One day I’d like a school named after me
And all the kids would wonder, “who was she?”
They’d probably think I was some rich white lady
And not someone cute and a little shady
Then one day they’d find me in a book
Check out my name and take a second look
Then I’d be as famous as old Booker T.
And young kids would want to grow up to be like me

From Here in Harlem: poems in many voices written by Walter Dean Myers