Jane waited in class next to Will and chewed on her lip. Up late the night before working on her project, she clutched it protectively as her stomach churned. If she could just forget that dream about Jim maybe she could focus better. She imagined him burning in pain as a machine (Joyce could only describe to her as 'an electric cannon') exploded—the hero of her life taken away from her by cruel fate. As lack of sleep made El emotional, she adjusted the blue band on her wrist to remind her of Jim's love, since it was once worn by his daughter, Sara.
Will bounced his knee and nodded to El again, and she flickered a smile. He watched her blink her moist eyes.
Angela finished her smooth elucidation of the life of Helen Keller with surety and composure. The disability rights advocate was famous and admired by everyone making it a safe choice. Angela's perfectly groomed blonde hair and fashionable clothing completed her performance with aplomb. One could get the impression her speech was fabricated by an encyclopedia and presented by a robot: smooth, tidy, and boring.
"What an inspiring story," the teacher said. Angela giggled.
"Okay," she announced. "Now let's see who has to follow that…"
Mrs.Gracey dipped her hand in a fishbowl and pulled out another name.
"Jane," she said.
El's eyes widened and she glanced at Will.
A few light claps from the students, lackadaisical claps from Angela, and Will's positive nod of support helped usher Jane to the front of the room. Applause soon the room fell silent. Disinterested students awaited her presentation.
Keeping her elbows tight and looking around, El held the box securely. Her mouth lost all of its moisture, her eyes flitted here and there, and she struggled to say something. She had it all planned, but the words had gone. What now? She needed desperately to say something…how about—
"Hi," she blurted. Then the silence came back in full force. She paused far too long. People lost interest and looked elsewhere. She recalled Will's coaching and started over.
"For my hero, I..." she said and stopped to swallow, "I chose my dad."
El knew she was in trouble because of the student's reactions—glancing at each other with smiles of pity or disdain. Angela drew Jane's eye as she furrowed her brow. But she pressed forward as rehearsed while half-asleep teen students, already moody and yearning for excitement, anticipated an opportunity to be cynical and disparaging.
"And for my visual aid," El carefully rotated the box in her hands, "I made a 'direyama' of our cabin."
"More like diarrhea," commented a boy sitting next to Angela. The students openly laughed, including Angela.
Eleven (or Jane Hopper to these people) nodded a quick grin to the jokester while inside her stomach sank, a longing to be anywhere else in the world crept into her spinning mind, and the hurt of the comment began to eat away at her like battery acid on steel.
The teacher responded to correct the delinquents.
"Quiet, everyone. Let's be respectful."
Respectful or humane? El thought as the laughter subsided. Her presentation already seemed a joke. Hopper had told her to leave 'the cave' and that life would hurt—and this was part of the hurt. She picked up the figure she spent hours making and painting.
"This is my dad," she said as her eyes drifted back to Angela.
"His name is Hopper. He made the best Eggos, and..."
El could see Will's head turn to a girl on his right. Perhaps he was being distracted?
"...we liked to watch Miami Vice on Fridays." El took a breath, her spirit lighter. The group seemed to be taking interest at last. She smiled. Perhaps this could work?
El picked up another figure.
"This is Mr. Fibbly," she said. "He is a squirrel."
A girl giggled, Angela snorted, and laughter spread throughout the classroom. El's hopes rose—maybe they were laughing with her—not at her. Then she saw Will nod his head in support of her. Could she be swinging a few people her way? Did they like her? Please?
El pointed to a string on her diorama. She was going to make it to the end as planned, to say the most important thing.
"And this is the alarm that my dad made. I..." she said, losing her breath when Angela raised her hand, smiling and confident. El began to tremble but pushed onward, hoping for the best. Her most important point needed to be made. She was no longer scared of the bad men.
"I was *never* scared because... Beca..." she paused and she turned to the teacher as Angela's raised hand drew her attention. El's spirits fell into an abyss.
"Angela, let's save questions until the end of Jane's presentation."
"Yeah. Sorry," Angela disrespectfully continued to interrupt, "I'm just like, *confused*" she lied. "I thought this was a presentation about a *historical* hero?"
El narrowed her gaze at Angela, saying "My dad was in the newspaper."
Instantly a gleam of joy flickered in Angela's eye as she jumped on the opportunity, saying, "Your local paper?" The insult hit home and Angela laughed.
Then the majority of students laughed at the idea of a local hero. Especially when everyone knew she was from a small backwater town. Her father was now a different kind of hero, like Nig Bubba was a hero of the barbequed ribs competition in the Podunk, Nowheresville Fair. Angela pressed her attack—disregarding the obvious love Jane had for her deceased father.
"I just don't think that's what Mrs. Gracey meant by *historical* This is supposed to be about *famous* people."
Will paled.
El frowned and felt heat in her cheeks. Her shoulders slumped and her chest felt heavy.
"My dad is famous," she said fighting back tears and clenching her hands on the diorama. "He saved lots of lives…In a mall fire."
She couldn't explain. The truth of his sacrifice to save Hawkins and perhaps the world would forever be hidden in the lie of the 'Mall Fire' perpetrated by the DIA. There was so much to explain about him, and time was slipping away, thanks to Angela.
"He was a hero for people. And he was my hero too."
A note of sadness hit the room. As El looked around for support the students averted their eyes. No support here.
"That's not what I'm saying at all," Angel pressed on displaying her best simulated sympathy, "but, it's okay."
Angela now implied that Jane simply misunderstood what she was saying, yet another carefully crafted insult.
On the contrary, it was obvious to everyone but the teacher that El's hero would always be Hopper. Was his death not a tragedy because he was not famous enough? Historical enough to be written about in books? Who said so…Angela?
Angela faked an apology to the teacher, "I am *so* sorry, Mrs. Gracey. I didn't mean to interrupt. I just wanted clarity on the rules of the assignment" She smiled, beaming in glorious victory.
"Well, technically, you are correct, but Jane has decided to do her father. So, please, continue with your presentation, Jane."
And there it was, no support from the instructor to be found. The question of which committee decided 'famousness' was now irrelevant, decided by the arbiter of fame: Angela. Jane shuddered under the impact of having misunderstood the assignment in everyone else's eyes. Jane lost. Jane proved to be the unworthy outsider, once again.
The bell rang, and it was over. She wanted to crawl in a hole.
Will tried to cheer her up, but it was far too late for that. She walked off.
[Note: this scene and all of Stranger Things are owned by Netflix and the Duffer Brothers. It can be looked up on YouTube in no way am I trying to impinge on their amazing work, instead, I am trying to draw attention to it where attention should be given. Look it up we're watching it on Netflix, it's truly amazing, a masterpiece.]