Fighter in Velvet Gloves by Annie Boochever

Fighter in Velvet Gloves by Annie Boochever

Author:Annie Boochever
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781602233713
Publisher: University of Alaska Press


14

Carefully Chosen Words

At the end of debate on a bill, it was the custom in the legislature for the Senate president to ask if anyone else wanted to speak. When Senator Edward D. Coffey stood and made that invitation, few in the crowd expected anyone to respond, certainly not the Alaska Native woman with the knitting in her lap. But in the end, Elizabeth was the only one who stepped forward.

Elizabeth took a deep breath. She felt she was ready, but would her words have any effect? She looked at Lori and thought about what kind of life her daughter would have with those ugly signs plastered around town. She thought of the birth mother she never knew, and of her dear adoptive mother, and prickled at the racism they surely must have suffered. She thought of her adoptive father, Andrew, and about how kind he was and how powerful his sermons had been. Words were the tools that had served her all her life, and she and Roy Sr. had spent hours thinking about just the right ones for this occasion. Now was the time.

Elizabeth Peratrovich stood and was acknowledged by the senator. Thirty-three years old and classically styled in white velvet gloves, matching hat, and an olive-green dress, Elizabeth walked slowly down the aisle with her head held high. As she turned to face the assembled legislators, the audience strained forward, pulled by her calm but powerful presence.

If anyone in the room thought the young woman before them would mince her words, they quickly realized their mistake.

“I would not have expected,” she began, “that I, who am barely out of savagery, would have to remind gentlemen with five thousand years of recorded civilization behind them of our Bill of Rights.” Elizabeth continued in a voice that grew steadier and even more intent. “When my husband and I came to Juneau and sought a home in a nice neighborhood where our children could play happily with our neighbors’ children, we found such a house and had arranged to lease it. When the owners learned that we were Indians, they said no. Would we be compelled to live in the slums?”



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