Hear ye! Hear ye! My name is AwkwardJello, and I provide free thoughts on… the Reynolds Pamphlet.
The new teacher, to Susan, was an angel. She had long, black hair, fair skin, and warm brown eyes. The woman had on a blue cardigan and black slacks. But her physical beauty wasn't the only thing that caught Susan's attention. Her smile was gentle and kind, and it reached all the way up to her eyes. Susan found that that smile was also contagious, as the first-grader soon found herself grinning from ear to ear as well.
"Hello, class," the woman greeted. Even her voice was lovely, like honey with a dash of chocolate. "I'm Ms. Schuyler, and I will be your teacher for this year." She surveyed the entire class and gave each student that same sweet smile. "First, I'll take attendance, then we'll play a game." An excited murmur from the students. "Carina Arnold?" Ms. Schuyler called out the first name on her attendance sheet.
"Here!" a plump girl responded.
Ms. Schuyler smiled. "Pleased to meet you, Carina. But raise your hand next time. Leo Aron?"
A black-haired boy raised his hand. "Here!"
"Pleased to meet you, Leo. Lily Aron?"
"Here!"
Ms. Schuyler continued calling out more names, and Susan found herself anticipating her turn. She, too, wanted Ms. Schuyler to smile at her like she did with her classmates. However, when Ms. Schuyler did get to her name, she faltered. "Susan… Lewis?"
"H-here," Susan said, suddenly shy. It was then that Ms. Schuyler saw Susan for the first time. Her face darkened, and her eyes narrowed at Susan. The girl felt her stomach drop. But this was only for a moment, and Ms. Schuyler gave Susan a smile, though it looked forced. "Pleased to meet you, Susan." She called out the next name, but Susan didn't hear. She was too shaken by the expression on Ms. Schuyler's face. Had she done something wrong?
After attendance was taken, Ms. Schuyler clapped her hands. "Now that attendance is done, it's time for our game! We're all going to take turns and introduce ourselves, and say one thing we like to do. I'll start." She thought for a moment, then said, "My name is Ms. Schuyler, and I like donating to charity. Who would like to go next?" A boy raised his hand. Ms. Schuyler smiled at him. "You're first, and then you." She pointed at the girl next to the boy. "Then you, and so on, until we go around the classroom."
"My name is Jake, and I like to play Subway Surfers," the boy responded eagerly.
Ms. Schuyler smiled. "My son likes that game."
"My name is Jasmine," the girl next to Jake said shyly. "And… I like to sing."
"That sounds lovely, dear," Ms. Schuyler responded. The girl beamed at her compliment.
"My name is Tony," the next boy said. "And I like building robots."
"That's awesome!" Ms. Schuyler exclaimed.
Finally, Ms. Schuyler turned her brilliant smile to Susan and, like before, it dimmed a little.
"M-my name is Susan," the girl found herself stammering, and her palms started to sweat. Susan forced herself to continue. "I-i like to read."
"Boring," she heard another girl whisper. Susan felt heat rise to her cheeks.
Ms. Schuyler smiled gently at Susan, making the little girl's heart lift. "That's wonderful. Alright, class!" They then moved onto another activity.
Throughout the rest of the morning, they worked in small groups, seated at different tables that Ms. Schuyler had assigned them. Susan tried her best to gain her teacher's affection. She really did want Ms. Schuyler to like her, after all. But whenever she raised her hand to answer Ms. Schuyler's question, the woman either called on someone else or, when there was no one else raising their hand, she would acknowledge Susan with a stiff smile instead of the genuine one she used with the other students.
"You're really pretty," a girl told Ms. Schuyler during recess time. The woman was supervising the children as they ran around the playground.
Ms. Schuyler smiled at the girl. "Thank you, sweetheart." The girl ran away, giggling with delight.
Susan watched their exchange from her lonely spot on the swings, jealousy gripping her heart. She had also wanted to compliment Ms. Schuyler, but she was scared of seeing that same look of anger and hatred. So little Susan stayed where she was, staring at the sand on the ground, a sad weed among happy, bright flowers.
The day had ended, and Susan was ready to go home. The other children were picked up, one by one.
"Bye, Ms. Schuyler," they said as they left the school, holding onto their parents' hands and waving at their teacher. Ms. Schuyler smiled and waved back.
Eventually, Susan was the only student left. She tapped her foot and looked anxiously at the door, hoping her mother would come through at any moment. Ms. Schuyler hadn't talked to Susan all afternoon, as Susan hadn't bothered raising her hand. She had given up. Ms. Schuyler hated her, she was sure of that. The woman loved every student but her.
