Clara ran as fast as she could and tried to break through the line between Lisa and Karen, the weakest link. Lisa’s and Karen’s hands remained clasped, with Clara left dangling from their arms in midair, and Clara was forced to join Jeff’s line.
The game was tied, with the same number of players in each line. Will made the next call.
“Red Rover, Red Rover, send the harelip right over,” yelled Will.
Lisa let go of Karen’s hand. Tears burned her eyes, but she refused to cry. Jeff issued a reply.
“If you don’t use the player’s name, then you lose your turn,” yelled Jeff.
“All right,” barked Will. “Red Rover, Red Rover, send Lisa the Harelip right over.”
Lisa felt naked before her class. There was now no doubt about it; everyone in her class knew her secret. Lisa was a harelip. But this truth set Lisa free. Lisa did not get a stomachache. She did not need to check out of school to hide from her classmates. She was free. Free to be the girl she really was, a girl with a cleft palate and cleft lip. Her classmates liked her before they knew her secret. Now they should like her even more because of the courage it took her to overcome her secret. Lisa was tough. As tough as nails.
Lisa ran as fast as she could and tried to break through the line between Roxanne and Becky, their weakest link. Roxanne’s and Becky’s hands remained clasped, with Lisa swinging from their arms in midair, and Lisa was forced to join Will’s side. Will, the strongest link, made Lisa, the weakest link, stand next to him and hold his hand. Jeff made the next call.
“Red Rover, Red Rover, send Becky right over,” yelled Jeff.
Becky ran as fast as she could and tried to break through the line between Karen and Clara, their weakest link. Karen’s and Clara’s hands remained clasped, with Becky dangling from their arms in midair, and Becky was forced to join Jeff’s side. The game was still tied. Will made the next call.
“Red Rover, Red Rover, send Clara right over,” yelled Will.
“Clara, try to break through the line between Will and me,” yelled Lisa.
Clara ran as fast as she could. At the moment she was about to reach Lisa and Will, Lisa let go of Will’s hand. Clara broke through the line and took Will back to Jeff’s line. Jeff’s line now had more players than Will’s line. Will had been dethroned. He was no longer a captain but rather a captive. Turnabout was fair play.
Lisa won a lot more than the spelling bee that day. She won her freedom. She had overcome.
Chapter Twenty
The Award
During the first week of May, Miss Newell had a special announcement for Lisa’s class. Miss Newell was wearing a black sleeveless dress with a pink silk scarf and black pumps. She was using her sweet voice.
“Now, class,” said Miss Newell, “my sweet, sweet students, you remember that essay you wrote back in September? The one about why the death of Mr. King was for the best?”
“For the best?” asked Karen.
“Sweetie, you weren’t here in September,” said the sweet Miss Newell, “so you can’t participate in this contest. I encouraged the children to write their essays on why Mr. King’s death was for the best because of the hornet’s nest he stirred up in the Negro quarter during his lifetime.”
Miss Newell now changed into her mean voice.
“Well, a sixth grader from our school won the contest,” barked Miss Newell. “The school board will announce the winner in the auditorium on the last day of school, and the winner will receive an award.”
“Can you tell us who won?” asked Cathy.
“No, honey, I can’t,” said the sweet Miss Newell. “But it certainly wasn’t my first choice,” snarled the mean Miss Newell, who was glaring at Lisa.
Lisa smiled. For the first time she was not afraid of Miss Newell’s mean voice. She remembered the essay she had written. It said that the assassination of Dr. King was for the worst. Could her essay be the winning essay? Only time would tell.
Lisa also remembered that Miss Newell called her a “colored cuddler” for honoring Dr. King in her essay. Perhaps the members of the school board did not share Miss Newell’s view of her essay. Lisa could not wait to get home to tell her father about the contest and her essay. This time there would be no secrets to hide from her father.
That evening at dinner Lisa was bursting with news.
“Daddy, guess what,” said Lisa.
“You won the spelling bee!” exclaimed her father.
“No, Daddy,” Lisa said, “something else.”
“I don’t know, Sissy,” said her father. “What is it?”
