The Old Brown Suitcase by Lillian Boraks-Nemetz

Author:Lillian Boraks-Nemetz [Boraks-Nemetz, Lillian]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-55380-173-3
Publisher: Ronsdale Press
Published: 1994-09-10T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 10

The Apology

(ROCKVILLE, 1947)

I HEARD THE STUDENTS running around the side of the house. It didn’t take them long to find my hiding place. A face flashed above me, and one of the boys yelled, “There she is, the little Jew-girl!”

In a moment I was surrounded by them. They stood in a circle above my head, jeering, calling me names. I looked up at their spiteful faces, and all of a sudden I wasn’t afraid anymore. What did they really know about me to criticize me? What right did they have to persecute me here in Canada?

I began to shout at them in Polish.

“You Nazis! You spoiled little brats!” I stood up in the pit, my blouse bloody from the cuts on my arm. With all the strength I could muster I yelled in English, “I am a Jew! I am a Jew! I am a Jew!”

They stood silent. Then my father came out of the house, and they all ran away.

Later, Father phoned the principal, and told him what had happened. Mr. Dunshill was outraged and asked to speak to me. After apologizing on behalf of the school, he said, “You rest up at home during the weekend and come back to school on Monday.”

On Monday morning it was as if nothing had happened. I sat at the desk with my arm bandaged up. The class avoided looking at me. Joshua was still away with his basketball team, and I felt lonelier than ever before. But when the bell rang for recess, the teacher made us all sit quietly and wait. Wait for what? I thought. Then Mr. Dunshill walked into the classroom with his cup of coffee.

“Something ugly and cruel has happened in this classroom,” he began. “You have been cruel to your classmate. You acted on prejudice and hate.”

He put down his coffee cup, and his voice rose. “This is a free land. Remember your anthem, and remember who you stand for when you sing it. In Canada, people have the right to be whoever they choose or happen to be.” He paused. There was a complete silence in the classroom. Then he resumed: “I am leaving it up to each one of you to question your own conscience. Why you acted as you did. And what you can do to make sure that such discrimination doesn’t happen again. I am leaving each and every one of you to do the right thing, to make the right decision about yourself and your actions.”

Mr. Dunshill spoke with the teacher for a moment, then picked up his coffee cup and left.

There was silence in the class, and then the students began to leave the room slowly and quietly. They still avoided eye-contact with me. I wished again that Joshua were back.

I had permission to go home for lunch. When I returned, I found an envelope lying on my desk with my name written on it. Inside was a letter:

Dear Elizabeth,

We, your classmates, want you to know how sorry we are for what has happened.

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