One Good Thing
They didn’t. After a few days, the only person who talked to me at all was Norman Capp, the boy who’d asked my name the first day. And I wished he wouldn’t.
Whenever I tried to start a conversation with the others — in the classroom in the morning, at the milk break, or at lunch — they made fun of my accent. If I tried to play in a game, they said I couldn’t. So at the milk break and lunch I talked only to Emmy, and in the classroom, I sat at my desk and (if I had a book) read.
I often thought of Pat’s words: “Maybe they’ll say ‘Uh! American girls!’ ” — that was smart of Pat.
One morning I was sitting at my desk reading as usual; and as usual, everyone ignored me until Norman Capp came in. I hoped that he would leave me alone.
“Libby drink Libby’s!” he said, and everyone laughed. “Libby’s” is a kind of milk they have in England; there were advertisements all over London that said DRINK LIBBY’S.
Then he jumped up on top of my desk and sang, as he did every morning. When he danced, he jumped and hopped all over the desk with his toes turned out — he looked silly, but everyone laughed at me. This is what he sang: “Libby there is milk for you! Nice and fresh, creamy too.”
He sang it over and over; the other kids laughed and laughed. I just sat there — what could I say? In America I never THOUGHT about what I was going to say, I just said it. When you think beforehand, it’s hard to say anything. So I didn’t.
“Look how narrow and slanted her eyes are,” someone — a girl — said.
“Ridiculous — like a blue-eyed Chinese,” said another girl.
I folded my arms across my chest and thought about Daniel Boone being tortured by Indians.
Do you know that story? It’s true — it happened in pioneer times. After the Indians captured his two sons, Daniel Boone ran after them — but by the time he caught up with them, the Indians had already killed the two boys. Then they tortured Daniel Boone, but no matter what they did to him, he didn’t make one sound or move one muscle in his face. The Indians rewarded his courage by letting him live.
I admire Daniel Boone; I’m proud that I’m an American like him.
“Especially with that short straight hair and ugly fringe that goes straight across her forehead.”
A “fringe” is what they call bangs. Mine are cut in a very straight line, and it’s true that compared to the kids in the class — who all looked kind of alike, with round eyes — mine are kind of odd-looking — narrow and slanted. It’s because my father’s ancestors are all Finns; but in America no one minded. In America, practically everyone looks different from everyone else, and it’s okay. That’s one thing America is about and one reason we fought the Revolution.
Then someone said, “Miss Bromley!” (that was the teacher) and Norman Capp went out and we stood at attention as Miss Bromley came in.
Then they all sang “God Save the Queen.” After the song, while everyone was sitting down, Miss Bromley looked at me and said, “Elizabeth, you weren’t singing. Don’t you know the words to ‘God Save the Queen’ by now?”
Their money was very different from ours. It was divided up into pounds (twenty shillings), shillings (twelve pennies), and pence (pennies). There were more coins than in America: a half-crown (two shillings and sixpence), a florin (two shillings), a shilling (twelve pennies), a six-pence (six pennies), a threepenny bit (three pennies), a tuppence (two pennies), a penny, and a ha’penny (half penny). All the coins said, “God save the Queen” in Latin.
Of course, I did. I said, “I don’t sing it because I’m an American, and we don’t believe in kings and queens. We believe in liberty and justice for all — that’s what the Revolution and the Boston Tea Party were about. I’ll stand up, but I won’t sing.”
And if you try and make me, I won’t do it, I thought. She just stared at me and I stared right back, thinking, I won’t sing that song even if you hit me with your ruler (they did that to kids there). I won’t do it and you can’t make me. But I didn’t say anything; I just stared at her. After a while, she looked down at her desk and said, “Very well, then, stand but don’t sing.”
I hated school, I hated London, I hated living in England, but she couldn’t make me sing a song to their queen. That was one good thing, at least.