The sun rises and awakens the silent streets of parked cars waiting for its engine to be roused and ready to roam the streets.
Crepuscular rays shed its light on the world that was once dark minutes ago.
It is a warm morning as I am standing at the corner of my block to be picked up by the bus driver. I sit in the very back of the bus and my stomach begins to ache from all the bumps on the way to school.
Mrs. Janet was not at the door to greet us today, but rather an unfamiliar woman who claims to be Ms. Donahue, our substitute teacher for the day.
My stomach ache has not been treating me well so I ask Ms. Donahue If i can go to the washroom. She refuses to let me go and so I walk back to my desk and continue my silent reading with the class. Not even a few minutes later my classmate, Sarah, asks to go to the washroom and the substitute teacher permits her to go, along with a friendly smile.
Hours go by and all of the attempts of asking to go to the washroom has been denied.
Ms.Donahue then calls me not by my name or last name but “chocolate milk”.
“Hey you, uh chocolate milk.”
As I am occupied with my assignment I quickly look up and the whole class is staring at me. A few are giggling, covering themselves with their hands, and most sit at their desks with looks of confusion.
“My name is Lovelee and I politely ask you to never call me that again”.
The substitute teacher gives the class a whole lecture on how it is important to give teachers respect and uses me as an example as to why people like me cannot have nice things and are the types of people who deserve to be put aside. She proceeded to call me out for “being disrespectful” for talking back to a teacher and by doing so, she sent me to the office for the rest of the day.
- I think we have all gone through a point in our elementary years where we got called names by our friends, but I would never expect myself to be called “chocolate milk” because of my skin color especially coming from a substitute teacher. Ever since that event took place, when our class went outside some classmates would not stop calling me that name and the teacher would laugh along too. From that day on I have realized that I differ from some people in my class. I used to sometimes wonder what life would be like if I were white and imagine how well I would be treated. Seeing other people going through similar and extreme experiences of racism gives me strength and courage that we can all come together and stand up. I have realized that racism is a recurring issue and that it takes a nation for it to end. I am very proud to be a person of color and even though I may get treated differently because of that, I can use my voice to educate those who are “colorblind” in hopes that they can eventually see the beauty of all colors.
Hi Lovelee,
It is hard to read about stories such as this when it comes to racism, but you did an excellent job of providing a memory related to differences in skin colour and racism in general. I enjoyed the use of descriptive text when you are introducing the setting within the first few lines of your story, especially when you said “crepuscular rays shed its light on the world that was once dark minutes ago.”
While continuing through your story, there were a few places that I felt could have used a bit more detail to help me as the reader be there in the moment with you. In the beginning of your story, I noticed that you seemed to jump from you waiting for the bus to you sitting in the back of the bus. It would be nice to see some more detail about you physically getting onto the bus and what you saw while doing so! I also find myself wondering more about the classroom and what it looks like while you are sat there in the moment.
When you introduce us to the “unfamiliar women” known as Ms. Donahue, you mention she is the substitute teacher, but I wonder if you considered stating what she looks like. What was she wearing? Did she seem to be younger or older? It was unfortunate to see the difference between you asking for her permission to use the washroom and your other classmates asking, but this demonstrated an important concept in your story. It is hard to imagine being in your position when the other students began calling you “chocolate milk,” especially since the teacher was laughing as well.
Even though I am not able to relate to an experience involving race like this, the fact that it happened to you brings about so many emotions. I can relate when you mention “my stomach begins to ache from all the bumps on the way to school,” being that this made me remember my experiences riding on a bus down our rough highway, making my stomach hurt as well to the point I would often get car sick during our school field trips.
When I approached the end of your story, I started to wonder what grade were you in when this experience happened? It is clear that Ms. Donahue had a negative belief about race, perhaps because she was not properly educated about it. It made me happy to hear in the end that this experience gave you courage and that you are proud to be you because this shows your deeper understanding of this topic in today’s society, which is extremely important. Overall you made an excellent connection to racism and I hope you never have to experience anything like this again!
Hey Brianna!
Thank you for your input. Getting feedback from someone and getting a glance from a different reader’s perspective really helps me improve my writing.
I totally agree with you with adding more detail – the bus ride, classroom setting, and substitute teacher’s clothing.
This experience was in Grade 8. Adding more about Mrs. Donahue, I had a few classmates from another class telling me that they had a similar experience like mine from the grade 7 class as well. I hope she has gained a better understanding of the many cultures she is surrounded with from all these years!