Nearly a hundred years later construction workers and amateur archeologists would be turning up French wine bottles

I

At a cocktail party someone introduces me as blue collar.

By someone, I mean the man I am sleeping with. I mean

the man I love. I think he meant it in a nice way. Someone

says Nine kids! What kind of car did your parents drive?

My dad drove a work truck, I said. My mom drove a 15

passenger van. I do not tell them that my uncle works

as a custodian at the school my youngest sister attends. I smile

into my copper cocktail cup. A woman says, You don't look blue collar.

An arbor is not ardor. An arbor is trees, multiplied. So what?

II

When helicopters blared above the school my students hid beneath

their desks in the dark. They were so good, so quiet, my heart ached.

Is this a real lockdown or a practice lockdown Ms. V? It's a real lockdown,

& I'm trying to listen to the hyper scrabble of the walkie-talkie.

Everything is fine, I say. But we all hear the sirens. They seem close.

III

In my hometown, middle schools are named for Spanish explorers:

Anacapa, Balboa, Deanza, Cabrillo. Sixth grade—Yes, those are my pink eyeglasses.

Two beautiful girls, older than me, approach in an empty hallway. One girl stops.

Of course I know their names. Who does not? They don't know mine.

She slaps my face, lightly, confidently. You think you're so innocent, she says.