I scrolled through the feed, the majority of which consisted of the following:
- Telling me that I "did disability wrong"
- Insults directed at my pedagogy methods
- Death threats directed at me and Steve (He has nothing to do with this, so why???)
- Death threats directed at my students, but mostly at Alex
- People telling me to kill myself
- Accusations of abusing my students
- Nathan saying: I'm not sure if making me play a ton of scales counts as abuse, but it certainly comes close.😛 #kidding #ClarinetCaitlin
- Steve trying to explain that I'm "just that way" and that death threats won't help anyone
- Landon usings sword emoticons and equally aggresive words to fight off the ahters
- Mark saying weird things that make no sense
- Nathan joining in the fight with this gem: @RespectAbilityMinecraft Apparently, being a kind disabled person is ableist. That frame of mind makes me really embarrassed for you guys.
As I found more and more death threats, my heart sank. I was failing my community and to set a good example for people like me. My voice broke as I read the death threats. Why does everyone want me to die? The crew looked at me semi-concernedly and continued doing their thing. The reporter asked me what I thought of the Tweets. I took a deep breath, put on my concert face, and replied.
"This is honestly rather heartbreaking. I never expected to be attacked this severely over my personality. I mean, not everyone is the assertive type and I think a community that, quote, 'promotes diversity and celebrates the abilities of all people', end quote, should be able to respect that. I was wrong. You were the ones who tore me down and threatened to kill my students." I cited something in the feed."They have, to my knowledge, done nothing to harm you, so please leave them alone. Harming my students will not do anyone any good. These Tweets hurt real people. They hurt me. They hurt my students, especially Alex, who seemed to endure the brunt of the impact. Such is the utmost act of cowardice." Mental note: Hug Alex when you see her. She'll need it. "Furthering your personal or collective values should not come at the expense of hurting other people. I hope Respect Ability Minecraft and all others who insulted me remember that." The cameras shut off.
When I made my way back to the set, I found Steve waiting for me.
"I thought you were working with those students who needed help with embouchure."
"I was." Three middle school students carrying a trumpets and a trombone followed. The trombonist was dressed like Steve in a cyan T shirt and blue jeans. She propelled herself in a green wheelchair and held her trombone in such a way that did not impede her movement or endanger her instrument. (And I think it's hard with a cane and a horn!" The trumpeters looked around as if to say 'Where are we?'. All of us followed Steve into a room that he apparently used for practice. Every sound reverberated off the walls. He told the students to take out their method books and work on lip slurs and chromatic scales. The chromatic scales were terrible, which is to be expected from middle school brass players. One of the trumpeters spoke up.
"We don't play chromatic scales in band."
"Do it. You will be better." Steve was insistent on the chromatic scales. "Half tempo." The trombonist's technique evened out so that she was not using flailing motions to move the slide. The trumpeters' fingers were smoother. Everything began to fall into place. "Little faster." He continued with the scales.
Eventually, he got bored and shoved the baton into my hand. Feeling I didn't deserve it, I began to protest. Steve ran off before I could give it back to him, though. Really, dude? I decided to run more lip slurs with them. Since I could tell they worked hard on lip slurs and chromatic scales for three hours straight, so I let them end their practice by having a snack. In this time, I learned the students' names. The trumpeters were Michael and DJ. The trombonist was Emily, but went by Em. Em stopped me during the break, presumably to ask a question.
"You know what? I really like you. It's my mom saying those nasty things, but I don't agree with her at all. You're amazing." I blushed and looked at her, slightly taken aback. "I mean, you're one of the most resilient people out there! You faced the cameras even with all the hate out there. I could never do that."
"Thank you. I was just doing my duty as a public figure."
"But our public figures don't always do their duty." That was true. "Anyway, I'm a big fan. My mom got into Respect Ability because of me, but it's not being very respectful to you. Thanks for being brave." Em went on to join Michael and DJ to play phone games.
