Picture Perfect

Chapter Four: Elliot

The parent swelled with outrage and started to speak, but was overruled by the panel as they had a strict 'hand in the air' policy for speakers. Sensing a full-on fight was brewing, they moved onto physical education and sports, which Victoria had strong opinions on, and so I didn't raise my hand to try and make sure she wasn't fighting me to be heard.

Of course, they didn't acknowledge her once, choosing men over her. I was two seconds away from loudly commenting so, when she stood up and cleared her throat loudly. Victoria's throat-clearing skills were legendary; she could silence a room of six-year-olds in the midst of even the most spirited of food fights if necessary.

"Victoria Green, from Smithfield Primary," she announced, when everyone turned to look at her. "I would like to note that eighteen of the previous twenty speakers have been male, and you have purposefully overlooked women who have been waiting to speak patiently for an hour."

Boy, the panel did not like that being pointed out.

"Mrs Green," one of them began.

"Miss," she corrected, smiling with an ice-cold look in her eyes. I almost felt sorry for them. Almost, but not quite, because they sucked.

"Miss Green," he amended. "We must hear from all voices, you see-"

"I agree," she replied coldly. "And I would personally like to hear from the women. Don't even get me started on the fact that eighty percent of the people in this room are white."

I hadn't even noticed that. Victoria was right; the room was predominantly white people, and nearly all the people of colour were men. She was one of only two black women in the room. I winced; I hadn't noticed, because I was a white man, no matter how much I liked to think I was a good ally.

"Mrs Green," the man began again.

"Miss," I corrected him loudly. "It's Miss Green."

He glared at me, probably angry that someone he personally viewed to be like himself was arguing. "Very well. What is your view on physical education?"

Victoria launched immediately into a very well-reasoned argument in favour of physical education. She encouraged our headmistress, Ros, to do twice as many P.E. lessons as was recommended by the official guidelines. My students were allotted twice as many, as I believed she was correct; kids needed outlets for energy, physical games that helped them develop their motor skills and drive their focus. Victoria included references to studies, theories of physical development, and the happiness of children.

"We shall take it under advisement," was all she got in response.

I huffed, but she took it gracefully and sat down, happy with having been able to deliver her speech. Afterwards, when I was thoroughly pissed off by most of the people in the room, I apologised to her for being so blind to her predicament in such a meeting.

Victoria waved a dismissive hand. "It's alright."

"It's not," I said firmly.

"Well, no, it's not," she acknowledged. "But you're learning. I imagine it's hard to see through the eyes of a black woman when you're a white man. You're trying, though, which means a lot."

I cringed at the concession. "I'll try harder. I promise."

She smiled. "Plus, my speech did what I wanted it to."

I frowned. "They barely listened."

Victoria shrugged. "It wasn't for them, I knew they wouldn't listen. But I saw some of the teachers nodding, agreeing with me. If they take it to their schools and advocate for more physical education, then I've made a difference, no matter how small. That matters to me."

I took that in, and nodded. "You're right. If even one kid is helped by it, it's worth it."

She smiled and said, "Exactly."

I thought about her daughter, a sweet and studious girl in Year Five. "Your kid is lucky to have a mum like you, you know."

Victoria grinned. "I know. And your future kids will be lucky, too."

That gave me a jolt through the heart. I wanted kids, and I did hope I would be a good father when the time came. I'd always pictured kids as a distant future, something that would happen when it happened. Now, it felt suddenly too far away, like something I was trying to grab hold of before it vanished.

Maybe I wanted it to happen a bit quicker than I'd realised.

*****

Elliot: I think I want kids

Pumpkin: *disgruntled noise*

Elliot: Okay, MORE kids