If there was one thing Keagan Stills had heard time and time again, it was resigned reluctance to allowing her to be involved in something. Sure, she could come to the sleepover. Sure, she could be on our soccer team. Sure, she could get a job with the network too. All her life Keagan had been the odd one out, and now, sitting here and watching Michelle so easily become friends with the makeup girl and the puppet maker on the show, she could feel it happening once again. And she knew why. She knew why even if they didn't know why.
Because she was black. She was certain this time it wasn't intentional, it was simply innate for white folks to exclude her because society has told them it's okay to do so. That didn't mean it didn't hurt like hell though. Suddenly she heard someone shuffle up behind her and seat themselves beside her. She stopped eating her yogurt and turned to look at Beatrice, who was sitting next to her now. "Hey," Keagan said, and Bea smiled warmly. "Hello Keagan," she said, unfurling her paper bag to gather her lunch from, "how are you today?" "...you're a human, right?" "So they tell me." "Why are interpersonal relationships so much harder to maintain than simple conversations with strangers? Wouldn't it be the opposite way? Shouldn't it be that, over time, as you get closer to someone, you wouldn't have to work that hard for things to be good between you?" Keagan asked as Beatrice opened a small plastic container and started eating apple slices and cheese. Keagan couldn't help but chuckle at her lunch. She even ate like the demographic she made the show for. "Let me ask you a question," Beatrice said, "let's say you rent an apartment, and you never have to worry about it because you know it's just a temporary domicile, right? Eventually you move into a real home, and that requires constant upkeep, but at least you know it's yours, and something to be proud to have. Which one is more worth the effort?" "In this economy?" Keagan asked, making Bea laugh as she continued, "The house, I guess." "Exactly," Beatrice said, "sure it takes more effort, more work, but its something worthwhile. Sure, we'd all love to just have things so good we can take them for granted all the time, but that just isn't how things work, sadly. Some things, most things arguably, take a lot of work, or at the very least, the bare minimum of work." Keagan looked back at the table where Eliza, Clara and Michelle were eating lunch together and laughing. She sighed and stood up, tossing her empty yogurt container in the trashcan before looking at Bea. "You might be right, but the effort shouldn't always fall on me," Keagan said before turning and heading back inside to her office. Bea watched her go, then glanced to the table she had been looking at, and she understood. *** "My dad said I can't be friends with you anymore," the boy said in the school library, "I shouldn't even be talking to you right now." "Why not?" Keagan asked, standing there somewhat in shock as she asked, "we...we've been friends since 4th grade! Why is it a problem now?!" The boy sighed, looked around, then leaned in and lowered his voice, saying, "he says it's because you're black." It had always been because she was black. Her skin color had always been the sole determining factor in either her exclusion or inclusion. She was either the token black child at birthday parties or she wasn't invited because she was black. It never failed. Depending on what district the school she currently attended had been in, she was either held up as an example of excellency, or ignored because they didn't want black students to be equals, even though she'd always been the best student at all her schools. "They're intimidated," her father had once told her, "they're scared of you because they know you're so capable, and thusly capable of making their own children look as dumb as they actually are." But Keagan didn't care about the reasoning, she wanted friends, not adversaries, and certainly didn't want the adversaries she had to be the parents of the very kids she wanted to be friends with. It was one thing for a peer not to like her, that she could take, but an adult who'd never met her? To dislike her purely because of the color of her skin? That sickened her. Which is why, when Keagan was finally hired by the fast food place and started working with Lexi, she was surprised at how welcoming Lexi had been, and why, when she and Michelle had finally met, she was surprised at how kind Michelle had actually been, and suddenly it all made sense. Hatred was taught, not innate. Those kids had been taught to dislike her, and these women were grown ass adults who knew better. Which is what made her accidental exclusion from the current group hurt even all that much more. *** "I'd like to do a show on racism," Keagan