Sister School

            They told me that I could get help at the sister school.  The sister school had special services for kids like me.  They told me that the sister school had the same classes, followed the same curriculum, and was just like the school I attended now.  The only difference was that the school was in another town, with a service that could help me.  But they told me it was my decision.  They tried desperately to get me to go to the sister school. 

I asked them how I would survive at that school without my friends.  The friends who had my back since we were in grade school.  How would I do without my friends in my classes? My friends and I would chat during lunch, work on group projects, and help each other.  What would I do at the sister school, knowing that I knew no one?  How would my friends feel if they knew I choose the sister school over them? 

What about the teachers who helped me at school?  I would never see them during the school day.  Mr. M would no longer say “hi” to me, Mrs. C would no longer tell me “good luck”, and Ms. B would no longer give me a pat on the back.  All my support would be gone. 

Why does the sister school offer a different special services?  Even though it is under the same district?  At this school I get extra time and a reader for exams, but at the sister school I could be in smaller mainstream classes and have in classroom lunch when I did not want to deal with the loud noise in the cafeteria.  Although they could help me, I could never leave my friends who were my main support.  I have difficulty talking to people and making new friends.  I would be even more depressed.

So they can keep telling me how great the program is at the sister school. How I would be better off there and that they can give me better support then here, but my answer will always be the same.  I want to stay.  I want to see my friends and teachers everyday at school because they are the ones who really help me.  

Jaelyn

            Boy, girl, boy, girl, boy, girl and so on until every student was lined up evenly in one of the many rows outside the school.  I stood tall as the teacher went up and down each row, checking student’s uniforms.  I made sure my feet were touching each other and my arms were at the side of my body.  I held my breath as one of the teachers came to me and looked at me up and down.  I stared straight into the girl’s head in front of me.  I tried not to move.  I was relieved when the teacher passed me in approval.  When the teachers were done checking students, they walked back to the front of the building. That was when Father Michael came out with his bible. 

“In the name of the father, the son, and the holy spirit,”

“Amen,” Father Michael opened his bible and started to read from the gospel.  This was a natural ritual for us, ever since the rebels took over the country five years ago.  I turned my eyes slowly to the row on my left.  Standing diagonal from me was Jaelyn.  That was her name before they changed it. 

            Seven years ago, in my kindergarten classroom I was sitting at my table eating my lunch when Jaelyn started to talk to me.  I remember she wore a Yankee baseball team shirt with the number 2 on the back, with dark blue jeans, and black sneakers.  

“I’ll trade you my Oreos for your chips,” were the first words I said to her and when she agreed I was so happy. 

“You like the Power Rangers?” she asked me and I applied with a nod and that day at recess, we pretended to be the Power Rangers.  I was the red ranger while Jaelyn decided to be the black ranger.  That day when we were playing together, we became best friends.  

“Peace be with you,”

“And with you spirit,”

“Bow down you heads for the blessing,” and we all bowed down our heads.  When Father Michael was done blessing us, the students with the best grades went up to where Father Michael was and put up our country’s flag.  The flag was white with a crucifix in the middle.  As the flag was being lifted we put our hands over our heart and started to sing our national anthem.  After the morning ceremony, we walked in row by row to our classrooms.  I was not going to see Jaelyn until lunchtime. 

            Due to the rebels fighting, the school closed down when I was about to go into the first grade.  It was too dangerous to go outside and many adults joined the cause of the rebels.  But even though the school was closed, Jaelyn and I still met.  But one day her parents were upset. 

“Do you plan to leave?” asked my mother to Jaelyn’s mother. 

“It’s not so bad.  The rebels say that if we join their cause, they will leave us alone,”

“No, they can not keep a promise like that.  You and your family must find safety,”

“The government right now will not help us and the rebels are giving us hope.  Besides, this is our home too.  My great-grandparents came here from Poland for a better life and we have always lived in this town,”

“You can be safe in Canada,”

“No, we will stay.  This is our home.  The rebels will help us.  They already promised,”

“I just don’t want to see you get hurt,” My mother and Jaelyn’s mother did not know that I was overhearing their conversation.  I did not understand back then what they were talking about but I knew that I did not want Jaelyn to leave.  That was when I placed my trust in the rebels.  But I never image what they had planned. 

            “Joseph Carter,” and I raised my hand to show my teacher that I was present.  After roll call, Mr. Hort passed out our quiz on the Ten Commandments.  We had to write them in order and then give an example about how a person could break a commandment and what would happen to them.  The answer was always the same.  If you broke one of the commandments, you could be put on trial and then be sentences to death by being stoned or hang. 

            For gym classed I had to change out my uniform, which consisted of a green tie, white shirt, black pants, and black shoes.  During certain holidays we were required to wear a purple, red, or a yellow tie.  Our ties were consistent with the Church seasons. 

            I took off my uniform and changed into my gym clothes: dark brown boots, a dark green shirt, and camouflage pants with a matching jacket. 

            I walked into the gym room and lined up with my class.  We lined up in the same order as we did in the mornings: boy, girl, boy, girl.  Our gym teacher, Sergeant Gerald took us out into the back woods for shooting practice. 

