After coming back to Hawaii, everything had changed including his grandparent’s work, the car they used to ride, and the house where Barry lived a long time ago. Most of all, he had to adapt to a new school life in Hawaii. Punahou Academy where he would attend was the prestigious prep school, an incubator for island elites. Its reputation had helped sway his mother in her decision to send him back to the States. As the summer drew to a close, he became increasingly restless to start school. His main concern was finding companions his own age. Most of his classmates had been together since kindergarten they lived in the same neighborhoods, in split-level homes with swimming pools; their fathers coached the same Little Ligue teams; their mothers sponsored the bake sales. Nobody played soccer or badminton or chess, and he had no idea how to throw a football in a spiral or balance on a skateboard.
There was one other child in his class, who reminded him of a different sort of pain. Her name was Coretta, and before his arrival, she had been the only black person in his grade. She was plump and dark and didn't seem to have many friends. Barry was mostly left alone like her. He made a few friends, learned to speak less often in class, and managed to toss a wobbly football around. A part of him felt trampled on, crushed, and he had to take refuge in the life that his grandparents led. One day he heard from his grandmother that his father would come to see him. -63. August 12, 2021.