Susan didn't notice that Ms. Schuyler was also waiting for the door to open any minute now. She occasionally glanced at the girl, then quickly back at the door. Her patient smile had dropped into a thin line of anticipation and wariness.
Finally, a woman stepped through the doors of the elementary school. Her wavy, brown hair framed her caramel skin. She had on a red sweater and a skirt that she made sure was below her knee. The woman pushed her hair back, but they stubbornly fell over her eye again.
Susan beamed. "Mommy!"
Mommy smiled at her. "Susan!" The little girl rushed over and hugged her tightly. Mommy was here. Susan was going to be okay.
Then Mommy froze. She and Ms. Schuyler were staring at each other. "Um, hello," Mommy said, attempting a friendly smile.
Ms. Schuyler, however, did not smile back. At least not genuinely. Even though the corners of her mouth were turned up, her eyes were infused with so much hatred that Susan felt Mommy shrink away from them. "Hello," Ms. Schuyler said, her tone flat and empty.
"Are you Susan's teacher?" Mommy asked. "I-I'm her mother." Mommy faltered at the last sentence, as if she wasn't sure if she should say it.
Ms. Schuyler nodded briskly. "Yes, I am her teacher, Ms. Schuyler." Mommy flinched when she empathized the last word. "I'll see you tomorrow, Susan."
Susan didn't realize Ms. Schuyler had been talking to her, and she quickly uttered a "Good-bye, Ms. Schuyler" before fleeing the school, her mother's hand squeezing hers.
The two of them reached their small apartment, and Mommy unlocked the door. Susan ran inside, happy to be away from school.
Their apartment wasn't much. There was a dirty couch, a tiny kitchen, and a single bedroom that Susan shared with her mother.
Mommy tossed her bag onto the coffee table in the living room, and sat down on the couch. Susan sat down with her.
"So… how was your first day of school?" Mommy asked, undoing Susan's braids and combing her fingers through her brown hair. The same brown hair Susan inherited from Mommy.
"I don't like it," Susan blurted out.
Mommy briefly stopped combing Susan's hair, but then continued. "Why not?"
The hot tears that Susan had been suppressing all day finally came gushing out of her eyes. "Ms. Schuyler hates me."
"Sweetheart, you don't know that." But Susan caught some uncertainty in Mommy's voice. It was always like that with Mommy. Mommy always tried to look strong for Susan, but Susan knew. She knew Mommy was fragile. She heard Mommy break down into hysterical tears long after Susan had been put to bed. Mommy was beautiful, but there was always a strange sadness in her eyes, unlike Ms. Schuyler's cheerfulness.
"Ms. Schuyler, s-she likes everyone b-but me," Susan cried, her voice hiccuping through her tears. "She always treats everyone nicely, but when s-she calls on me"—Susan hiccuped again—"it's like she b-becomes a d-different person." She sniffed. "Did I do something wrong? Is that why she hates me?"
Mommy turned Susan's face to her. "Honey, you didn't do anything wrong. I'm sure Ms. Schuyler doesn't hate you."
"Mommy," Susan started. "Do you know Ms. Schuyler?"
Mommy froze, but quickly composed herself. "Yes… we knew each other—"
"Does Ms. Schuyler hate you?" Susan interrupted.
Mommy stiffened. "That's a story for another time," she said, and got up. "Come, Susan. I'll prepare your bath for you, and then we can have dinner." Mommy grinned. "How do you feel about some lasagna tonight?" Susan perked up, and she nodded eagerly. Mommy laughed. "That's my girl. Now come on."
After a bath and a delicious dinner, Mommy tucked Susan into bed. She kissed Susan's forehead. "Goodnight, sweetie."
"Goodnight, Mommy," Susan said, her eyelids closing as she gave her mother a droopy smile. Mommy shut the door.
The next day at school was torture for Susan. Ms. Schuyler treated her the same as she did yesterday, looking anywhere but her.
"She's so nice!" Susan heard one of the girls in her class gush to another classmate during recess.
"Yeah, but do you notice she doesn't talk to that girl like everyone else? What was her name? Susie? Susa?" her friend asked. Susan felt a knot form in her stomach.
"I think it's Susan," the first girl corrected. "She probably did something wrong, and that's why Ms. Schuyler hates her." Tears welled up in Susan's eyes. "She's also weird and ugly. Of course Ms. Schuyler wouldn't like her."