“Back in September the sixth grade wrote essays about the assassination of Dr. King as part of a contest sponsored by the school board,” said Lisa.
“That’s wonderful, Sissy,” said her father.
“Well, someone from our school won the contest,” said Lisa, “and the school board is going to give the winner an award in the auditorium on the last day of school.”
“Well, this calls for a new dress,” said her mother.
“But I may not win,” said Lisa.
“Of course you’ll win,” said her mother. “Why, you write better than anyone in your grade.”
“Thank you, Mother,” said Lisa.
That night Lisa dreamed that Miss Loomis was at the Lincoln Memorial giving Dr. King’s “I Have a Dream” speech before thousands. Her tiny hands turned into two white doves, which flew over the reflecting pool. She bowed before the audience at the close of her speech. Beside her was a large loom, but she could not weave any cloth because she had no hands.
Lisa remembered this dream when she awoke, and she thought of Miss Loomis. She wondered if Miss Loomis was still troubled by the mean words of Will and David. She wondered if Reverend Reed checked on Miss Loomis from time to time. She wondered if Miss Loomis would return to Wyatt in the fall. But mostly, she wondered if Miss Loomis was happy.
“In my dream,” thought Lisa, “Miss Loomis is doing great things. Miss Loomis did great things at Wyatt, and I hope that she will continue to do great things. Only time will tell.”
Time passed slowly during the month of May. It had been a month since Miss Loomis left, but it seemed like an eternity to Lisa. Class with Mrs. Weaver moved at a snail’s pace. All of the wonder and mystery of Miss Loomis’s class was gone, and in its place grew the seeds of complaisance. As long as the class cooperated with Mrs. Weaver, class would be easy. This cooperation took the form of blind obedience to Mrs. Weaver’s book list. Gone was Miss Loomis’s selection of Little Women, and in its place was Mrs. Weaver’s selection of Uncle Remus Stories. Plantation life was once again glorified by a Wyatt teacher.
Mrs. Weaver had bleached blonde hair and wore brightly colored floral dresses. She dressed like she lived in Hawaii, not Alabama. And she said a mental “aloha” to Miss Loomis as she took the reins of sixth-grade English.
“Class,” said Mrs. Weaver, “today you are going to write a one-page essay on why plantation life was for the best.”
“You’ve got to be kidding,” said Karen. “Blacks were slaves on the plantations.”
“And they were often beaten to the point of death and mistreated,” said Lisa.
“I was warned about you two and your liberal views,” said Mrs. Weaver. “In my class, plantation life was a happy life for slave and master alike.”
Lisa could not believe what Mrs. Weaver was saying. Then she remembered how she phrased the essay for Miss Newell’s class.
“May we write why plantation life was for the worst?” asked Lisa.
“I don’t care what you and Karen write about,” said Mrs. Weaver, “but the good grades go to those who write a positive essay.”
Mrs. Weaver had adopted the Pollyanna philosophy, which said that every person, place, or thing could be described in positive terms.
“That’s not fair,” said Lisa.
“Life is not always fair,” said Mrs. Weaver.
“Well, we’ll just write our essays on
why freedom for the slaves was for the best,” said Karen with a clever turn of phrase.
“Write it how you choose, as long as it’s positive,” said Mrs. Weaver.
“Thank you, ma’am,” said Lisa.
Lisa and Karen wrote the only essays on why freedom for the slaves was for the best. The rest of the class wrote essays on why plantation life was for the best. Because all of the essays in Lisa’s class were written from positive points of view, Mrs. Weaver awarded As to all of her students.
While Mrs. Weaver was stuck in plantation times, Mrs. Duke was preparing the students for the Apollo 11 moon landing in July. It was the last week of school. The awards ceremony was tomorrow.
“Class,” said Mrs. Duke while pointing to a poster of the moon, “the astronauts studied a mean moon to aid in plotting their landing site on the real moon.”
“You mean the moon is mean to the astronauts?” asked Becky. “Kind of like the way some children are mean to others on the playground?”
“No, Becky,” said Mrs. Duke while batting her eyelashes.
Mrs. Duke took a model of the moon and began revolving it in her hands around a model of the earth.
