Pride Vs Prejudice

We walked into the room.

With my parents on either side, we entered a dull looking air conditioned room. Quite like the physician’s office, except with lots of cabinets & trophies and shields adorning the walls. She was a grim faced woman and it clearly looked like it wasn't a good time to be seeing her. But this meeting couldn't be postponed, we'd been preparing since weeks.

My parents had been shooting questions at me and my 5 year old self answering- colors, days of the week, months of the year, Hindi, English, spelling and what not. There'll be people asking me all these things and I needed to show them I was smart and good enough to study in their school.  

“Be nice to her, smile and answer her questions”, mum said. So I smiled at the woman- the smile was not returned. Strike One.

I took a seat next to the woman and my parents sat opposite to her. She was going through my papers, drawing and the extensive files Australian Schools make. Certificates- including my Guest of Honor Certificates that I won for music. Twice.

Still no smile she started talking to my parents. I don't remember what exactly they were talking about, just that she was doing most of the talking (quite loudly) while my parents listened, not looking very happy.                     

Strike Two.

 I zoned out of their conversation and started looking at the things on her desk- the colorful paper-weights, the stack of files, the magnetic pin cushion and started thinking about going to school here. Would I like it? It was an uncomfortable thought. I was lurched out of my dream with a stern question. “Fine, Spell ‘Tree’”.  

My parents were looking at me and so was the woman. Suddenly, I was in the spotlight. Mrs. Grim Face had a deadpan expression on her face. “Spell ‘Tree’ ”, she said again. It didn't feel right. Why should I answer to her? She wasn't even being nice. But my Grandma told me to be respectful to others, especially elders, even if they're being mean to you.

So I started. “T….R….E…” And stopped there.

The room was tense. My parents' eyes were as wide as golf balls. I could actually hear my mom shouting in her head “THERE’S ANOTHER ‘E’!!! T…R…E…E!! YOU KNOW THE SPELLING!  SAY IT…. SAYYYY ITTTT!”.

“Again”, commanded the woman.

I just knew. I did not want to go to this school. I didn't see myself in this atmosphere with a person who didn't like me very much. If I get through this interview, I would have no choice. 

I looked in her eyes and with a firm voice said, “T…R...E.”  

My parents were miserable. I felt bad for them, I almost did say out the ‘E’. Of course I knew the spelling. I didn't want her to know.

“She can’t spell. Not even a simple word”, concluded the woman. “I’m sorry”. There was more talking. It didn't matter. The woman was rude to me and my parents. A five year old understood that. I was done. 

As we left the room, I was dreaming of the ice cream that I was promised. My parents were in shock and were wondering where they went wrong in my upbringing .

I didn't care. Strike Three. She was out. 

P.S. : It worked out for me pretty well. I got into a better school- where the Principal was really nice. And an even better school after that. #DipsiteForLife
 So trust your instincts... you may be right afterall :)