History was one of my favorite classes. Not because of the history but because of Travis. For every class we were supposed to read a section of our history book and then we would discuss it in class. Travis did more discussing than anyone else. He would ask all kinds of questions the teacher couldn't answer.
Like when we were studying about the civil war. We spent one whole class listening to Travis argue about how, if people have the right to choose their own government, the South had a perfect right to break off from the Union, and the North was hypocritical saying it couldn't. He said that was how the States got started in the first place, breaking away from England because they didn't like the government. He said a lot more, but that was the gist of it.
And then the next history class we were discussing why the South wanted to break off in the first place. And about slavery, and was it or wasn't it good. Travis said it wasn't right to think you could own another person and have the right to mistreat them or even kill them. The teacher said that back then, white people thought blacks were just animals, and really only whites were any good, so they despised any other race, like Chinese or Indians.
And that got Travis started on another track: the horrible way whites treated our Indians (they call them Native Americans now). The whole class got into the argument, taking sides, jumping up and shouting until the teacher had to rap his desk with a ruler and yell "Be quiet!" I could tell Travis was still stirred up, 'cause his face was red and the vein in his neck was pulsing.
I wanted to tell them that you didn't have to be an Indian or a Chinaman to be treated badly, but I didn't. The teacher gave us a new assignment, to be handed in at the end of the month. He told us to imagine we were immortal and had lived since caveman days. We had to write an essay about our beliefs as we lived through the various civilizations, from ancient times until now. We had to write about how we fit in our society, what we thought about other people in our society or outside it, and at the very end we were to explain why we felt about various races or groups the way we did. We would work on that assignment instead of having discussions in class, and we had to work on it for homework too, to be done in time. That was the stupidest assignment ever. I couldn't see the point.
"This is your fault," I grumbled to Travis.
YOU ARE READING
A Soldier's Heart
General Fiction"Travis was a soldier with heart. His love for his family, his country and his community is unquestioned. He never hesitated to put his life on the line for those he loved- and he loved many and deeply." So begins Travis Barrett's eulogy. A true her...