“It doesn’t matter if you are a boy or a girl, you are equal in the eyes of God.  All of you are part of his holy army,”

            We were all excited when the rebels overtook the government and the schools re-opened.  Jaelyn and I were going to start the second grade.  But unlike our past years at school, we were assigned uniforms and were given grey backpacks.  Jaelyn did not like that she could not wear her Yankee shirt on the first day of school. 

“I hate these uniforms!  Stupid ties!” I remember her saying.  I smiled with her.  We were not allowed to take off our ties but some kids on the playground did and then got in trouble.  Although Jaelyn was a girl, she had to wear the same uniform as I did:  White shirt, tie, shoes, and instead of pants, she had to wear a skirt, which of course she hated.  Then I remembered that on the first day of school Jaelyn got into huge trouble for something that was not her fault.

“What is that?” the lady asked.  I never saw her before but later I learned that her name was Sister Barbara. 

“A necklace,” Jaelyn told her.  Sister Barbara walked behind Jaelyn and took it off. 

“This necklace is forbidden in school.  I never want to see it again,” she said handing it to Jaelyn. 

“But I’ve always worn it,”

“I never want to see it again or I will throw it away!” It took me a while to get use to Jaelyn not wearing her star necklace.  Eventually, Jaelyn’s star became outlaw and illegal to display in public.  Or anywhere in the country. 

            After gym class, we changed back into our uniforms and returned to class.  After our lessons on the saints, we went to lunch.  We were not allowed to bring our own lunches because the school gave us a lunch based on a strict healthy diet. We sat with our class and we did not eat right away because we had to wait for the afternoon prayer from Father Michael.  Once the afternoon prayers were over, then we got to eat.  But we had to be very careful.  If you spilled any of the food, got anything on your shirt, slouch, slurped, or burped then a sister or a priest would hit you with their rulers.  I have marks on my back to prove how many times I got hit. 

            Recess was the only time we got to interact and play.  But it was not the same as before.  The playground is nothing but a blacktop with four old basketball hoops which are no longer in use.  The only toys we have are hula-hoops, jacks, marbles, and jump ropes.  At recess, I found Jaelyn, who was now called Elizabeth. 

“How are you Elizabeth?” I asked.

“Fine and you Joseph?”

“Okay.  Do you want to play?”

“No, I want to read my bible,” Then a group of boys asked if I wanted to play marbles with them and I agreed because I hated reading. 

“I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah,” Elizabeth replied. I knew Jaelyn was going to read the bible because if she did not, the sisters would get mad at her, along with the other children who were like Jaelyn. They all lived at the school. 

            Sister Barbara grabbed my hair one day during the middle of recess of second grade.  I was playing tag with Jaelyn and the other kids when she grabbed it.  I started to cry. 

“Your hair is too long,” she said and she dragged me to the nurse’s office. 

“What is this?” the nurse asked frighten.

“This boy needs his hair cut,” said Sister Barbara in her demanding voice.

“Then you should tell his parents to take him to a barber,”

“Cut his hair!” The nurse gave a huge sigh and took out a pair of scissors from her drawer. 

“I’m so sorry Joseph,” she whispered to me and she started to cut my hair.  She cut my hair until almost nothing was left. 

“Perfect,” said Sister Barbara with a huge smile. 

            Before school ended, we all gathered in the auditorium for Father’s Michael sermon.  It wasn’t really a sermon; it was more of a speech about sin.  Father Michael told us what sin was, and how abortion and gay marriage is a sin.  He told us how our government would save us from hell and that Jesus would save us through our leader and the Pope.  When Father Michael was done, we left row by row and went home.  At least, some of us did. 

            It happened when we were in third grade.  All the boys had their hair short, to the style of a crew cut and the girls had to tie their hairs back.  No girl could have her hair short.  The only songs on the radio were about God and Jesus.  Every class somehow was tied into religion and going to Church became mandatory on Sundays.  The local temple and mosque were closed down and demolish.  They became stores and restaurants. One store became a store devoted to the Virgin Mary. Crucifixes and the new national flag were everywhere.  New laws were passed and many were killed for not following them.  They died either by being hung or stoned.  Men and women had to wear modest clothes.  Nothing could have words or images on them.  Everyone wore the same black sneakers.  On television, the only thing you saw were cartoons about God, Jesus, Mary, and the Saints.  There were also shows dedicated to prayer and bible studies. 

            One night, I heard the police sirens and their cars driving up and down every street.  It woke everyone up, including me.  My father held his hand to his head with sadness on  his face and my mother kept repeating, “I told them so, I told them so,” and Jaelyn popped into my head. 

            Jaelyn was at school the following weak but she was different.  It wasn’t her clothes or her hair, but something about her was different. 

“Jaelyn?” I asked.

“Elizabeth.  My name is Elizabeth,”

“No it’s not.  It’s Jaelyn,”

“My name is Elizabeth,” that was when I noticed a book in her hand about Catholicism for those who converted.  When I was older, I learned that Jaelyn was taken from her home, her parents exiled to Canada, and Jaelyn was placed in the care of the sisters along with many other children.  It took me a while but I did not want to believe it.  Although Elizabeth was here, my friend Jaelyn was gone.