Bronx Masquerade Chapter 6-10 Summary

Open Mike: Bruised Love

Chankara's poem is all about the abuse she witnesses her sister taking.
Even though Chankara knows the truth, she sees her sister lying and covering up for these jerks and knows she doesn't want to end up like that.

Tyrone hears Chankara's poem and thinks about how his dad used to hit his mom. Why? He doesn't know; hitting someone doesn't make any sense to him.
He's just glad his dad was able to clean up his act a little and stop drinking before he got shot. At least he and Tyrone had some good times together.
No one wants to go after Chankara's poem because it's so deep and personal, so Tyrone decides to wait until next Friday to read his stuff.
He's thinking about writing a poem about guys who hit girls. His working title is "Little Men," because that's what he thinks of them. Good on you, Tyrone.

At lunch, Raul sits across from Chankara and stares at her bruises. They're almost gone, but they still don't look good.
He finishes up and heads over to Mr. Ward's class early. See, Raul wants to be a painter and Mr. Ward usually leaves out watercolors, brushes, and paper for Raul to work with before class. He just has to clean up the mess before English.
One time Tyrone saw him painting and said Raul was pretty good. He also told Raul that painters don't make any money.
This doesn't worry Raul, though—he simply has to paint.
His brothers might not believe in him, but his abuelita (a.k.a. grandma) does. Her father used to paint but gave up when he realized he couldn't support his family that way. Raul won't make the same mistake.
For now, he just paints to practice. One day, he'll paint all kinds of things like his sister and his mom, both of whom are both beautiful. One day…

Raul's poem is about how people see him. He's like Zorro, a dashing hero performing for the cameras, saving damsels, waiting until it's his turn to speak.
But that's not who he really is—and he isn't content to let other people define him any longer. He's going to make his own way in the world.

Tyrone loves Raul's poem. He thinks he's right: You can't let other people define you, especially not white people.
Up until now, Tyrone hadn't known much about Raul. Heck, he wasn't even sure Raul could speak English that well. The more you know, right?