The next morning, I meet Rachel by our tree and tell her everything about what happened. She listens to my every word, completely absorbed by my little adventure. “A freedom fighter meeting! Oh, I should have known. My parents have been talking about going to those for a while. I’ll try to ask them about it tonight. How did your parents feel about you missing school?” I tell her about how upset my mother got and how my father banned me from going to any more meetings. I tell her how I had to go to my room without dinner. She offers me some of her lunch if I am hungry, but I politely refuse. “So, you aren’t going to any more meetings?” asks Rachel. “No,” I say, “No, I love my parents, but I have to go to those meetings. I’ll just have to figure out a way to go without them knowing.” “Are you sure that’s a good idea? What are they going to do if they find out?” “I just don't know any other way. I want to be part of what that meeting was talking about yesterday. I am just going to try to find out as much as possible. If I get in trouble, I get in trouble. But I will try to be careful” “What are we going to do now?” “I think we should just take things one step at a time. We are small, but I think we can make a difference, right?” “Right.” We walk in silence for a few minutes. We pass the church and Rachel heads to school. I must continue my walk alone. I get to school five minutes early. All my classmates ask me where I was yesterday, but I really didn’t want to explain to every single person where I went, so I keep my answers very vague. In class, I go up to my teacher Mrs. Moore and told her why I was absent yesterday. She seems very interested when I told her I was at a freedom fighter meeting. “What made you decide to go over to that meeting, Sheyann?” “The group looked different and it sparked my interest. Can you tell me more about what is going on right now? I want to learn about activism. Can you teach me?” Mrs. Moore looks at me for a long moment. Then she tells me, “I need to see you after school to discuss the work you missed. I have called your parents telling them that I will be keeping you late. Perhaps we will be able to talk about other things if you are prepared for that. One more thing, try not to discuss the meeting with your other classmates. I don’t want you to get in any more trouble, alright?” “Yes, thank you, Mrs. Moore,” I say, “I really appreciate it.” I take my seat as the other kids come into class. Mrs. Moore starts off the class just like any other day, but today is in no way normal for me. I am so excited about getting more information that I have a tough time focusing. My mind drifts to the meeting yesterday I remember how happy I was, with all those people who looked so different but seemed so united by their purpose. And now I can learn more about what that purpose is! Mrs. Moore can tell me more about what is really happening in the world right now! What if Mrs. Moore is a freedom fighter in disguise? Rachel said her parents knew about these civil rights activists. I wonder if… “Sheyann!” I snap back to attention. Mrs. Moore and the entire class are looking at me. I must have been asked a question while I was zoning out. “Yes, Mrs. Moore?” I ask sheepishly. “I asked you what the answer of six times three is.” “Oh,’ I say, as I flip to my multiplication chart. “Is it 18?” “Yes, very good. Only next time, only look at your chart as a last resort, alright?” “Yes, Ma’am,” I say quietly. I’m able to pay more attention in class. I copy down all our spelling words, and I made sure to ask questions about our math homework. When the bell rings, everyone packs up and leaves class except me. Mrs. Moore signals me to come up to her desk and hands me a stack of papers. “Since you missed the entire day yesterday, I have a lot of extra homework for you. We went over a lot of this today, but there are instructions on how to do it in the homework if you forget. I want you to work on this tonight, and turn it in tomorrow. Do you have any questions?” Although the amount of homework was a bit overwhelming, the material seems easy enough. “No, Ma’am,” I say. “Great. So, if you don’t have any questions, I will see you tomorrow then.” She looks away from me and down at some worksheets and began grading them. “Wait, Mrs. Moore,” I say, “I have a question, but it is not about the homework.” She looks up from her paper and smiles. “Ah, yes. You wanted to know more about the civil rights movement happening right now, huh?” “Yes. My parents won’t tell me anything, and we both want to learn more about what it is about.” I say. “Well, first, I would like to tell you that I do believe that we deserve equality in our voting rights. Other people may have different viewpoints, and even if you don't agree with them, you need to respect and listen to them. If your parents don’t approve of you going to the meetings, then I do not think you should go. However, I do think that it is important for you to know what is going on in the world right now.” I take a seat in the front row and listen eagerly to what she is saying. “Right, so a person who is a freedom fighter is a person who campaigns or fights for political or social change. A civil rights activist is someone who fights to secure equal opportunities to groups in the minority. Basically, right now it is very difficult for people of color to vote.” She then explains to me about voting registration. How voting registration offices were only open once every other week, and how you would have to miss work to go over there. Those who worked for a white employer had a very hard time missing work because if they did not have permission to leave, they could be fired just for missing one day. “Most white employers did not give permission to leave work either because if word got out that they let someone leave, or they did not fire them, the employers would most likely be driven out of business through the White Citizens Council.” “The Citizens Council are the people who think that we are less than them, and they want to keep us from our rights and will use almost any means necessary to keep us separate, right?” I ask. “Pretty much. They are a group of people who don’t believe we deserve to be heard, and they have become very violent lately, to ensure we don't have a voice. However, there will always be people to stand in the way of change. We have to make sure we do not let them triumph over us, but we also need to be careful.” She looks at me seriously before moving on. “Now, on some registration days, officers will hang around the office to intimidate those of us trying to vote. They might arrest you on some phony charge just to keep you from going into the building. If you make it into the building, the clerks usually make fun of you for being there” She tells me how people then had to fill out a four-page long application form, which was basically there just to intimidate voters more. “You had to fill the entire thing our truthfully, or you will be under penalty of perjury. The worst part about that for is that it is usually passed on to groups like the White Citizens Council and KKK, so now these people who are not afraid to kill you have your personal information.” She also explains that in some counties, in order to register you had to have someone vouch that you were fit to vote. “This means that even if you pass all of the tests, you still might not be accepted just because no one can vouch for you. In communities where there are no colored voters, it was basically impossible to register “You are also required to take a literacy test. Now, there are several versions out there, so that everyone can be assigned one at random to make it impossible to cheat. Unfortunately, it seems that whenever a colored person tries to register they receive the hardest version of the test. “Then your test and application were reviewed by three members of the Board of Registrars. They had to decide if you were qualified to vote. It is up to them to decide whether you pass. “Your name is also published in the paper to let your employers and bankers and everyone else know what you were trying to do. The entire process was meant to intimidate you to into withdrawing your application. And with the WCC having your information, they would also try to make you give up, using any means necessary.” I cling to her every word. Since Mom and Dad refuse to register, this is the first time I am hearing all the difficulties there are to vote. “The civil rights activists just want registration to vote to be equal for both black and white people. We should not have to fear for our lives just to have a voice in this country. That is what we are fighting for. Our freedom of speech. Our right to live.” I sit in silence for a few minutes, processing all the information I just heard. I really couldn’t believe it. The system could not be that unfair, could it? Part of me is shocked that the world is really like that. “Now, I know this information is hard for you to process,” Mrs. Moore says carefully, “So I want you to go home, do your work, and get some rest. Alright?” “Yes Mrs. Moore,” I say. I grab my things and walk out the door. As I walk back home, the weight of what I learned truly sets in. I was told to be careful, but I was never told why. With groups like the WCC and KKK out there, I know the reason. And not to mention everyone working with the law to ensure we fail.