With the Fire on High by Elizabeth Acevedo

 

Promotion Ceremony

I have to use a whole pack of bobby pins to keep my cap sitting on my curls. We are standing outside of an auditorium at Temple University where the Schomburg graduation was held. ’Buela and Julio are snapping pictures on their phones as I hold Babygirl—she keeps running her fingers through the tassels on my cap. In my other hand I hold up my diploma. Mr. Jagoda stands in the background smiling, a calm presence, and I’m glad ’Buela invited him.

I hear someone squeal behind me and then Gelly throws an arm around my shoulders. I lean against her and smile as we pose. But her girls taking pictures without her must be too much for ’Buela to resist because she hands her phone to Mr. Jagoda and rushes to my other side.

Soon Malachi’s tall figure stands next to her, tickling Babygirl. When I look up at him he blows me a kiss. Mr. Jagoda gestures someone into the picture and Ms. Fuentes winks at me, but not quick enough because I notice the tears in her eyes. Someone clears his throat, and I turn my neck to see Chef Ayden standing behind me, an arm each on Malachi and Angelica’s shoulders. I have to do a double take when I see him in a sharp suit, his bald head shining in the sun. And just as we all stand straight and look at the cameras as Julio counts down, a high-pitched voice breaks in, “Can I get in, too?” Pretty Leslie doesn’t wait for me to respond as she presses into Ms. Fuentes and smiles a megawatt smile.

Before Julio puts down his phone I clear my throat and ask over the sounds of all my classmates taking photos, “Mr. Jagoda, can you take a picture of the group with Julio in it, too?” Mr. Jagoda takes Julio’s phone. I can tell Julio doesn’t know how to feel about Mr. Jagoda yet, but he stands next to Chef Ayden behind us. ’Buela’s arm comes around my waist, and it feels like it’s less to support me, and more to offer comfort. To both of us.

Mr. Jagoda counts down for the last time. My family smiles for the camera.

Everyone in the picture and their families have been invited back to our house for a graduation lunch. I started cooking last night, a feast to end all feasts. I’ve been putting the meal together for a while now, although I didn’t know exactly why I was pairing certain flavors, or how certain sides would work with one another. I was cooking toward this graduation dinner, because high school isn’t the only thing I’m leaving behind.

Although my food still doesn’t give me any memories, it has always been looking back; it’s infused with the people I come from. But it’s also a way for me to look forward: to watch the recipes that from my roots transform, grow, and feed the hungriest places inside of me.

And like a map I’ve been following without knowing the exact destination, I know now I’ve been equipping myself with tools from the journey to help me survive when I arrive. Although I don’t have all the answers for what is coming next, I can finally see a glimpse of where I, Emoni Santiago, am going.