The school day started out like any other. I sprinted into first period almost late: French class. Then I stumbled down the crowded stairs off to choir. The usual day at choir, we sang. English came next and I slowly strolled into the class to see my friend Patrick.
“Hey Tat’yana,” Patrick smiled as he approached me.
“Hey Pat, do you know what we’re doing today?” I asked curiously.
It was the usual conversation with Pat and me at the beginning of third period. So the class went on as Mrs. K assigned our work for the day. Fourth period rolled around and that’s science class. Half way through was lunch, I bolted down to lunch to find my friends.
I saunter into the home ec room and find my seat. Today our teacher, Mrs. White assigns, and explains, our project “Feast Day.” We had to pick a plate to cook up for the class. There were rules such as: it has to have more than 6 ingredients, it had to have meaning behind it, and you had to make it yourself with little, or no, help from an adult.
Right off the bat I knew exactly what to make: my favorite Ukrainian soup, Okroshka. It was a traditional Ukrainian soup and my family always made it. It fit all the requirements and I could easily cook it myself for I always helped my mom make it since I was very little. Our assignment for the night: type up the recipe for her to check. I scurried out of the class eager to get home and start the project knowing it was going to be a good one. The rest of the day was a breeze and flew by like a shooting star.
The next morning I wake, with the feeling that the day is going to go well. Little did I know what this day would bring. I went to all my classes in as always. I entered home ec with my friends at our usual slow pace.
“Turn in your homework right here!” Mrs. White yelled for the whole class to hear.
She collected, skimmed, and handed back the recipes with either a check or a no can do. Everyone followed the requirements; until it came to me.
“I can’t accept this. You’ll have to bring something else,” Mrs. White revealed.
“May I ask why? I followed all the requirements,” I exclaimed in disbelief.
“Because people won’t eat this, its too many ingredients that kids don’t know of, so I can’t allow it,” Mrs. W explained.
I stood there in disbelief. The whole point of this project was to have a diverse variety of foods from different back rounds.
“But how will we know if no one will eat it if I can’t even bring it?” I contradicted hoping she’d change her mind. But she didn’t. Her answer was still no. So I went home pondering about how discriminating this seemed and how she had no right to tell me I couldn’t bring in my plate.
Nevertheless, the next day I came in with new life. I was determined to prove to her that I can bring my plate in and she has no reason not to let me. Which her only reason was that “my plate was too diverse.” So I went to guidance and told him the situation. He told me to just drop it and bring in something else because she was the teacher. Devastation engulfed me. I couldn’t believe what my own ears were hearing. But still I didn’t want to back down. So my mom called the school and I discussed the whole situation with the principal. To my surprise, but also to my initial thought, she sided with me.
“You are completely right. Mrs.W has no reason to deny your project; it follows all the requirements and fits perfectly into her likings,” Mrs. G, the principal declared.
“Thank you so much!” I announced happily.
I stood up for what I believed in and if it wasn’t for Mrs. W, I would never have been so strongly pushed to prove it.
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