Part II, Chapters 7–8: "The Lesson" by Toni Cade Bambara

But when she came calling with some sachet she'd sewed up or some gingerbread she'd made or some book, why then they'd all be too embarrassed to turn her down and we'd get handed over all spruced up.

So me and Sugar leaning on the mailbox being surly, which is a Miss Moore word.

And I'm stalling to figure out the tip and Sugar say give him a dime.

And Big Butt ain't got the first notion.

"Why, even medical students and interns and," blah, blah, blah.

So right away me and Sugar curtsy to each other and then to Mercedes who is more the tidy type.

I read it again for myself just in case the group recitation put me in a trance.

Though Q.T. liable to come up behind you years later and get his licks in when you half expect it.

Where we are is who we are, Miss Moore always pointin out. But it don't necessarily have to be that way, she always adds then waits for somebody to say that poor people have to wake up and demand their share of the pie and don't none of us know what kind of pie she talking about in the first damn place.

Miss Moore is besides herself and I am disgusted with Sugar's treachery.