BiBi is in the fourth grade at Woodville Elementary. She likes school, except for math. Her favorite class is art, where she feels the freedom to explore what’s inside of her.

​

It is already the end of another school day. BiBi sits in her last class, homeroom, fidgeting while waiting for the pink letters on the Power Pad’s cover to dry. She drew the picture in her art class this morning after the image kept showing up in her daydreams. Once she finished the drawing, it took on a life of its own, just like all of the drawings in her Power Pad. The image is a sea of hands that reach off the page at her, not like they want to harm her, but instead, like they are there to help.  She decided to paste it on the cover.

​

At last, the bell rings. She quickly puts her Power Pad in her backpack, grabs her jacket, and heads to her locker. As she swings the door open, Ian, a much taller fifth-grader, pops up behind her.

 

 

"Hey, Basira," he sneers. "What kind of name is that?"

BiBi rolls her eyes, trying to hide her annoyance. "It's BiBi," she corrects him, her voice steady, but her heart races.

​

Ian mocks her, "It’s BiBi," his voice whiny and taunting. "Is Basira gonna run home to her mommy and cry?"

​

BiBi clenches her jaw, imagining her mom’s face and how she would want her to handle him. Before she can respond, Ian snatches the Power Pad sticking out of the top of her backpack. Flipping through the pages his eyes widen slightly. He senses something unusual about it.

​

“What’s this, Baby Basira?” he asks, but before he can dig further, Mrs. Lia, BiBi's art teacher, appears in the hallway.

"Alright, everyone, pack up and get to your buses," she announces, her comforting voice reaching above the chaos of the busy hallway.  “Ian, I’m pretty sure that belongs to her,” said Mrs. Lia.

​

BiBi slams her locker as hard as she can, hoping Ian will feel the intensity. He reluctantly drops the Power Pad on the floor and takes off. BiBi picks up her journal and notices it’s slightly warm to the touch, now in her hand, it seems to absorb her anxiety and radiate calm back to her. There are only a few students still in the hallway. Most of them have already made their way to the lot where the yellow school buses await to take them to their stops. BiBi gathers her things, grateful for the escape. Mrs. Lia gives her a look, a silent message of support making BiBi feel seen amidst the sea of unfriendly faces. BiBi regains her confidence and heads to the bus.