And We Are Heroes

1.4 ; maria

"The boys and girls in the clique. The awful names that they stick. You're never gonna fit in much, kid."
chapter i ; part iv

"Proud of you, honey," Mrs. Guzman said, swinging her arm over Maria's shoulders. "Tell that pasty moron."
"Mom," Maria said, "I'm suspended."
"My ancestors were killed and infected with smallpox for standing up. A short suspension is no big deal."
Maria's mother opened the door to her workplace, a government building in the heart of Bayview, California. The door was glass, tinted black, and read Jaimie Chan, 54th Congressional District formal gold lettering.
"Okay," she said, smoothing her black pencil skirt. "In. Don't make any noise. Ms. Chan has an important vote coming up and we don't want her to take the wrong side."
"Wrong side of what?"
"Shh. You'll see."
Inside, the office bustled with government employees answering phone calls, setting up agendas, and organizing events. The desks were all cherry wood, with black metal trays and leather office chairs. The staff were all dressed formally, in business suits or blouse-and-skirt ensembles that matched that of Mrs. Guzman. In the far back of the office was a hallway, which was oddly empty amid all the chaos of the front room.
"Conference room! Now!" a secretary bellowed, and everyone dropped what they were doing to rush down the hallway and funnel into a side door.
Mrs. Guzman pulled Maria's sleeve. "Come on."
Maria fell in line, hoping she didn't stand out too much with her red skinny jeans and white band tee. The conference room was starkly different from the main room, with its elegant glass table and ornate wallpapered walls. A woman sat at the head of the table, several neat binders spread in front of her. She had on a crimson scarf and a black suit that must've been all the rage in the eighties. Her hair was a black bob that almost screamed "politician."
"Order, order," Ms. Jaimie Chan said, tossing out the words like tissues drifting in the wind. Everyone found a seat immediately, Maria in a second-class plastic chair that nestled against the wall. Her mother sat primly next to her, a clipboard and pen poised in hand.
"Vogel? Read the minutes," Ms. Chan said.
The frazzled secretary stood up and did so. Maria didn't understand a bit of it, which disappointed her.
"Alright," Ms. Chan continued, "Onto the first order of business. Any reasonable objections to a negative ballot for Proposition 44?"
Ten hands shot in the air, Mrs. Guzman's included. Maria had no idea what Proposition 44 was.
"Rodney."
"We need more casinos? Ma'am?"
"You can't be serious. Singh."
"I think that after all Americans have done to them, ma'am, they deserve more of their rightful land."
"We've already discussed this. Please. Any other good objections?" She glanced at Mrs. Guzman, seemed to consider calling on her, and then became distracted by Maria's presence.
"You," she said, almost accusingly, in her wispy voice. "You don't work for me."
"This is my daughter," Mrs. Guzman said apologetically. "I had no choice but to bring her today."
"Why?" Ms. Chan probed.
Maria's mother sighed, as though debating whether to say. It seemed that though Maria's actions had been pride-worthy earlier, now her situation was an embarrassment. "She was suspended. Ma'am."
"Tell me, miniature Guzman, why you were suspended from your educational institution."
"I punched a boy," Maria said, trying to sound defiant. "He insulted my race."
Ms. Chan eyed Mrs. Guzman. "And you are of Ohlone heritage, are you not?"
Maria hated the way the district representative phrased the question. She could never tell which response was the correct answer. "Um... yes?"
"Don't say 'um.' Now, tell me, what did the boy say to you that made him deserving of a physical attack?"
"He used a racial slur, generalized all Native Americans and Mexicans as illegal aliens and anti-American, and said we should abolish all Reservations because Native Americans are all 'lazy Amish savages.' "
The entire room gasped but for Ms. Chan and Mrs. Guzman, whose pink face showed her deep discomfort with the situation.
Ms. Chan was silent for a moment, chewing her burgundy-painted lips, and considered Maria. Then she announced, "That is, by far, the best objection I've heard by far this evening."
The intern named Rodney, who'd raised his hand earlier, raised it again. "What is? Ma'am?"
"I'm going to vote a negative ballot because it's about time we showed racist white people that other people deserve rights and equal treatment as well."