“A mean moon is a make-believe moon,” said Mrs. Duke. “This play moon is imagined, for purposes of calculation, to revolve around the earth uniformly as the real moon would.”
“I’m confused,” said Jeff. “Are the astronauts landing on a make-believe moon?”
“No, Jeff,” said Mrs. Duke, “the astronauts are landing on the real moon. The mean moon just helped them chart their course.”
“So the mean moon is a good thing,” said Lisa.
“Yes, Lisa,” said Mrs. Duke, “the mean moon is a good thing. The word ‘mean’ in ‘mean moon’ does not mean unkind or hurtful—it relates to mathematical calculations.”
“That’s cool,” said Lisa. “And guess what—I’m eleven, and the spacecraft is named Apollo 11.”
“Very good, Lisa,” said Mrs. Duke, “very good. The three astronauts going into space are white men. They make the perfect team for this mission”
“Are you saying that blacks or women couldn’t be astronauts on this mission?” asked Lisa.
“That’s exactly what I’m saying—blacks aren’t smart enough, and women are too weak to go into space,” said Mrs. Duke. “Why, women and blacks can’t fly planes.”
“Oh, yes, they can,” said Lisa. “Amelia Earhart and the Tuskegee Airmen flew planes.”
“Yes, and look what happened to Miss Earhart,” said Mrs. Duke. “The moon mission is clearly a job for white men.”
“Well I think that one day women and blacks will go into space,” said Lisa.
“Wishful thinking,” said Mrs. Duke, “wishful thinking.”
The discussion of the mean moon and the white astronauts carried over to the playground. Will began taunting Lisa and used the moon as his new weapon.
“I know what a mean moon really is,” said Will. “It’s when the astronauts jump up and down on the moon and say mean things.”
“No, it’s not,” said Karen.
“Shut up, Miss POW,” said David.
“A mean moon is when the astronauts say, ‘Lisa is a harelip,’ over and over,” said Will.
Lisa flinched at the mention of the word “harelip,” but she did not get a stomachache. She took some deep breaths and responded to the bully.
“You are confusing cruel words with a mean moon,” said Lisa. “A mean moon cannot hurt me, unlike you.”
“Well, you can never go to the moon because you’re a girl,” said Will.
“Yeah, weakling,” said David.
“I predict that during my lifetime a woman will go into space,” said Lisa.
“You’re dreaming,” said Will.
“Yeah, dreaming of castles in the sky,” said David.
“No, I’m dreaming of women in the sky,” said Lisa.
“You’re dreaming of a harelip woman in the sky,” said Will.
“Yeah, harelip,” said David.
“Will and David,” said Jeff, “leave Lisa alone.”
“Thanks, Jeff,” said Lisa.
“Well, well, well,” said Will, “it seems we have two lovebirds on the playground.”
“Yeah, lovebirds,” said David.
Jeff turned red and replied, “I’m just sticking up for Lisa.”
Lisa was dumbstruck—was Jeff the one who sent her the mushy valentine? Only time would tell.
Jeff escorted Lisa and Karen away from Will and David. There would be no more discussions of mean moons or mushy valentines that day.
That night at dinner the conversation revolved around the awards ceremony tomorrow.
“I just know you’re going to win,” said Lisa’s mother. “I have a surprise for you.”
Lisa’s mother walked into the laundry room and came back with a new dress for Lisa. The sleeveless dress was navy blue with a large white collar.
“It’s beautiful,” said Lisa. “But I might not win.”
“You have as good a chance as anyone in your grade,” said Lisa’s father. “Wear the dress with pride.”
“Yes, sir,” said Lisa.
Lisa’s father smiled and winked at Lisa’s mother.
That night Lisa dreamed that the moon really was mean because the man in the moon called her a harelip. Lisa awoke refreshed and wondered why there wasn’t a woman in the moon, too. She put on her new dress and went to school.
It was the last day of school, and everyone was excited. At nine o’clock all of the sixth graders headed to the auditorium. Onstage were several men and women along with Miss Newell and Principal Breen. At a table on the stage was a gold medal attached to a ribbon with red, white, and blue stripes. Next to the gold medal was a piece of white notebook paper with dark cursive writing on it.