My phone buzzed. Alisha called to come pick me up and take me for coffee. She came in with this charismatic aura that turned heads and a sense of importance that only comes with true confidence. When she spotted me, she made her way over to me and pulled her wine red lips into a smile.
"There you are!" Alisha waited for me. "I've been waiting forever." Tears started welling up. I was weak. It was true. I never really had the guts to do anything for myself. I tried to hold them back. I couldn't be seen like this. Not now. I took a deep breath, put on my concert face again.
"Is there a way to deal with the death threats towards my students?" Even if it cost me my life, I wanted my students to be safe from the hatred should it escalate beyond the Internet.
"We're already taking care of it, sister. Alex will be accompanied by four armed guards on her school to home route. The others get two. Alex gets four because she received 90% of the death threats. Nathan will be taking band at Mindcrack and Alice's employer has arranged for her to work fewer night shifts alone." Imagine the look on Steve's face when he sees that!. Still, it hurt that the conflict escalated to the point that my students needed guards.
"What about Carmen?" Her school doesn't allow armed guards.
"They made an exception in the policy." Alisha turned towards me. "You know, it takes a lot of guts to be kind and gentle. Cruelty is something to expect from the weak." We made our way to the coffee shop with that. I love the smell of coffee, but not the taste. I ordered my usual hot chocolate: brewed at 140 with whole milk and whip. Alisha got something I couldn't recognize, but I could tell it was her usual choice. She ordered a basket of macarons for the both of us and we sat down at a nearby table and told me what each flavor was. I plucked a vanilla macaron from the basket and nibbled it.
It had a taste reminiscent of birthday cake, something Alex would like. Knowing that Alex loves sweets, I saved one of every flavor for her.
"You guys will be trying on bridesmaids' dresses. I was thinking either diamond blue because it matches the decorations or lavender because it's my favorite color."
"I think you should put your maid of honor in lavender and the rest of us in diamond blue. Alex should wear something similar to your dress."
"That's a good idea. Speaking of that, will you be my maid of honor?"
"Yes!" We continued eating and sipping our drinks until we decided to go. I made my way to the restroom. Unfortunately, there were a lot of people in line. The line slowly inched forward at an agonizingly slow pace. Person after person entered a stall. Someone asked why I hadn't gone yet. I said I was waiting for the big one. After this, she called me a faker seeing that I had no assistive device by my side. Someone rushed into the accessible stall with the agility of a track athlete after that, but I reminded myself that clothes can conceal a multitude of things.
When that person exited, I made my way inside, but I was too late. I felt something moving down my legs and saw the puddle collecting at my feet. It kept coming out. I heard people sneer in disgust as they walked by me. I couldn't move; shame had me in its grip. The tears I held back started spilling from my eyes one by one. I was again reduced to nothing. Everything on the Twitter feed rang through my head.
I exited the stall in tears. Everyone could see the stain judging by their whispered comments. The whispers gradually crescendoed into outright shouts. Noticing me, Alisha bent down and wiped my tears like the older sister I wished she was. She held me close. Every animosity I had ever nourished towards her vanished. She gave me a new pair of pants and told me to change.
"How did you..?"
"I just know. Now pick our dresses already!"
After slipping into the new pants, we set out to the dress shop. Emmeline and Alex were waiting for us. Marcinia came in followed by a camera crew after a parkour match. The Skellies had won, it looked like, judging by the gold medal around her neck. Matilda, one of the orchestra flutists whom I had grown fond of, arrived with her flute case in tow. She probably just got back from a gig. Again, Arlene, my consultant, met us with her familiar smile. I told Arlene my, well Alisha's, idea and she went along with it.
The first round of dresses were high-necked, floor-length dresses. Alisha came out looking uncomfortable. I can tell lavender isn't her color. Emmeline looked self-conscious. My bridal party is not going to lack confidence on the big day. The second round of dresses was much better, but Emmeline still looked uneasy about it. They were tea length and flared out at the waist. Okay, time for another round. With the third round of dresses, I allowed some flexibility. Matilda, Marcinia, and Emmeline could choose anything as long as it was diamond blue and at least ankle length. Alisha came out in an obsidian purple dress with sequins all over it. She looked elegant and imposing, like a queen. Emmeline followed looking almost equally regal in the halter-style dress she chose. Matilda chose something more conservative while Marcinia decided to go for something more fun.
