Who am I? That's certainly been the question I've dwelt on for the last who knows how many years, as many years as I've been able to realize that there was even anything to think about. I remember being just a little kit, and I was still living under the illusion that the foxes I lived with were my biological mom and dad. I thought that until I was about five or six years old- whenever it was that I first went to school. First year students were required to bring both parents in to school with them to enroll them.
Well, I could see the hesitation on Mom and Dad's faces. I asked them why, and they both seemed surprised that I'd asked.
"We-we don't want to see you go, sweetie, that's all," they had said. I only realized the first reason later, and it wasn't for many years afterwards that I could get my head around it- they were foxes, and I a rabbit. Who was to know that I hadn't been kidnapped, or to be adopted to be cooked for stew?
Not me, but the school's principal made that clear to the three of us in no uncertain terms that there was no way, not a frinkin' way that they could possibly be my parents. In fact, he flat out refused to enroll me until we had been cleared by the police.
We volunteered to go down our own to prove our story to the ZPD, but he wouldn't hear any of it. He told us not to go anywhere, or he'd pull his taser on us. Who knows why a school principal would have a taser, let alone in their desk? Not me, that's for sure.
What I do know, though, is that one, I was no way in hell going to go to that school, and two, as soon as I could think clearly, call the police.
Which I did, but of course, it did us no good. The police chief, McHorn, has a serious anti-pred bent, and there's no ifs, ands, or buts about it. That, and Mayor Bellwether wants predators gone. Not just exiled from Zootopia, no, she wants them dead. That kind of gone.
Well, at least Senator Bogo is on our side, but with the political support that Mayor Bellwether gets, I'm honestly surprised that Bogo hasn't been forced out of office yet.
Anyways, as soon as those boys in blue arrived, they refused to listen to my tale. In their words, who were they going to trust? The principal, a ram, one of their kind, or a cutesy little rabbit kit with the spawns of the devil that she claimed were her parents? It could be mind-washing.
So off they went to the slammer, leaving me behind to my own devices.
I did what I had to- I kicked him in the teeth.
Well, that little 'mess-up' got me banned from ever attending school in Bunnyburrow, and Mom and Dad decided that they would homeschool me. Well, that little 'experiment' of ours only lasted until I was nine. By that time, I was in the homeschool equivalent of third grade and saddled with a desire for a friend that would lead to my consistent asking, well, pestering, of my parents to let me go to public school.
They agreed, but only under the condition that I find friends.
Yeah, like that was ever going to happen. Foxes' daughter, remember? Stereotypes, stereotypes, stereotypes. They destroy lives, you know. They've pretty much ruined mine.
I guess then it's a good thing that Mister Lionheart wants to bring up the topic.
"What is it, Mister Lionheart? You're disturbing my beauty rest…"
"What's disturbing, Gideon Grey, is the fact that you- and not just you- can let stereotypes affect you. How some of you- and in this case, I'm looking just at you, Gideon Grey- embrace them and let them become you."
"That's not my problem, Mister Lion-Who-Roars-To-Wake-Up-His-Students."
"If you hadn't been sleeping, it wouldn't have been a problem, Gideon. Now, who here has ever been judged for what and not who they are?"
Every paw and hoof went up. "Do tell, please. Miss Clover?"
"Y-y-yes, o-of c-course, Mister Lionheart. I get c-called meek a-all day, every d-day. I'm not, t-though, even t-though I-I'm a sheep."
"And why do you suppose that is, Sharla?"
"It's be-because I st-stutter. But it's only w-when I'm n-nervous."
"So relax, and keep going from there," the lion soothed. It's alright."
"Oh-okay." She drew a shuddering breath. "There. That's better. Mammals call me w-weak because of this stupid stutter of mine. They think I'm stupid because I can talk straight if I'm emotional. That, and I try to be d-different. All the mammals I've met think that because I'm a sheep, I should just follow the head of the flock, the bellwether, if you will."
"Obviously that's not the case. I'm sure you'll achieve great things, Sharla."
"Ha! Like she could ever be anything more than just a dumb little wool ball!"
"And that, Mister Grey, is exactly the kind of attitude that we're trying to avoid here. For that, Gideon, it's your turn next. What kind of mammal do you think you are if you exemplify what we're trying to eliminate?"
"Misser Lionheart," Gideon drawled, "I could care less."
"That's apparent, Gideon. Let me ask you something- one- do you know that it's I couldn't care less? And two- why are you who you are? Really?"
"You're talkin' crazy."
"That may be, Gideon. Back on track, please. What makes you who you are? I can tell you're bluffing. I didn't spend twenty-plus years in the political field as an assemblymammal to not see through you. So out with it."
With that, his mask cracked, and for the first time in the time I'd known him, the portly fox showed actual emotion. And not just any emotion, either- no, this was pure, undiluted anger and sorrow. Gideon sat at his desk, paws clenched into fists, teeth bared, tears, of all things streaming from his eyes and down his snout to stain his fur and overalls.
"Ma's gone, Misser Lionheart. An' Pa's a drunk, and you're right. You want to know what I really want to do? I wanna be a baker. I wanna be the best pastry chef in the whole tri-burrows, but noooo, that's never gonna happen, 'cause anytime I try to make friends with anyone, they treat me like I'm worth nothin' more than a cowpat, all just 'cause I'm a fox. So what do I do, huh? I'm trapped."
"If you don't mind me saying so, Gideon, Mister Lionheart, I think that's case-in-point, right there." I stood up. "Gideon, I think you need a hug."
Shocking both me and the rest of the class, Gideon agreed. "I do, more than anythin' right now."
"Then come here. Anytime you need one, don't be afraid to ask. I've plenty more."
"Thanks, Judy."
"You know what?" Nick interjected. "You think that that's bad? Try being treated like a bunny. Now, please don't think I'm trying to diminish what you're going through. That's not the case now, nor will it ever be. No, what I'm trying to say here is that stereotypes ask us to be something we're not, nor will we ever be. How many of you have ever been told 'You want to be different? Well, you can't. You can only be what you are?'" Then he pointed to me, then himself. "Sly fox, dumb bunny. How many of us have heard that sort of thing? Come on, don't be afraid to admit it."
Everyone raised their paws. "That's what I thought. I have an idea, Mister Lionheart, and if you say yes, I'd like to put it in action tomorrow."
"What might that be, Nicholas?"
"Foxes aren't the spawn of the devil, as per the saying. Stereotypes are. Tomorrow, we show the school- and the world- just that. Half the class will fill those stereotypical roles like never before, the other half, you play it crazy- crazier, really. Don't play your species' stereotype, play another species'. How's that sound, Mister Lionheart?"
"Delightfully crazy. I love it!"
"Wonderful. Then let's bring this school to its knees!"