Karma by Diane Godfrey-Doherty (ebook reader macos .TXT) đź“•
Excerpt from the book:
It was 1967, and in this time prejudice and hatred for anyone other than a white person was still breading and growing. It was just in an underground quiet sort of way. Even though racism and prejudice was frowned upon and times were changing. The next generation was growing up and becoming members of the community, with voices that wanted to be heard. The deep ground roots of hatred still existed, and this is what worried Margret and Edward Lea.
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- Author: Diane Godfrey-Doherty
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I found the courage in me to lift my head at look her way. I thought of the stories Mr. Doucette shared with us of his family and the difficulties they have had to face during apartheid. And about Dred and Harriet and the courage they had, to face many ugly people during their lifetime. The lady in front of me was the ugly person in my life, and I would have to stand up to her. Even though I made eye contact I wasn’t going to talk to her, so I sat quietly and listened as she squawked out orders. It’s true what Mrs. Chapman said, some things don’t change and she was one of them. “Today I am supposed to teach you how to play the recorder.” “While I know that many of you will be fairly good at it, I know for certain that black people cannot master the difficulty of this instrument”, she finished. That was the first time I had heard her refer to black people right out in the open like that. I sat there just looking at her and the ugliness that poured out of her. As the layers of true colors had came through with Cheryl the teen bully, Mrs. Chapman’s true colors were beginning to show now. Emma and Susie the two girls who sat around me turned to look at me. Maybe they were wondering what would happen, or if I would say something. Even though I was still a very quiet child, I was beginning to come out of my shell with Mr. Doucette around. I always felt as if he was here at West Park to protect me somehow, to sort of block the ugliness as it came my way. But the ugliness had just returned in the form of Mrs. Chapman.
“Now everyone come up and get a recorder and the sheets of songs we will try to work on today.” “I’m going to call you up by row”. She didn’t even have to tell me that I would be last because I already knew that. Finally I got my instrument and sat down. “Ok class”, she began. “I want to hear what you can play”. I was betting that I would be the last one yet again, but Mrs. Chapman surprised me and called on me first. I had never played a recorder before I had no idea what to do with it. “Stand”, she barked. I stood. “Now play.” “But…But…I don’t know how to play”, I said. I was so embarrassed to stand up there and make a fool of myself. “No”, she yelled. “You must play that instrument”. “Do it or go to the office”. I hadn’t been down to the office in many months, well I guess not since Mr. Doucette came. But I knew that Ms Weber was still our principal and she was always so nice to me. She told me she understood what adults say, is sometime wrong. And I knew she cared, so going to see her did not scare me at all. But I’m sure Mrs. Chapman thought it would. “KARMA”!, she hollered. “What is your problem”? “I told you to play the instrument, now DO IT!” She spit as she hollered out the word it. I stood staring at her, thinking of what to say. My instincts told me to just play and she would leave me alone. But then I realized she wouldn’t leave me alone. She would just find another thing to bully me about. I needed to stand up to her, I needed to dig down inside and find the courage that I read about in all those books. Mrs. Chapman needed to be told…. “No”, I said firmly. “You can’t make me”. “What did you say”? She replied, her head looking as if it was about to blow up. I said, “No, Mrs. Chapman I don’t know how to play it so I don’t want to embarrass myself.”
“You are already an embarrassment,” she spat out. “You are a huge embarrassment to this school,” she said again, after she sucked in a big gulp of air to fuel her poisonous words, she again spat out, “you are a huge embarrassment to this community.” “Who, do you think you are talking to me like that”, she continued? “I am the teacher here missy, and you listen to me and do what I tell you”. “You got THAT”! She finished. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Ms. Weber standing just outside the doorway. But I didn’t turn my head to get a clear look; I just hoped it was true. I began to open my mouth to once again tell her that I would not play until I learned the instrument like everyone else. Only a squeak escaped my mouth before Ms. Weber cleared her throat and began to walk into the room. “Excuse me, is there a problem here”? She asked very calmly. Mrs. Chapman’s angry eyes turned to Ms. Weber. Her eyes looked as if they were ready to pop out from the anger and once she saw the principal standing there she was white as a sheet and froze where she stood.
“Ah,” the principal she began, lowering her voice and sounding relieved.
“I am so glad you are here Ms. Weber”. “I hope you can help me deal with this girl and her unacceptable rudeness towards me”. Mrs. Chapman began to move closer to Ms. Weber as she spoke. But suddenly the principal put up her hand and said, “Please Mrs. Chapman I did not ask you to speak”. I was asking Karma. “Now Karma let me ask you again”. “Is there a problem here”?
Mrs. Chapman’s face went hard like stone as she turned to look at me along with everyone else in the class. Ms Weber’s eyes met mine and I stared at her long enough to gather a little more courage to continue. “Yes, Ms. Weber there is a problem here”, I replied, and then I sat back down in my seat. “I thought so Karma,” she said. Ms. Weber turned to Mrs. Chapman and said in front of the whole class. “I could hear you yelling all the way from the office, Mrs. Chapman.” Mrs. Chapman tried to open her mouth to blurt out excuses, I was sure of that. But Ms. Weber would have nothing of it. “Put a cork in it Mrs. Chapman,” she started. “I think you have had just about enough time tormenting MY students here at West Park”. “You should be ashamed of yourself”. “I know I am ashamed to have you working here in MY school”, she continued. “I am ashamed that our board of education would hire such a mean and hurtful women, to teach our children”. “You are full of hate Mrs. Chapman and I don’t want you here at my school for another minute”. “You are dismissed, go to my office”. Her normally mild voice sounded harsh and stern. Mrs. Chapman tried to speak, she tried to explain her behavior as she escaped the embarrassment of all twenty five sets of eyes stared at her, but Ms Weber wouldn’t listen.
