Mateo was a late bloomer. He was short and scrawny for his age. My aunt, who always worried about his nutrition, constantly fed him supplemental vitamins. As a result, Mateo grew up as a short, chubby and dark-skinned child. Since his feet were wide and thick, he frequently outgrew his shoes and clothes.
However, instead of throwing them away, they were passed down to me. Since my mother never once bought me new shoes, I was always stuck wearing Mateo’s hand-me-downs. The shoes were either too loose or too tight.
Before school each morning, I stuffed my socks with wads of paper to keep my heels from slipping out. That way, no one would laugh at me.
Each time, I watched other kids play basketball with envy. I wanted to join them and yet how could I, when I didn’t even have a decent pair of shoes?
My mother would sneer at me. She told me I dressed carelessly and looked unkempt. She said I wasn’t confident, that I didn’t carry myself like a man. She said I wasn’t as bold or as masculine as Mateo.