Yep, spring was here, and not a day too soon; and just in time for Mrs.
Haliburton to celebrate her good fortune, the fruits of hard labour over
many years. She was now Dr. Haliburton. A university in Florida had
granted her a doctorate.
People were sure to ask, how long has this been going on? why had she
kept it close to her bosom? a university in Florida?
For the moment her star was rising. Flowers were in bloom, leaves were
returning to the trees. She was ready to enjoy the days ahead when the
city of New York would learn of her accomplishment, and would view her
quite differently. As well they should.
She'd have to break the good news to the John Wayne Cotter family. She
didn't think they'd be in the mood for this kind of good news but, hey, that
was their problem.
Timing was of the essence. An announcement at the next faculty meeting
would spare her the arduous task of informing individual staff members.
Let the principal break the news! Let her wave a hand in her direction,
make every head turn, everybody applauding. Even those who hated her
would feel compelled, would feel swept up, to put their hands together
and acknowledge her achievement. Timing was so important.
In fact, timing was on her mind right at that moment. She'd received a
memo from Anemona Snow in the Guidance office. There had been an
incident. A serious incident. Please see file enclosed. This calls for "the
whole village" approach.
The more she thought about it, she was convinced Snow had slipped the
"whole village" comment in there as a snide reference to the inspirational
poster on the wall outside her office. She'd overheard one of her Guidance
cronies snickering, as they came off the elevator, and saying (seconds
before they saw her): These are her people. This is her village. Let her
handle it. It didn't need a rocket scientist to figure out what that was all
about.
As for the incident? Unsavoury business. Puberty fears, that's what it was.
Girl accuses boy of sexual harassment. More precisely, Hispanic girl
accuses black boy of sexual harassment. That was what they wanted her
to handle. With "the whole village approach". Knowing full well it was the
kind of incident most people in the village would want to hush before it
got around.
No doubt about it, this "whole village" thing was a sly… no, this was a
sneaky attempt by that crinkly white bitch Anemona Snow to disrespect
her. And ruin her good news day.
These old white women, heaven help us! with their hair spray and their
peeling tenured bodies. Certified and paid to be "counselors" for poor
black kids.
Just the other day on the first floor there was Anemona Snow speaking to
a dark-skinned chubby boy, the kind of baby-faced mischief maker who
liked fast food and rhyming with his boys in homeroom. She had him
cornered, his back was to the wall, his head lowered; and as Mrs.
Haliburton passed there was this silence ̶ she might have been waiting
for the boy to digest a piece of advice she'd just dispensed. Then she
heard Anemona Snow whisper fiercely, How dare you speak to me that
way?
Something in that whisper, a hard fury, a deep personal resentment,
made even Mrs. Haliburton wince. What had this poor boy done to deserve
this… this knee to the groin, this attempt to snap his upstart will?
Mrs. Haliburton thought of turning back to spare him further humiliation.
But the boy took the matter into his own hands, answering in a fierce
whiny voice, thefuckyoutalkin'bout? And now he was really in trouble,
speaking to her like that.
It didn't matter. This boy knew what to do; knew what to say when these
old white women who couldn't stand coarse words, loud behavior, loud
anything from students, crossed a line and messed with his young
manhood.
Good for you, young man! Time to hold your ground. Mrs. Haliburton kept
walking.
(from "Ah Mikhail, O Fidel!", a novel by N.D.Williams, 2001)
FARJOURNEY CARIBBEAN 