Echo #5
“That gave me the confidence to not let any job, any system, or any title define who I am—or limit what I could be. Do you understand how powerful that is?” she said, her voice rising with passion.
“You’re not just an actress—you’re a shift in the movement for equality, safety, and respect for Black women. For people like me. You are my shero.”
She paused, fanned herself lightly, then laughed. “Okay… I can breathe now.”
And just like that, she snapped right back into place.
Professional. Composed. Teacher of the year.
That switch?
Yeah… that shit was sexy. I ain’t even gonna lie.
Before my mother could thank Dionne for her praises, I cut in.
“So how old are you, and how long have you been teaching?”
She looked at me like I had the nerve to be checking her credentials—and that’s when I noticed the small beauty mark right behind her earlobe.
“Echo is Juliet’s overprotective big brother. As a matter of fact, you’ll see and hear from him way more than her actual parents,” Gina cut in, rolling her eyes.
“Oh,” she said, shifting her attention back to me. “Well, it’s not every day you meet siblings that actively involved, so again—it’s nice to meet you, Echo. To answer your question, I’m 24, and this is my second year teaching.”
Second year?
Not that I was an ageist or anything, but… she wasn’t seasoned enough to be teaching my baby.
“I can see it all over your face, Echo,” she continued, catching my hesitation. “Yes, two years is a short time, but I promise I am just as qualified as someone who’s been in the classroom for ten-plus years.”
“So why they running around like psychos, licking windows and shit?” I asked.
Her face shifted—there it was. A flash of annoyance. She bit her bottom lip before responding.
Naw, don’t do that.
Don’t do that.
Fuck around and it’ll be a half day for these inmates.
“Mr. Everette,” she said firmly.
“Echo. He’s Mr. Everette,” I cut her off, pointing toward my father.
“Very well… Echo,” she corrected smoothly.
“The children are five. At five, you should expect exploratory behaviors that, to an adult eye, may seem outlandish. However, I assure you, I am very familiar with the accommodations outlined in Juliet’s educational plan.
And with me as her educator, she will exceed expectations based on the state’s curriculum. ”
Her tone was confident. Controlled.
And yeah… that little thick, confident ass had a nigga quiet for a second.
I just nodded.
“Very well,” she continued. “How about we end this introduction and allow Juliet to come in and get acquainted with her new learning environment and her classmates?”
“Yes! Let’s do it!” Juliet shouted and signed at the same time.
Ms. Faye’s eyes widened in pure shock.
“Excuse me—my apologies,” she said, catching her breath. “Her educational plan did state that she was verbal, but I assumed she was completely deaf.”
“She has Selective Auditory Processing Collapse, or SAPC. She’s the 13th person in the world to be diagnosed and the 7th in the United States.
It’s an auditory condition where the brain ‘shuts down’ hearing when multiple sound sources compete, causing momentary deafness in overstimulating environments,” my father explained.
“This also includes selective mutism,” my mother added. “It’s believed to be her brain’s defense mechanism.”
Ms. Faye nodded slowly. “Thank you for explaining it. That helps. Come on, Juliet—shall we?”
She reached for Juliet’s hand, and baby girl happily accepted it.
“Tell Mommy, Daddy, and Echo ‘see you later,’” she said gently.
Juliet did just that—giving each of us the biggest hugs, squeezing tight like she was holding on to something she didn’t want to let go of.
Gina led Juliet into the classroom, Ms. Faye right behind them.
I reached out softly and grabbed her arm, prompting her to turn back around.
For a split second, uncertainty crept in.
I glanced down the hallway—my parents walking hand in hand toward the exit like this was just another normal day.
Then I looked back at her.
Ms. Dionne Faye.
And just like that, something in me settled.
Her warm, dark eyes held mine, and for a moment, it felt like I could tap into whatever energy she carried. There was something there—calm, intentional, loving. She cared.
That… and the soft floral scent she wore settled the protective beast inside me.
“Don’t pacify her,” I said, my voice calm but firm. “I don’t want anyone feeling sorry for her, because she doesn’t walk around feeling sorry for herself.”
“Okay,” she said softly, almost a whisper, not breaking eye contact.
“Again, Echo, I promise—she’s in great hands.”
I nodded once and let her arm go.
As I walked down the hallway, her voice called out behind me.
“Echo—please have everyone involved in Juliet’s educational experience download the school’s app. That’s where you can track her progress, weekly curriculum, and send private messages to her educational team.”
I turned around, now walking backward, a smirk creeping onto my face.
“So that means you’ll be in my DMs, Ms. Faye,” I said with a wink.