At that moment all that I had learned became one.
The bulling made me stronger, the lessons about apartheid gave me courage, and the quotes Mr. Doucette shared with us in class made me smarter and the most important thing, the compassion Ms Weber gave me showed me that humanity can change.
Ms. Weber continued to change many things at West Park Elementary, and soon the parents of the students at our school would begin to change too.
The End……..
Imprint
“Now everyone come up and get a recorder and the sheets of songs we will try to work on today.” “I’m going to call you up by row”. She didn’t even have to tell me that I would be last because I already knew that. Finally I got my instrument and sat down. “Ok class”, she began. “I want to hear what you can play”. I was betting that I would be the last one yet again, but Mrs. Chapman surprised me and called on me first. I had never played a recorder before I had no idea what to do with it. “Stand”, she barked. I stood. “Now play.” “But…But…I don’t know how to play”, I said. I was so embarrassed to stand up there and make a fool of myself. “No”, she yelled. “You must play that instrument”. “Do it or go to the office”. I hadn’t been down to the office in many months, well I guess not since Mr. Doucette came. But I knew that Ms Weber was still our principal and she was always so nice to me. She told me she understood what adults say, is sometime wrong. And I knew she cared, so going to see her did not scare me at all. But I’m sure Mrs. Chapman thought it would. “KARMA”!, she hollered. “What is your problem”? “I told you to play the instrument, now DO IT!” She spit as she hollered out the word it. I stood staring at her, thinking of what to say. My instincts told me to just play and she would leave me alone. But then I realized she wouldn’t leave me alone. She would just find another thing to bully me about. I needed to stand up to her, I needed to dig down inside and find the courage that I read about in all those books. Mrs. Chapman needed to be told…. “No”, I said firmly. “You can’t make me”. “What did you say”? She replied, her head looking as if it was about to blow up. I said, “No, Mrs. Chapman I don’t know how to play it so I don’t want to embarrass myself.”
“You are already an embarrassment,” she spat out. “You are a huge embarrassment to this school,” she said again, after she sucked in a big gulp of air to fuel her poisonous words, she again spat out, “you are a huge embarrassment to this community.” “Who, do you think you are talking to me like that”, she continued? “I am the teacher here missy, and you listen to me and do what I tell you”. “You got THAT”! She finished. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Ms. Weber standing just outside the doorway. But I didn’t turn my head to get a clear look; I just hoped it was true. I began to open my mouth to once again tell her that I would not play until I learned the instrument like everyone else. Only a squeak escaped my mouth before Ms. Weber cleared her throat and began to walk into the room. “Excuse me, is there a problem here”? She asked very calmly. Mrs. Chapman’s angry eyes turned to Ms. Weber. Her eyes looked as if they were ready to pop out from the anger and once she saw the principal standing there she was white as a sheet and froze where she stood.
“Ah,” the principal she began, lowering her voice and sounding relieved.
“I am so glad you are here Ms. Weber”. “I hope you can help me deal with this girl and her unacceptable rudeness towards me”. Mrs. Chapman began to move closer to Ms. Weber as she spoke. But suddenly the principal put up her hand and said, “Please Mrs. Chapman I did not ask you to speak”. I was asking Karma. “Now Karma let me ask you again”. “Is there a problem here”?
Mrs. Chapman’s face went hard like stone as she turned to look at me along with everyone else in the class. Ms Weber’s eyes met mine and I stared at her long enough to gather a little more courage to continue. “Yes, Ms. Weber there is a problem here”, I replied, and then I sat back down in my seat. “I thought so Karma,” she said. Ms. Weber turned to Mrs. Chapman and said in front of the whole class. “I could hear you yelling all the way from the office, Mrs. Chapman.” Mrs. Chapman tried to open her mouth to blurt out excuses, I was sure of that. But Ms. Weber would have nothing of it. “Put a cork in it Mrs. Chapman,” she started. “I think you have had just about enough time tormenting MY students here at West Park”. “You should be ashamed of yourself”. “I know I am ashamed to have you working here in MY school”, she continued. “I am ashamed that our board of education would hire such a mean and hurtful women, to teach our children”. “You are full of hate Mrs. Chapman and I don’t want you here at my school for another minute”. “You are dismissed, go to my office”. Her normally mild voice sounded harsh and stern. Mrs. Chapman tried to speak, she tried to explain her behavior as she escaped the embarrassment of all twenty five sets of eyes stared at her, but Ms Weber wouldn’t listen.
At that moment all that I had learned became one.
The bulling made me stronger, the lessons about apartheid gave me courage, and the quotes Mr. Doucette shared with us in class made me smarter and the most important thing, the compassion Ms Weber gave me showed me that humanity can change.
Ms. Weber continued to change many things at West Park Elementary, and soon the parents of the students at our school would begin to change too.
The End……..
Imprint
Publication Date: 07-08-2010
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