"Are you okay with that? I mean, you shouldn't really upstage the bride. It looks like it's black, too. That represents death." Matilda noted Alisha's wardrobe choice.
"Of course. I'm sick of the spotlight anyway." With the dresses chosen, Alex sat patiently and asked where hers was. I pulled out a box and revealed a small, voluminous dress with pearl detailing at the waist. Alex lit up with joy and embraced me in a hug. She tried it on, joined everyone else, and I took a picture of them. Everyone changed back into their normal clothes after that.
Handing Alex the bag of macarons, we hugged again. Alex seemed reluctant to part from me. I saw tears start to stream down her face.
"Why does everyone hate me?"
"Who could possibly do that?"
"Those people on Twitter all want me to die. Maybe I should." Those last three words pierced my heart to the core. When I have a tough time, I think of Alex and her hopeful smile. I think of her desire to sing. It was that hopeful mindset that kept me going.
"No, you should not. Ignore them." I kept holding Alex. I quoted my sister. "Cruelty is to be expected from the weak."
"You're always so wise, Miss Caitlin." Alex gave me one last embrace and parted with me. Her contagious glow faded after she left. I was only left with a sensation of emptiness. Knowing that she would be going back out there to face the hatred of the world left an ache in my heart. At least her father would be there. In his heart of stone is a soft spot for Alex. I don't think I'll quite ever be able to get their words out of my head, but what else can I expect from the weak?
"You know what? I really like you. It's my mom saying those nasty things, but I don't agree with her at all. You're amazing." I blushed and looked at her, slightly taken aback. "I mean, you're one of the most resilient people out there! You faced the cameras even with all the hate out there. I could never do that."
"Thank you. I was just doing my duty as a public figure."
"But our public figures don't always do their duty." That was true. "Anyway, I'm a big fan. My mom got into Respect Ability because of me, but it's not being very respectful to you. Thanks for being brave." Em went on to join Michael and DJ to play phone games.
My phone buzzed. Alisha called to come pick me up and take me for coffee. She came in with this charismatic aura that turned heads and a sense of importance that only comes with true confidence. When she spotted me, she made her way over to me and pulled her wine red lips into a smile.
"There you are!" Alisha waited for me. "I've been waiting forever." Tears started welling up. I was weak. It was true. I never really had the guts to do anything for myself. I tried to hold them back. I couldn't be seen like this. Not now. I took a deep breath, put on my concert face again.
"Is there a way to deal with the death threats towards my students?" Even if it cost me my life, I wanted my students to be safe from the hatred should it escalate beyond the Internet.
"We're already taking care of it, sister. Alex will be accompanied by four armed guards on her school to home route. The others get two. Alex gets four because she received 90% of the death threats. Nathan will be taking band at Mindcrack and Alice's employer has arranged for her to work fewer night shifts alone." Imagine the look on Steve's face when he sees that!. Still, it hurt that the conflict escalated to the point that my students needed guards.
"What about Carmen?" Her school doesn't allow armed guards.
"They made an exception in the policy." Alisha turned towards me. "You know, it takes a lot of guts to be kind and gentle. Cruelty is something to expect from the weak." We made our way to the coffee shop with that. I love the smell of coffee, but not the taste. I ordered my usual hot chocolate: brewed at 140 with whole milk and whip. Alisha got something I couldn't recognize, but I could tell it was her usual choice. She ordered a basket of macarons for the both of us and we sat down at a nearby table and told me what each flavor was. I plucked a vanilla macaron from the basket and nibbled it.
It had a taste reminiscent of birthday cake, something Alex would like. Knowing that Alex loves sweets, I saved one of every flavor for her.
"You guys will be trying on bridesmaids' dresses. I was thinking either diamond blue because it matches the decorations or lavender because it's my favorite color."
