The air was thick with dirt, and it was hard to see anything. My mouth felt gritty and my throat was clogged with dust. I was in the middle of a dust storm. I squinted my eyes to look at Paw, and his face went as pale as a bleached white shirt. He looked over at me with fear in his eyes. He said to get back in the house and to go into the basement. The basement? Why? But, I did as I was told, and I hid there with Maw, Paw and my little sister for a couple of hours. Suddenly, there was no noise. Paw went outside to look, and the dust bowl had ended, but later that week, we faced a drought so dry, that we had to limit our water supply to only a cup a day for the whole family. But, we couldn’t take it anymore. We were planning to move to California.
We had no choice. My little sister, Mary was very sick and we needed to get medicine. That evening, we left for California. We thought that the long journey would be worth it, but we were wrong. They treated us unfairly and talked to us like we were scums. That night, I heard Maw and Paw talking again. I knew it would be wrong to listen to it, but my curiosity got the better of me and I listened. Tears flooded my eyes, and my mind was screaming with pain. How could they? They were planning to leave my sister and me behind. We were going to split up.
They talked about how there were benefits, but I disagreed. I walked right in and told them how it was unfair and unjust. Fortunately, they said that they agreed and that they would never talk about it again. Thankfully, this was the right decision, as Mary wasn’t getting any better. We still needed money, but the people criticized us for stealing their jobs and for increasing the health and sanitation budget. So, before it was too late, I decided to go to school.
The school wasn’t too bad, but when I entered, the girls with their pristine dresses and the boys with their tucked-in shirts made faces at me and threw pieces of paper, and whatever they could get their hands on. But, I took a deep breath and remembered that if I went through with this, I would be able to help a family and get money from my sister. I sulked over to an empty desk, but before I could sit down a teacher told me to sit on the floor.
“Why?” I exclaimed in surprise. “Why should I not have the same privileges as the others? It is because I’m an Okie?”
“Yes. What is your name child?”
“Becky. My name’s Becky.”
I sat on the cold, hard ground. It was as dirty as a piece of toast that was soaked in butter and was dropped on a hotel floor, that had not been cleaned for years. It was matted with dirt and stray hairs. For the rest of the class, I paid no attention. Instead, I paid attention to the spider that was creeping closer to me with every passing second. This went on for days until I met Evelyn. She was 76 years old and didn’t have a care in the world. One day, she came to visit me when I was in school. She saw me sitting on the ground doing nothing, while the other children were doing the math.
Appalled, she went over to the teacher and they began to talk in hushed, angry whispers. I don’t know what they were saying, but the next day, before I could go to school, Evelyn stopped me. She said that I wasn’t going to school anymore, and the same as the others. By that evening, I had learned more in 2 hours, than I could in the entire school day. This continued on for a while, and me and the other Okies bonded well with Evelyn. She was like our second mother. But life went over and did its work.
That was the last day I ever saw Evelyn. No more smiles. No more laughter. No more feeling independent. My sister was also feeling better, but something changed that day. In honor of Evelyn, people began to show sympathy and we all grew up to be strong, independent and most importantly, embrace ourselves and where we came from.
