Unknown and Unknowable

Ch3: More Tiger than Lily

Amora Hayes was not a simple woman, not a petite, easy going flower kind of gal. No, no Amora was something else entirely, a mountain of a woman, attitude of a honey badger, and the mouth of sailor. The long-standing human rights activist Amora Hayes, the woman that would lead the art of transfiguration into a new golden age, has become a teacher at Riverside Highschool. Too many this has been a disappointment, too others a blessing. Why a blessing you say? Simply put, because today is the first day of school and Cinna Martins is late to school. Godspeed Cinna, Godspeed.
***
From the parking lot of Riverside High, a faint rattling huffing can be heard, the huffing slowly getting softer as the bike riding youth slows down to catch their breath, parking their bike.

"I ...made it... Phew" I say proud of my endurance and surprising athletici-, a bell rings loudly from the school cutting my celebration short. I'm late, pout a little bit at the sound of that terribly loud bell, and wall through the glistening doors or Riverside high. As I walk in I'm greeted by a stubby little man with one of those little safety jackets on, all bright orange and highlighter yellow. Besides that, blaring and hideous thing covering his chest, he appearance seems quite mute in comparison, dull browns upon boring blues. A stubby little nose and face marked far spread moles and dirty brown freckles, it may sound mean but Mr. -, I look at his name tag, Charles here wears it well along with his brown Beatles cut. He emits a low grumble, "Alright then, what's your there? Won't hold ya long, seeing as yer late an' all."
I look him in the eyes, they're almost sparkling, yet they seem so very bored. "Cinna Martins" He pulls out a notebook and opens it up. Before I know it, he's flipping through the pages lightning fast, wind flapping up to my face. The notebook unfurls, revealing a second bigger notebook from within it. There's no way he could have hidden that anywhere, what did Mr. Charles do before working here, pull rabbits out of hats? "Birds, it was doves kid, doves was were it was at. I'm not seeing a Cinna Martins here, but I've got a Lo-" I cringe at that first syllable. "Understood, alright transfer, you're gonna be Transfiguration and Reformative history for your first period. Here's a map of the school with your classes on it. Best get to stepping kid, you're in with fire cracker herself." He snickers to himself, and waddles over to a podium I didn't notice in the hall before. Charles didn't say it, I can respect that, with this in mind, I waddle away myself.

"Who can tell me about white flight? We're right by an area highly affected by it actually." Amora looks over her new students, they might not now it, but she's excited for them. The things they learn this semester will carry them for the rest of their lives, carry them from carrying on the lies of the forefathers. Change starts with them; this she believes wholeheartedly. A beefy kid in the back with the word "pigskin boys" tattooed on his bicep yells from the back abrasively, "it's not like we can really fly right, why wasn't I told about this?!" Half of the class laughs as the newest addition of the class walks through the door.

"Now Mr. Andrews, I'll have you know you that yes you can indeed fly. In a world of aeroplanes and magic your response shows just how little you care. Sadly, in my class you're not warranted the right of ignorance, see me after class." The stern lady, my new teacher Ms. Hayes stares me down after berating the beef stick boy. "I assume you're the Martins kid, may I know your name and pronouns?" I recoil in shock no teacher has ever asked that question to me before, "Cinna Martins, They/them ma'am!" I tell out of surprise. Lovely, she/her/hers Amora Hayes in the flesh, you're late, but you'll be excused if you can explain to me the concept of 'white flight.'" She smirks knowingly, like she asked the right person on the right day, and to her credit, she did. I start speaking, and I let go, letting what I know takeover.

"White Flight is the name of not only an effect but an event in the 1950s to 60s with lasting affects now. Black families and other ethnic groups started noticing how certain areas of the country were booming, and they were seeking jobs and housing in the area, due to the influx of ethnic peoples, the white people that were there up and left. With the white people went the white money, the problem presented by this was that government were making assisted loving complexes as we now call them or 'projects' to house the influx of people coming. Because of the sudden lack of money coming into those areas, the projects were never finished. Now thousands of Americans live in unfinished housing because of the white people leaving, which can only be explained by racism, they just didn't want to be around us I guess." I fold my arms over each other, speaking frankly like that, it always makes me feel so vulnerable, nothing feels so dangerous as other people knowing how you feel.

"Good job kid, any questions?" A couple of hands shoot up, "Great, because that's just the beginning and throughout this class you'll learn many things just like that, from the history your parents don't want to talk about to the deeper arts of the world, and that was just scratching the surface." Ms. Hayes walks over to her desk, sits down and draws an apple out. Within seconds she's thrown it into the air, and when it touches her hand again, it starts slowly morphing. First the stem folds out into a little black pyramid, followed by some flowing wings of white, and then the body, and what was left was an elegant dove. "Take a seat Cinna, class is starting, and close your mouth. I'm sorry no one prepared you for the rude awakening. Welcome to the world of the Magus." I was feeling shocked I thought when they said transfiguration was in the class name, that they were bullshitting. In mere minutes this teacher has both validated me and shaken everything I thought I knew this morning. In mere seconds, she added variables to my equation, and she's right, to solve my problem, I'll need to plop down in my seat near the back of the class.