"My mommy tells me not to talk to her," the girl's friend said. "She says her mommy is a bad woman, and that her daughter is also bad."
Susan ran off, for she couldn't bear to hear any more of it.
She found herself near the school's garden, which was currently empty due to the coming cold season. Susan plopped herself next to the flower bed, and stared dejectedly at the soil. Out of the corner of her eye, she spied a small worm wiggling its way through the dirt. The worm slowly curved this way and that. Susan noticed that the worm was also by itself. Relieved that she had something in common with someone at last, Susan stayed with her new friend until Ms. Schuyler called for the children to come back inside.
Susan was beside herself with joy when it was time to go home. Mommy picked her up like she did yesterday, but she was later this time. Susan waved a quick goodbye to Ms. Schuyler, and soon, they were walking away from the school, mother and daughter hand-in-hand.
They had reached the outside of the school gates when Susan saw them. Five children, one girl and four boys, busily chatting among themselves. Four of them, including the girl, were older than Susan, while the fifth one looked around her age.
The girl looked up as she was sharing a joke, and stopped dead in her tracks. Her four companions also stopped, and when they saw she was looking at Mommy, they also froze. It was as if they had seen a ghost. Five pale faces, their staring eyes boring into Mommy.
Mommy also saw them, and her eyes widened. Susan felt Mommy's grip on her hand tighten.
For a moment, they were silent, with only a thick slice of tension between the two parties. Mommy smiled sheepishly at the children and proceeded to walk around them, when the girl spoke.
"What are you doing here?" she asked coldly. Susan saw that Mommy was internally debating whether or not she should answer, when the girl continued. "Did you come here to mock our mom? To tell her all about your new life with him? Oh, or did you want to relay every single detail of your little meetings with him? Just like he did?"
Mommy was quiet, then, in a small voice, she said, "I'm so sorry for what I did. I know it was unforgivable—"
"Like hell it was unforgivable!" the girl exploded. "Do you have any idea what you two did to our mother? She and that—that man were so happy together, until you came in!" The girl was breathing heavily now. "You had to go and tear us apart. You knew it was wrong. You knew how it would affect the rest of us. But no! You were enjoying yourselves so much."
The girl continued yelling awful things at Mommy, the other children glaring at Mommy as well. Susan could feel it. Their hatred and the girl's words, all slashing into Mommy as she stood there, taking it all in. Why was she not defending herself? Mommy's eyes filled with tears that she refused to let out. The girl was also crying, but her tears, too, crashed into Mommy like an angry flood.
"Harlot!" the girl screamed. A verbal slash across Mommy's cheek.
"Slut!" Another one across her breast.
"Bitch!" A third one across her arm.
"Whore!" One across her stomach.
And Mommy was still standing there.
Just then, one of the children, a boy who was taller than the girl, noticed Susan for the first time. His eyes widened, and he quickly grabbed the girl's arm. "Angie, stop!"
The girl, Angie, continued her furious rant at Mommy, ignoring the boy.
"Why are you even still here?" the girl spat. "Why don't you just—"
"Angie, STOP! You're scaring the little girl!" Angie opened her mouth to say more nasty things to Mommy, when she processed what her brother just said, and saw Susan, cowering behind Mommy.
However, Susan had had enough. She bravely stepped out from behind Mommy and stood protectively in front of her. "Leave my mommy alone!" she screamed at the girl. "What did Mommy ever do to you? You—you whore!" That word had hurt Mommy, and Susan wanted to use it to hurt this girl.
The girl stood there, stunned. "Susan." Mommy's voice came out, quiet but stern. "Let's go home." She bowed her head in front of the children. "I'm deeply sorry for what I did. I wish you no harm. I simply came here to pick up my daughter. Nothing else." Then Mommy walked away, tugging Susan along with her. Away from the school, away from the hatred.
When they got back home, Mommy closed the door and leaned against it. "Susan," she scolded. "Never say that word again."
Susan was confused. "What word?"
"What you called that girl before. Never say it again."
"But Mommy, that girl-"
"It's a bad word, Susan!" Mommy snapped. Susan flinched. She had never seen her mother so angry before. Then Mommy softened. "I'm sorry for scaring you, sweetie. Mommy's just… really tired now. Just promise me you will never use that word again."
Susan nodded. "I promise." She didn't want to make Mommy mad again.
Mommy got off the door and motioned for Susan to follow her, a dim smile on her face. "Now let's get you a bath, okay?"
"Yes, Mommy."