Tyrone Bittings is the main character, He is one of the few kids who's dad didn't abandon his mom. It’s like we come from two different planets. The wet paintbrushes sticking up out of the jar are always a sign that he’s been at it again. In Bronx Masquerade, Raul Ramirez writes a poem called “Zorro” and uses the shape of a “Z” as the actual shape of his poem. All that matters, I told her, is that we’re friends. A self-portrait. Write. Or Diondra. Even if she’s not nice, I’ll probably paint her because she’s beautiful. ‘Course, if Mr. Goody Two-shoes ain’t no angel, what does that make me? I should make a baby of my own. Said she wished she could sew like me. She said that after the funteral, and evne months after she moved in with her grandmother, her world felt so empty and hollow, she could hold it at one end and ring it like a bell. I nod, then go back to making my list. And me? Ten more minutes and Mr. Ward will be in here. Chankara was the third one up today. Can’t hop on the subway without thinkin’ of Tokyo— we all know poison gas does not discriminate. Tyrone Man, that little white girl be getting pretty deep. Then she pads over, slips a copy of The Panther & the Lash on my table, and walks away without saying a word. I’m reading it for me, actually.” “You gots to be kiddin’.” “No.” “That’s so lame, man.” I keep my finger nit eh book and turn to face him. And you’re wrong about my poem. That’s what I was thinking when I remembered it ain’t nice to stare. Anyway, I decided to take advantage of the meeting. Tyrone might convince everybody else that he’s all through with dreaming, but I know he wants to be a big hip-hop star. She’s why I chopped all my hair off last year. Guess what. “He’ll never do it again,” she swears. Match. But I did. “Here come Miss High-Yella, thinkin’ she’s all that, with her so-called ‘good hair,’” said one. A brother named Leon “accidentally” bumped into me as I approached the cashier. I’ll call it “Little Men,” ‘cause that’s what they are. Still, you never know. “You don’t know what he does, Lupe,” she always says. She smiled up at him and gave his waist a squeeze, and I felt my stomach turn. I look up for a minute, see Lupe smiling at me. What choice did I have? He sized up the passengers, chose his prey: a wrinkled woman at the tail end of her Geritol years who fears her own shadow with good reason. I though he meant together. I’ve been drawing pictures all my life. They say it took four people to pull her off of the other girl. She’s smart, and she doesn’t try hiding it. Good work belongs in the gallery, I told him. Tyrone My pops used to hit my moms like that. seems like her pieces are getting tighter. You should see Raul and some of the other guys—Black and white—sniffing round her. Which gets me thinking. Raul is following in his grandfather's footsteps. “Look, Mom,” I said. Back in September, Mr. Ward covered two of the classroom walls with black construction paper and then scattered paper frames up and down the walls, each one a different size and color. Two years ago I got sick at school and he was called in to take me to the hospital. Except for my homey Tyrone. Open Mike: If By Diondra Jordan If I stood on tiptoe reached up and sculpted mountains from clouds would you laugh out loud? But I am here to help. He threw his hands up and backed off a few steps. Me, writing poetry! meanwhile, I sit at my sewing machine and dream about the great transformation I’m going to make someday. Diondra Jordan If only I was as bold as Raul. Honey, I thought to myself, give me some of that pretty skin and hair of yours, and I’ll trade. That always gets to him. the eyes did look right through you. Not that anyone here knows that, except Tanisha, and she found out by accident when she came to my house to study once and saw a couple of drawings hanging in my room. Start studying Bronx Masquerade Character Conflicts. It’s too late to worry about my innocence since fear is here. I figured him for a lightweight do-gooder who would last about five minutes in this neighborhood. That’s something, isn’t it? I intend to become a science teacher, not a preacher, but I don’t mind being called one. He keeps rolling with it. I asked her why not. I caught a quick glance in the chilly glow of the refrigerator before she had a chance to hide the latest souvenir her boyfriend gave her. RESOURCES. The slaver’s white drop couldn’t stop the spread of African cells. There were lots of times like that. Her life took a new spin. Make that tall people, ‘cause Diondra’s got the same problem. I’ll give you another week.” So much for creative expression. And you know it.” No hello. I don’t get it. I look up at Leon and shook my head. How many stories can claim that kind of range? I grew up in Westchester County. I keep telling him not to hold his breath. I miss my friends. She was bent over a little, from the weight of her backpack I guess, and when he noticed, he slipped it off and carried it for her. Mr. Ward rubbed his chin for a minute. Like I have a right to be there if I want. I guess I should give Tanisha some credit too. They were shaking in their boots, but it was all good. If the ears are too long, she’ll snip them. So of course, anybody who glances over in that direction will be tempted to stop by and look. Is Porscha here? Plot Summaries. After all, her arms and legs mustn’t be too long. Missing Mom, I mean. “I hope you enjoyed yourself,” I said, “’cause that’s the last time you’ll ever lay a hand on me. It was the best I could do on my own. “Man,” he yelled, “you some kind of freak!” I smiled, strummed my imaginary guitar, and sang, “I’ll be a fool for Christ, not just once, but twice.” Leon and his friends backed away as if I’d set a match to them. I’m not used to writing poetry.” “Well, nobody could tell it. One of htse days, she’s going to find that out. His buddies joined in. It’s my honor and pleasure to salute You, a true Renaissance man of Harlem. Tyrone I’ve been thinking we should plan on having a poetry slam next year. I’ve been helping Mom mark and cut out patterns for as long as I can remember. Nikki GrimesThe author looking especially thoughtful… maybe she's getting ready to read her own piece for Open Mike Friday? I nodded off three times. “Can we do Zora Neale Hurston?” asked Janelle. He said he used to twist himself into a pretzel over it until he realized God loves him just the way he is. they’re only trying to prove that the peace of God is nonexistent. Learn bronx masquerade with free interactive flashcards. I jump off the sofa like it’s on fire. Then he grunted and said, “You good, man, I’ll give you that.” “Thanks,” I said. Boy, was that a mistake! She shrunk right back down, though. Two. Except for Raynard and Devon, who are into jazz. “Fine,” says Diondra. Maybe not,” I said. Mr. Ward says you have to take people one at a time, check out what’s in their head and heart before you judge. Amy Moscowitz Amy. I know the stench and sting of chlorine. Sterling says jealousy is a waste of energy, that I should focus on what I have, not what I don’t.

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