In the front row of the auditorium Lisa saw all of her family seated together. There were her parents, Harold, Mark, and Ozella, who held baby Elizabeth. Ozella was not wearing her maid’s uniform; she was dressed in a black dress that was piped in white. Lisa’s parents motioned for Lisa to sit beside them. Lisa sat at the end of the row next to her father.
Lisa felt a tap on her shoulder and looked up to see Miss Loomis and Reverend Reed. Lisa stood up and hugged Miss Loomis, who was wearing a navy dress with a red bow. Lisa and her family moved over two seats, and Miss Loomis and Reverend Reed sat down next to Lisa. Principal Breen was standing at the podium.
“May I have your attention, please,” said Principal Breen. “I welcome you to this special awards ceremony. Last September the City of Montgomery School Board announced a contest open to all Montgomery-public-school sixth graders. Each sixth grader wrote a one-page essay on the death of Dr. Martin Luther King. The best essay as judged by the school board would be given an award the following May. Here to present the award for best essay is Dr. Rufus Carter of the City of Montgomery School Board.”
An elderly Negro man with white hair and glasses took the gold medal from the table and approached the podium. He was wearing a black suit with a red tie.
“It is my pleasure to announce the winner of the essay contest—Lisa Parker, will you please come forward.”
The auditorium erupted in applause as Lisa walked to the podium.
“Congratulations, Lisa,” said Dr. Carter. “On behalf of the City of Montgomery School Board, I hereby bestow upon you this gold medal in recognition of your excellent essay.”
Dr. Carter placed the gold medal around Lisa’s neck. The audience applauded.
“Principal Breen,” said Dr. Carter, “may I have Lisa’s essay, please?”
Principal Breen took the piece of notebook paper from the table and handed it to Dr. Carter.
“Lisa, your essay was meant to be shared,” said Dr. Carter. “Would you please read your essay to the audience?”
Dr. Carter handed the essay to Lisa. Lisa moved to the podium and stood in front of its microphone. She began to get a nervous stomach and touched her g
old medal for luck.
“Yes, sir,” said Lisa.
Lisa glanced down at her essay and saw trouble on the horizon. She took a deep breath and began reading aloud.
“I believe that the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King was one of the worst experiences in our nation’s history. I was born with a gaping black hole in the center of my face.”
Lisa felt her face grow red with embarrassment. She had just told the world her secret. Yet, surprisingly, the earth did not fall off its axis and spin out of control. The earth continued to revolve around the sun while the moon continued to revolve around the earth. Lisa took another deep breath and continued reading.
“The assassination of Dr. King left a gaping black hole in the center of this country. Although surgery repaired my gaping black hole, there is no surgical procedure to repair the gaping black hole in this country. Dr. King sought to unite the races in friendship. His assassination seeks to divide the races as enemies. Only the principle of racial equality can begin to close the gaping black hole in this nation. There will never be another Dr. King, but his words will live on in our hearts: ‘Free at last, free at last, thank God Almighty, we are free at last.’” Lisa finished reading her paper and looked up at the audience.
“Let’s give her a hand,” said Dr. Carter. “Thank you, Lisa.”
The auditorium erupted in applause. Lisa looked at her parents, who had tears in their eyes. Ozella was grinning from ear to ear, and even baby Elizabeth was excited. The boys were jumping up and down.
Lisa then looked at Miss Loomis and Reverend Reed, who had tears in their eyes. Their applause meant the world to Lisa. It took courage for Miss Loomis to return to Wyatt to see Lisa. Lisa was Miss Loomis’s shining star once again.
Chapter Twenty-one
The First Day
Lisa awoke, and anxious thoughts immediately flooded her brain. It was the first day of school at Elmwood Junior High, and Lisa felt like she was going to throw up. Then she remembered Miss Loomis and smiled.
“Please, God,” prayed Lisa, “give Miss Loomis a great first day at Head Start.”
Today was a special day for Miss Loomis. She was starting work as a teacher for the Montgomery Head Start program for underprivileged preschoolers.
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