"I think you should put your maid of honor in lavender and the rest of us in diamond blue. Alex should wear something similar to your dress."
"That's a good idea. Speaking of that, will you be my maid of honor?"
"Yes!" We continued eating and sipping our drinks until we decided to go. I made my way to the restroom. Unfortunately, there were a lot of people in line. The line slowly inched forward at an agonizingly slow pace. Person after person entered a stall. Someone asked why I hadn't gone yet. I said I was waiting for the big one. After this, she called me a faker seeing that I had no assistive device by my side. Someone rushed into the accessible stall with the agility of a track athlete after that, but I reminded myself that clothes can conceal a multitude of things.
When that person exited, I made my way inside, but I was too late. I felt something moving down my legs and saw the puddle collecting at my feet. It kept coming out. I heard people sneer in disgust as they walked by me. I couldn't move; shame had me in its grip. The tears I held back started spilling from my eyes one by one. I was again reduced to nothing. Everything on the Twitter feed rang through my head.
I exited the stall in tears. Everyone could see the stain judging by their whispered comments. The whispers gradually crescendoed into outright shouts. Noticing me, Alisha bent down and wiped my tears like the older sister I wished she was. She held me close. Every animosity I had ever nourished towards her vanished. She gave me a new pair of pants and told me to change.
"How did you..?"
"I just know. Now pick our dresses already!"
After slipping into the new pants, we set out to the dress shop. Emmeline and Alex were waiting for us. Marcinia came in followed by a camera crew after a parkour match. The Skellies had won, it looked like, judging by the gold medal around her neck. Matilda, one of the orchestra flutists whom I had grown fond of, arrived with her flute case in tow. She probably just got back from a gig. Again, Arlene, my consultant, met us with her familiar smile. I told Arlene my, well Alisha's, idea and she went along with it.
The first round of dresses were high-necked, floor-length dresses. Alisha came out looking uncomfortable. I can tell lavender isn't her color. Emmeline looked self-conscious. My bridal party is not going to lack confidence on the big day. The second round of dresses was much better, but Emmeline still looked uneasy about it. They were tea length and flared out at the waist. Okay, time for another round. With the third round of dresses, I allowed some flexibility. Matilda, Marcinia, and Emmeline could choose anything as long as it was diamond blue and at least ankle length. Alisha came out in an obsidian purple dress with sequins all over it. She looked elegant and imposing, like a queen. Emmeline followed looking almost equally regal in the halter-style dress she chose. Matilda chose something more conservative while Marcinia decided to go for something more fun.
"Are you okay with that? I mean, you shouldn't really upstage the bride. It looks like it's black, too. That represents death." Matilda noted Alisha's wardrobe choice.
"Of course. I'm sick of the spotlight anyway." With the dresses chosen, Alex sat patiently and asked where hers was. I pulled out a box and revealed a small, voluminous dress with pearl detailing at the waist. Alex lit up with joy and embraced me in a hug. She tried it on, joined everyone else, and I took a picture of them. Everyone changed back into their normal clothes after that.
Handing Alex the bag of macarons, we hugged again. Alex seemed reluctant to part from me. I saw tears start to stream down her face.
"Why does everyone hate me?"
"Who could possibly do that?"
"Those people on Twitter all want me to die. Maybe I should." Those last three words pierced my heart to the core. When I have a tough time, I think of Alex and her hopeful smile. I think of her desire to sing. It was that hopeful mindset that kept me going.
"No, you should not. Ignore them." I kept holding Alex. I quoted my sister. "Cruelty is to be expected from the weak."
"You're always so wise, Miss Caitlin." Alex gave me one last embrace and parted with me. Her contagious glow faded after she left. I was only left with a sensation of emptiness. Knowing that she would be going back out there to face the hatred of the world left an ache in my heart. At least her father would be there. In his heart of stone is a soft spot for Alex. I don't think I'll quite ever be able to get their words out of my head, but what else can I expect from the weak?
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