NightjohnEssayAsiaKE09

Paulsen, Gary. Nightjohn. Bantam Doubleday Dell: Asia K. New York, 1993. Earth 3/4/09 “Ahem! Miss Jaye, can you PLEASE tell me what the word ‘right’ means to you?” My eyes shot open. I had dozed off during Mr. Stanley’s English class. Embarrassment rushed in my veins. It felt as if all of everyone’s eyes were searing into my back like burning bullets. “Well, Mr. Stanley. T-to me I-I think that the word ‘right’ means…” sweat started to collect on the hairs on the back of my freckled neck. I wasn’t good at speaking aloud, especially when it came to my own opinion. I continued to struggle to spill out my thoughts. “Uh, I guess it just means that you’re able to do something because the law allows you to.” I said. Mr. Stanley just stared, unimpressed. “Miss Jaye, I don’t think you understand the meaning of my class,” his eyes narrowed, “to pass, you can’t just say what you think is the easier answer. I need to know how strong you are in opinion. Let us start over; I’ll make it a little easier. Hmmmm, how about this: Back then, slaves weren’t able to be educated. But now, obviously, that’s changed. Do you think it is a ‘right’ that we all can be educated?” My heart raced. How was I supposed to answer this? The easiest thing to do was just think back to my knowledge of slavery. But all I knew was the little information they teach in schools. Then suddenly, memories started to divert into horrid scenes. Almost like I was someone else… “Anne! Anne what in the hell are you doing!?” I looked back. All I saw was a shadow behind me, and then I was yanked up by my arm. Burning pain surged though my muscle and I could’ve sworn he ripped it off. My hands were covered in dirt, and I could see a whole bunch small words scrawled under a bush. I knew I was screwed, I just knew it. But was it //really// me who was screwed? My skin was a little darker than usual, and it’s scorching outside. Some weird old guy is the one carrying me; no I’m sorry, dragging me. Then it hit me, //I// was a slave! Unless I was becoming insane, this was the only other thing that could be happening. Then the guy pushed me to the ground and spit in my face. “What do you think you were doing over there? Huh? By the looks of it, YOU WAS WRITING! Now see, you done got me mad. Y'all know that YOU AIN'T SUPPOSED TO BE LEARNIN' NOTHIN'! The ones that don't listen to what I say get punished. Oh yeah, they get punished. A nasty smile formed on his crooked face. I cringed. "But sweetie, I’m not going to punish you, I’m going to get the one who’s been teachin’!” his accent was putrid southern. His words oozed out of his mouth like toxic waste. What have I (or she) gotten myself (or herself into)? Suddenly, a wave of anger came about. “My name AIN’T sweetie, it’s Soleil! SOLEIL!” Control wavered in my soul, and then I knew, all control, all hope…was gone. Three blows from the pointed toe of the man’s boot and I was unable to breathe. All I heard was yelling, but I didn’t understand the words. I was soon lifted and hung up by my arms in chains. The one that was yanked felt even worse than before, but no one could help me. I knew that. Sixteen lashes of the whip and I’m delirious. But one goes wrong and slices through my right cheek. The force of the cattle hide whip jerks my head back. My skull feels beat in and blood stains my dress and the dirt below. “All I wanted to do was read…” then everything went black. “MISS JAYE! Do I need to send you to the nurse? Answer my question PLEASE!” I thought Mr. Stanley’s eyes were going to pop out. Then I realized I wasn’t so nervous. I guess I caught Soleil’s attitude. “To me, a right is not a privilege; a right is not a chance. It’s something that someone can express for themselves. Like education, anybody can learn to read or write, because it leads to a better life. Back then, education was the same, but it was the slaves who weren’t allowed to be educated. They didn’t have the ‘right’ to lead a better life for themselves. To think that people were killed or beaten to the point that they couldn’t move because of //this//…it’s horrible. But they changed it for me, for you, and for everyone. Right: a just claim or title, whether legal, prescriptive, or moral. That’s my answer.” Mr. Stanley is stunned beyond words. I grinned an unlikely grin, “Thanks Soleil.” I whispered to myself.