You know, I’ve been wondering about the person my brother killed. She was a transgender woman. The newspaper story was pretty vague. They called her a transvestite prostitute. And how do they know she was a prostitute? I get the feeling they just put that article in the newspaper as another example of the Mexican lowlifes that live in the city, which includes my brother and the woman he killed. Sometimes I get the feeling that, even though we’re the majority population in this town, Mexicans are still not wanted.
Seven
MRS. LIVERMORE HANDED BACK OUR TESTS.
“I want you all to know that I am on your side. I have started grading on a curve because I have come to understand that Hispanics are not comfortable in educational settings and I have made a note of that.”
Susie’s hand went up immediately—and it was like a flag flapping in the wind.
“Susie, did you want to say something?”
“Yes, I wanted to know where you got the information that Hispanics are uncomfortable in educational settings. I mean, did you read that somewhere? Does the KKK have an educational newsletter?”
“What does the KKK have to do with this conversation? I don’t have anything to do with that horrible organization.”
“They’re not an organization. They’re domestic terrorists.”
“I’m not going to argue with someone who has such extreme views.”
“I’m extreme?”
“To answer your question, I did not read an article. But I have had discussions with intelligent people who have given me insights in order to better serve my students. And I have observed that my students are indeed uncomfortable in educational settings. Does that answer your question?”
“It does.” I knew Susie Byrd, and she was just getting started. “Well, using my own powers of observation, I think that your students are uncomfortable only in educational settings where you happen to be the teacher.”
“I don’t know why you have decided to attack me instead of—”
Susie interrupted her. “Mrs. Livermore, you do know that you’re racist, don’t you?”
“That is an unfair and unjust accusation. I have no idea where you got the notion that you were entitled to attack your teachers with such venomous slanders. If I am to maintain order, I cannot allow you to remain in this class without an apology. I don’t know why you would be offended in any way, since you are not Hispanic and nothing I have said concerns you in the least.”
Susie kept crossing her arms, then biting her lip and playing with her necklace. I knew Susie—and I knew she was pissed. I mean, she was pissed. “I don’t have to be Hispanic to notice the condescending and downright insulting things you say. On the first day of class you said to José”—and then Susie began imitating the way she talked—“ ‘In Iowa there’s a brand of tortillas, Happy José tortillas, and he’s throwing a sombrero in the air.’ And then, if that wasn’t bad enough, you asked him if he had a sombrero—”
Mrs. Livermore interrupted her. “I was being friendly, and I don’t know why you think what I said is in any way derogatory.”
Susie rolled her eyes. “And every time someone you think is stupid gets a good grade on a test, when you’re passing them out, you always have to say shit like”—and again Susie imitated her voice—“ ‘You must have studied very hard, or perhaps you had some help.’ You are such a racist bitch!”
I wasn’t gonna let Susie go down in flames all by herself, and I jumped in before Mrs. Livermore could respond. “I agree.” And then I decided to add, “And on behalf of all your Hispanic students, and on behalf my mother, who is a schoolteacher, I am asking for an apology.”
All the students were giving a thumbs-up, but Mrs. Livermore’s anger and attention were focused on Susie and me.
“I’m afraid I misjudged you, Ari Mendoza. I thought you to be a cut above—”
I stopped her. “A cut above the rest of the Mexicans?”
“Do not put words in my mouth. But a self-appointed spokesman for an entire group of people should not be taken seriously.” And then she put this growl in her voice. “Now, both of you follow me to the principal’s office right now.”
As she marched toward the door, Chuy Gomez couldn’t help himself and shouted, “Hey, Mrs. Livermore!” She turned around and saw Chuy giving her the finger.
“You too! Join the rebels with no cause. You show the behavior of people who were raised by wolves. And you three are about to be thrown out of this educational institution.”
“The educational institution we’re so uncomfortable with?” Chuy moved toward the door. Susie broke out laughing, and I just tried to keep myself together. Mrs. Livermore marched ahead of us and we followed behind.
“They won’t throw us out,” Chuy said.
Susie rolled her eyes. “My mom and dad will be jumping down somebody’s throat in a New York minute. My parents are former hippies. They don’t put up with this crap.”
“My dad’s an activist,” Chuy said. “This is bullshit.”
“Well,” I said, “I doubt my mom will let us hang out to dry.”
Susie smiled. “Something tells me your mother would eat Mrs. Livermore for lunch.”
* * *
So there we were in the principal’s office. Mr. Robertson had a look about him that prevented him from appearing to be a professional despite the jacket and tie. He wasn’t really much of a tough guy, but when he felt cornered, he could be a hard-ass. Mrs. Livermore was pulling on her pearl necklace and fingered each pearl as if she were praying a rosary. All of us were seated, but Mrs. Livermore decided to remain standing, hovering over the rest of us. She was doing all the talking, and she was more or less succeeding in sounding reasonable and thereby making herself appear to be the victim of her cruel students who had no discipline and behaved like barbarians.
“The just thing to do would be to suspend these students. I am not a punitive person, and I will not insist that they not be allowed to graduate. This, after all, is their last chance.” Susie and I looked at each other. Mrs. Livermore clearly assumed we would not be attending college.
“But I cannot allow these students to return to my classroom. They have not only disrespected me, but they have disrespected my profession.”
Susie interrupted her. “No one disrespects your profession more than you do, Mrs. Livermore.”
She pointed at Susie. “There. See for yourself how they give themselves the freedom to say whatever they feel like saying. They have no understanding of the consequences of their actions. These three barbarians apparently have no respect for my position as a teacher, and I will never accept what this”—she pointed at Susie—“this person, this, this—I will never accept her slanders. Tell him, tell him what you said to me.”
Susie wasn’t the least bit repentant. She looked at Mr. Robertson and said, “I called her a racist bitch.”
Mr. Robertson winced.
“And it’s not slander if it’s true. I don’t know which part is truer—the racist part or the bitch part.”