Playground Groove 🎶 | Emjé's Story: Part 1 - Little Legs, Big Plans

There was a blur of yellow on the rooftop courtyard, bouncing from chalk squares to jump rope loops, pausing only long enough to shout, “Again!” or “You’re not counting right!”

That blur? That was Emjé.

The youngest of the crew—and depending on who you asked—the most unstoppable.

With her little bear-shaped backpack slung over one shoulder and a flower tucked behind her ear, she didn’t just play. She organized the play. She picked the teams, made the rules, and changed them halfway through the game if they didn’t make sense. Not because she was trying to cheat.

Because she had a better system.

She was sweet, no doubt. The kind of sweet that made people drop their guard. But the second someone underestimated her?

They’d catch a side-eye and a full sentence that sounded way too grown to come out of someone her size.

Nobody expected her to know what she knew.

Like how shadows move faster when the sun’s going down. Or that if you hum into a balloon and pop it, the sound travels farther than your voice ever could. Or how racing isn’t always about speed—it’s about rhythm and reaction.

Emjé was a sponge. Observing. Learning. Repeating.

She looked up to Purrla and Nibbi more than she let on. The two older girls were her models of fearless fun and icy confidence. And while they teased her sometimes, they didn’t play when it came to protecting who they considered their baby sis. Purrla taught her how to stand bold. Nibbi taught her how to silence drama with a single look.

That’s all Emjé needed. Just the right mix.

She spun the jump rope faster.

Her speaker backpack played a beat she picked out herself—light, bouncy, with just a little kick underneath. Like her.

This wasn’t just recess.

It was practice.

Because while everyone else saw her as the little one, the baby of the group, the tagalong…

Emjé already knew:

She had just as much purpose in this story as anyone else.