shall not be named—has confessed to me that you did indeed leave the girls alone, and it was when they were in the company of young gentlemen. ”
“I did no such thing!” I thought back to the day, retracing our movements. “Well, I did leave the girls for a brief time to post a letter. It was only a few minutes, Miss Crenshaw. They hadn’t even moved when I returned.”
She stared at me for a moment. “Miss McClure, I am at fault for not making something clear about this school. Propriety is of the utmost importance. Do you think Indian girls need not worry about their reputations? They must worry about them even more than white girls! If they are seen alone in the company of young men, they could be ruined by gossip. In turn, the reputation of this school could be damaged beyond repair. The parents of these girls have placed great trust in me to protect their daughters. I shall not allow a teacher to undermine this!”
Every fiber of my being longed to tell her she was being ridiculous, but that would not be playing the part of a teacher. Willie might throw a fit, but Miss McClure must be passive and repentant. So I bowed my head. “Of course not, Miss Crenshaw. It will not happen again.”
She did not speak, but her foot tapped softly.
I looked up and widened my eyes in hopes of appearing deeply contrite. “I am so very sorry, miss.”
“I accept your apology.” Her mouth tightened into a dour smile. “Tomorrow we will have a church service in the chapel. Many of the girls will be there, but some are allowed to attend services in town if they are chaperoned by a teacher. I think it is best that you attend the service here at the school.”
“I understand.”
“Good night, then.”
Once the door had shut behind her, I kicked it … gently. I’d left those girls for mere moments! Nothing could have happened in such a brief time. Miss Crenshaw was a silly old crow for squawking over nothing.
And who’d snitched on me? It had to be Fannie. I’d spoken sharply to her more than once, and for all her simpering refinement, she could not accept my reprimands with grace.
She was out to get me now, I was sure of it.
I steeled myself for bad behavior from Fannie in the days that followed, but after flashing me a triumphant look the morning after my chastisement, she turned distracted rather than vengeful. The senior class continued to be a trial, but as long as I played dagger-eyed Miss Kirtley and gave them loads of written work, the days were manageable.
Assigning compositions in class freed me from actually having to talk to the students. The only problem was that written work required marking, and rather than face the fact that I had no idea how to properly evaluate their work, I allowed the papers to pile on my desk. I was in dire need of some spine-bracing advice from Olivia Adair. Unfortunately, she seemed less than inclined to talk to me.
Olivia was polite enough when I met her in the corridors, but she maintained the chilly reserve that began with our disagreement. The other teachers I learned to recognize, to greet in the corridors and exchange pleasantries with, but I did not find them kindred spirits. Their severe hair and spectacles intimidated me, as did their private jests and insiders’ knowledge of the school and community. They were free enough with advice but not with friendship. I did not wish to admit my weaknesses to them.
I was alone. It wasn’t a new feeling, but that didn’t make it easier to endure. I’d never had bosom friends at school, but there had been kind teachers who took an interest in my progress. There’d been servants who thanked me for helping with their work. At the seminary I had no one.
One September night, a storm swept in, and the howling wind and thunder kept me awake for hours. Finally, I dreamed of water and mermaids with dark, streaming hair. Their black eyes were wide and curiously empty, and their hands reached out to me with long, spidery
“I did no such thing!” I thought back to the day, retracing our movements. “Well, I did leave the girls for a brief time to post a letter. It was only a few minutes, Miss Crenshaw. They hadn’t even moved when I returned.”
She stared at me for a moment. “Miss McClure, I am at fault for not making something clear about this school. Propriety is of the utmost importance. Do you think Indian girls need not worry about their reputations? They must worry about them even more than white girls! If they are seen alone in the company of young men, they could be ruined by gossip. In turn, the reputation of this school could be damaged beyond repair. The parents of these girls have placed great trust in me to protect their daughters. I shall not allow a teacher to undermine this!”
Every fiber of my being longed to tell her she was being ridiculous, but that would not be playing the part of a teacher. Willie might throw a fit, but Miss McClure must be passive and repentant. So I bowed my head. “Of course not, Miss Crenshaw. It will not happen again.”
She did not speak, but her foot tapped softly.
I looked up and widened my eyes in hopes of appearing deeply contrite. “I am so very sorry, miss.”
“I accept your apology.” Her mouth tightened into a dour smile. “Tomorrow we will have a church service in the chapel. Many of the girls will be there, but some are allowed to attend services in town if they are chaperoned by a teacher. I think it is best that you attend the service here at the school.”
“I understand.”
“Good night, then.”
Once the door had shut behind her, I kicked it … gently. I’d left those girls for mere moments! Nothing could have happened in such a brief time. Miss Crenshaw was a silly old crow for squawking over nothing.
And who’d snitched on me? It had to be Fannie. I’d spoken sharply to her more than once, and for all her simpering refinement, she could not accept my reprimands with grace.
She was out to get me now, I was sure of it.
I steeled myself for bad behavior from Fannie in the days that followed, but after flashing me a triumphant look the morning after my chastisement, she turned distracted rather than vengeful. The senior class continued to be a trial, but as long as I played dagger-eyed Miss Kirtley and gave them loads of written work, the days were manageable.
Assigning compositions in class freed me from actually having to talk to the students. The only problem was that written work required marking, and rather than face the fact that I had no idea how to properly evaluate their work, I allowed the papers to pile on my desk. I was in dire need of some spine-bracing advice from Olivia Adair. Unfortunately, she seemed less than inclined to talk to me.
Olivia was polite enough when I met her in the corridors, but she maintained the chilly reserve that began with our disagreement. The other teachers I learned to recognize, to greet in the corridors and exchange pleasantries with, but I did not find them kindred spirits. Their severe hair and spectacles intimidated me, as did their private jests and insiders’ knowledge of the school and community. They were free enough with advice but not with friendship. I did not wish to admit my weaknesses to them.
I was alone. It wasn’t a new feeling, but that didn’t make it easier to endure. I’d never had bosom friends at school, but there had been kind teachers who took an interest in my progress. There’d been servants who thanked me for helping with their work. At the seminary I had no one.
One September night, a storm swept in, and the howling wind and thunder kept me awake for hours. Finally, I dreamed of water and mermaids with dark, streaming hair. Their black eyes were wide and curiously empty, and their hands reached out to me with long, spidery
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