Women's Writes - Works

Women's Writes

Well-behaved women seldom make history.
— Laurel Thatcher Ulrich

Day 13

I don’t know how many of you have heard the news of school girls being gassed in Iran. It weighs on my mind. I remember the days I was in school, and had opportunities to learn and to be what I wanted. Like everyone else in my generation (and many other generations in the US), I was fed the lie that I could be anything I wanted, even as society and family were also urging me toward “proper” womanhood. Having that opportunity, getting to learn from people who knew more than I did, and learn about a variety of subjects, is a treasured memory. I became a life long learner, never stopping my quest for knowledge. I was only able to do this because feminists cleared the way for me, and our country was dragged (however reluctantly) into the twentieth century. There are those who would like to see us move back; some of them are in power. We need to be vigilant to ensure they never get enough to make the changes they desire. While we’re doing that, we need to spare some energy to the cause of preventing violence against women.

13 – SCHOOL GIRLS

The girls crouched behind their desks, staring at the door. Ms. Albee stood next to the door, ready to deal with any attacker, keep them away from her class. This school was the last refuge for girls wanting an education. The country shut down the last school that accepted females about six months ago, and now she remained the only thing between these girls and a life of being married to a man they didn’t love…if they were lucky, he wouldn’t beat them.

“Are we going to have to leave school?” Carolla had sobs in her voice; she was brilliant, at only ten already skilled at not only Algebra but Calculus. She could speak four languages and was well versed in the scientific method. She lived for school, her life at home nearly meaningless to her…a mother who cooked and cleaned and laundered, while her father and brothers ordered the females around. Carolla was only able to be in the school because her father sent her off to live with her sister; he didn’t want to continue paying to feed her. Her sister enrolled her in school, and supported her continuing even after school for females was outlawed.

“Not if I have anything to say about it.” Lou, a girl large for her age, growled. She was as likely to fight as any boy ever had been, and wasn’t one to let anyone kick her around. She was less interested in academics than most of the other girls, but excelled at physical tasks, and dreamed of being a mechanic. She would be a good one, and her father encouraged her, though her mother wanted her to be feminine. It wasn’t likely she ever would be.

Ms. Albee heard someone in the hallway. “Shh”, she whispered. The girls understood; they crouched lower, hoping an intruder wouldn’t see them. No further sounds escaped; they wouldn’t speak until their teacher told them it was safe.

The footsteps passed. Ms. Albee relaxed, but not too much. Every day it was another threat. They had taken refuge in this abandoned school and she had denied teaching girls, but she worried one day they would find them. She heard a chair scrape in the next room; she frowned. She wanted to shout at them to be quiet, but that would defeat the purpose of being quiet. She sent a text to Mr. Maynard, hoping he could keep them from repeating the noise.

The footsteps passed again; it sounded like they were going the opposite direction, toward the broken down door that led out of the school. Someone passed out of the school. Ms. Albee made herself as small as possible hoping they wouldn’t see her from the outside and suspect something was happening. She imagined all the other teachers were doing the same.

“That one was close.” She tried to keep a cheerful tone in her voice as the girls stood, their muscles cramped from crouching for so long. “Good job, girls. Follow my directions, and we’ll do our best to keep you safe.” She started the lesson that was aborted when the intruder alert sounded. Math. She had her back to the students, writing on the board, and didn’t see what happened when the first student fell. She heard the thud; by the time she got turned, girls were falling from their seats in large numbers. She had almost no time to think before she fell. She did get off a two word text to Mr. Maynard. “Poison gas.” She hoped he could get the rest of the girls out before it filled the building.