Page 2 of His Human Rebel

This has got to be the weirdest moment of my life.

Also, I did not choose to come here. I was forced onto the transporter disk and told I was leaving with a heavy dose of good riddance.

Awful. That was obviously a moment I will never forget.

I take a drink and nibble on the meat stick, which is very yummy. Then I glance around again, trying to guess the time of day. If this were a normal workday, I’d be back on New Earth finishing a math lesson and readying my young students for recess.

Because I was a teacher.

I was respected and cherished by the parents at my school who knew I adored their children as much as they did. I won Teacher of the Year last year for the entire county. And now I’ve been fired and there’s probably a substitute trying to muddle through the day without lesson plans? That sickening feeling returns to the pit of my stomach. The principal must be freaking out and working hard to hire a replacement mid-year, which is going to be a mess.

I sniff at the warmth behind my eyes and the clog at the back of my throat. I miss my classroom, my students and my coworkers and feel terrible knowing those kids are going to lose out on instruction because of what happened. I started the school year with the expectation of being there until the end of the year, not leaving suddenly with chaos in my wake.

I wipe at my tears, take another bite of food and gulp down more water.

But…it’s true that I was also a well-known, rebellious agent for change within the community. I’ve always meant well, working hard for justice and equality but…I suppose my sometimes over the top actions over the years finally came back to bite me in the butt.

I’ve always been this way.

Back in high school and college I volunteered my time with local organizations and worked on voter registration campaigns. If there was a march for women’s rights or a cause for children and families I could champion, I was there, ready to chain myself to the front doors of town hall if necessary.

My mother wanted me to calm down. She said I was the type who’d eventually take things too far and I’d be happier if I mellowed out, focused on my own life and no one else’s.

But I get antsy at the thought of women and children suffering from blatant unfairness or outright criminality. How can I live my life while others suffer?

I need to be the change I want to see in the world.

If not me, then who?

Despite my inner rebelliousness, once I left university and started my teaching career, I kept these two parts of my life strictly divided. I never brought any of my outside activities into my instruction, never hinted for a moment to any of the students, staff or parents about my stance on issues within the community. I taught the adopted curriculum and only introduced books to students that were straight from the school’s library.

I worked my ass off and volunteered extra hours tutoring.

Except…

Well, I did join the county women’s organization. And maybe I started the local chapter. And yes, maybe during every single summer vacation I might’ve started a sit-in, a march or a write-in campaign. What else was I to do when I discovered this community was a patriarchal theocracy that oppressed women and children? I didn't think it was right that they could decide who you could marry or that birth control was illegal.

Unacceptable.

I take another bite of the tasty meat stick.

I was born and raised in a large city on New Earth but was enticed to take a teaching job on a farming community. Why did I stay in such a job, after I discovered the laws and culture were not a good fit for me?

I actually liked living there. There are so many people who are wonderful and kind and I really wanted to help the children have a better future. Maybe I saw it as a place that needed someone like me, an agent of change.

It drives me crazy, but there are still lots of communities out in the middle of nowhere, where women are treated as second-class citizens. They force girls into marriage way too young and refuse to allow women any positions of power within the community. Some even deny women an education and don’t allow them out of the house, and they're able to do this with impunity because they live so remotely, no one knows.

Where I’d lived and worked was not the worst offender by any means, but they needed a lot of updating. I was hoping to make a difference in the laws, fighting for women to have the freedom to make their own decisions about their lives and their bodies. And instead, I got swept up in those very same antiquated laws and here I am, on an entirely different world.

I always remained respectful and professional because I wanted to make sure the town council would listen to me and that would only happen if I didn’t go too far. Plus, I needed to keep my high-paying job, which included a free apartment.

Despite my best intentions, though, everyone was disgruntled with my last stunt.

A group of us walked into town hall during lunch hour for a stealth demonstration, which was supposed to include a flood of pamphlets on a few desks.

How was I to know when I tripped while inside the mayor’s office, that I’d accidentally splash permanent red paint all over his desk? I didn’t even know I’d brought red paint in my bag. I’m still confused how that even happened. I offered to clean it up, but apparently I’d ruined so much furniture and flooring, the office had to be remodeled.

Oops.

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