OFFICAL TELEVISED TRANSCRIPT:

Good evening from Broadcast Information and Entertainment. These following conversations are made upon the subject of the Dragons d'Alacala and their indefinite servitude from the view point of ordinary citizens. Our objective is simple: to shine light upon the public and how they view this certain matter of public policy. All of these interviews are age appropriate so children are not discouraged from listening. With the magic of television, we are able to deliever and preserve this moment of history for future generations.

We hope you will be listening with open ears and open minds.

TRANSCRIPT TO BE READ:

Good evening, my name is Ezekiel Finch from Broadcast Information and Entertainment. I had the oppertunity to interview a schoolteacher who taught young dragons. On behalf of BIE, I hope you shall be listening with open ears and open minds.

START TAPE:

"I volunteered to be part of the ERP, Educational Reformation Program, but everyone and their grandmothers jumped in to stop me. They said I'd get nowhere with those kids, that it was a waste of shoes to walk over there, and that my life would be endangered if I was in a room with the savage children. Ridiculous. You know what? They said it was no place for a woman to be in the working room and drive a car, and look! I'm a woman who drives to work every day. Nifty ain't it!"

She laughs.

"So before I could start workin' for the ERP I needed to get my identification card, my government services card, and all this bureaucratic nonsense. I sat through the ramblin' and the spiels and the interviews, and you know why? Cause I just wanna teach. So I finally got the teacher's materials, the teacher's textbook, and a wad of cash to get supplies and it really was a wad of cash. They handed me an envelope with all these bills and they didn't say how much money was in there."

She frowns at some specter in the distance.

"I was at home after that trying to make the lesson plan for the next month. I wanted to make the first day as eventful and easy as possible for these kids. Everyone says that these kids aren't that bright or eager to learn so I decided to take it slow for them. But then I get a call at what must've been nine at night from the ERP telling me where the schoolhouse was. I already knew so I thanked them but they also asked if I needed an escort. 'An escort, a police escort,' they said and I told them no thank you. Why on earth would I need an escort for teaching?"

She frowns at the specter again.

"I knew that the school was in the Dragon slum but I knew I didn't need an escort. From the first day, I knew that I would go to the local slum to work but that never bothered me. No sir. It's not like the slum here is a huge district; it's not that big in my opinion. The first day, I drove for an hour trying to find a way into the slums and when I did, oh golly. All these people just started to clear the road and I thought, 'how polite,' but then I realized that they were running into their houses. And then I realized that I wasn't driving on a road. I was driving on a very large dirt pathway."

The frown disappears.

"The schoolhouse was just like the rest of the slum I was in: dusty, single floor, and tiny windows. I got out of my car and I was like in a ghost town or something. Eerie. But I walked into the school and something caught my eye. Against the ugly hanging lights, the tiny windows, the dust in the air, and the sooty floors, there were these tables and benches. They were polished and well cut and looked right out of a department store. Against the grey concrete walls, these tables and benches shone like amber gems. One by one these kids filtered into the single classroom and they looked exactly like the Dragons, only smaller. And at first they were scared but I think they felt safer as the day went by."

She sighs contently.

"They learn quickly you know? Kids are sponges when they're learning. They just soak it all in. They just kept on passing and they slowly felt more and more comfortable in class. One night I did a parent teacher night, because that's what all good school teachers do, and the parents were more uncomfortable than the kids! I mean the kids should be worried about what they have in the class but these parents were just petrified! They didn't even look at the little desserts I set out. They just stood there. Then I started talking to the parents and they tried to look away from me. I started to talk about their children and how well they're doing in class and immediately they just brightened up! I said that they were really getting the work and they're passing all their tests. They'd always ask if their child could pass the end of the year exam that the ERP hands out; I told every one of them that their child would pass with flying colors. They were ecstatic! They hugged their kids, they hugged me, and some even cried."

She smiles.

"But there was this one man who was just looking at the tables. I asked him if he was okay but he said something I'll never forget. 'These cost us one hundred ten dollars and twenty two cents. One hundred ten dollars and twenty two cents well spent.' And then I realized something. These people, they only make ten cents a day and those who can are the lucky ones. But the vast majority makes less than that. A hundred ten dollars, ten cents a day, that equals one thousand, one hundred twenty; that's simple arithmetic right there. But it's heartbreaking arithmetic. These people sacrificed one thousand, one hundred twenty days worth of work and put it into tables and benches. One thousand, one hundred days of back breaking labor that starts before the sun and ends after the sun has set. One thousand, one hundred days of living with mediocrity and working in pitiful conditions. One thousand, one hundred days of abuse, of taunting, of fear to just go to work. They have such high hopes for these kids and it shows."

The smile fades away.

"One day I fell down and bruised my arm while at the school and when I went home my husband threw a fit. He asked if those Dragons hurt me or touched me."

She shudders.

"I told him that I just fell down while working. It was nothing! He didn't listen, he didn't care, he couldn't. He just wanted to burn something, something of theirs. The next day, I came back to the school and everyone was just crowded around the school but there was no school. It was burned down. I didn't know what I could do, I didn't know what the kids could do, I didn't know what the parents could do."

She looks at the specter.

"I told them that I'd be back and I'll keep on teaching them, school or no school. But that man who just looked at the table came up to me and asked, 'how can you teach without a table, a chair, or a school?' And I said, 'a schoolroom is just a room with the word school in it. You don't need a schoolroom to have a teacher. You need a teacher to learn. You have a teacher and I'm not leaving.' I told them I'd be back the next day and there'd still be class. But I went back home and kicked my husband out, told him if I ever saw him again I'll report him, and I called up a divorce lawyer."

She strokes her ring-less finger.

"I never left because I love teaching and these kids love me teaching and their parents love their kids."

We stop in the middle of the local Dragons slum.

"Thank you for the ride."

She exits the car and is greeted by a gathering of kids and walks over to an apple tree. The words, "Class has begun," wafers through the air as a bell rings to call the children who run to her in excitement. They sit down underneath the shade of the apple tree and once as she has captured the eyes of all the children, she begins to read.