said, sitting with Beatrice, Michelle, Eliza, Stephanie and Leslie in Steph's office. "...well, that's an admirable concept, certainly, and one that's rife for discussion amongst kids," Stephanie said, "but how would that work?" "I was thinking that Eliza could make a puppet and I could voice it, and we could base the entire episode around a black woman who's moved into the neighborhood because she felt she didn't belong anywhere else, and learns through Beatrice and her friends that she belongs just as much as anyone else," Keagan said. "I could make you a puppet," Eliza said softly. "Tackling big subjects like this on childrens shows is often good for notoriety, it could get some pundits discussing us," Stephanie said. "I don't wanna do it for the acknowledgement, I wanna do it because it's right," Keagan said, and Beatrice smiled. She knew this girl reminded her of herself, and know she knew why. She had the same moral compass that Bea herself had once had in her fiery youth. "I'm definitely on board," Leslie said, "I think children who learn about things at an early age are far more understanding than if they are taught after prejudices have already begun to form. I think Keagan has the right idea, and I think we should support her on this. After all, isn't the whole idea of having a platform to use it for the betterment on mankind? To push progressiveness forward?" Keagan couldn't help but smile. Sure a lot of it sounded performative, but she knew Leslie's heart was in the right place. Michelle finally spoke up. "I think it's a good idea too," she said, "I'm not black, but I experienced a lot of prejudice myself thanks to my health issues. Growing up was hell, with kids making fun of my inability to breath properly. I know it isn't the same, but I feel like it's in the general ballpark at least." Steph chewed on the cap to her pen, then shrugged. "Alright, if this is what you wanna do, let's do it," she said. Out in the hall, as everyone dispersed and Eliza went to go start work on the puppet, Keagan stopped Michelle in front of the snack machine, grabbing her by the shoulder. Michelle continued to push quarters into the machine as she smiled at her friend. "Thank you," Keagan said. "Hey," Michelle said, "We wouldn't even be here if it weren't for you reaching out to me. Honestly, you have just as much control here as anyone." "Sure doesn't feel like it. Every day you and the other girls all eat lunch together and...I just...I don't feel welcome or comfortable joining you, and it isn't because of you guys, but because I've been conditioned to believe I don't belong in your white circle. That isn't fair, to you or me. I wanna make this episode so that other little black girls don't grow up feeling as left out, ignored or outright hated as I did when I was their age. So they can turn on the TV, see someone who looks like them being accepted, and think 'yeah, I DO deserve that kind of humanity and kindness', not because someone decided they did, but because they actually do, because they're human." "I understand," Michelle said, grabbing her candy bar from the drop tray and unwrapping it, breaking it in half and sharing it with Keagan as they walked down the hall, each eating their pieces; Michelle pushed her hair from her face, and said, "I'll never know what you went through, my reasons for being hated are far different from yours. Racial hatred and disability hatred are two very different things, even if they are part of the same general sphere, but I want you to know you're not alone, and that I'm your friend." "I know I'm not alone, and I know you're my friend. It's just that my whole adolescence I had to put up with either being the perfect African American child at my school, or that African American child at my school. Anytime I would go into a new school, it'd start all over again. Am I an example this time, or a target? Same thing with trying to find work. Do they really want me to work with them because they believe in my skillset, or because I make their progressive ideals look realistic? Am I simply a marketing tool used to portray the companies forward thinking diversity? It's so hard to separate all that and come away with an identity that isn't wrapped up in my skin color. And that isn't to say that I'm not proud to be black, because I am, I'm very happy with who I am, but...but I'd be lying if I said the perception others have of me because of my blackness hasn't damaged my self worth a bit." Michelle stopped and leaned against a wall, finishing her half of the candy bar and wiping her mouth on her sleeve. She then exhaled deeply and spoke again. "When I was 12, I was invited to a birthday party. I was thrilled, because I never got to go to parties. I just didn't have friends, really. But when I got there, I discovered I was early and nobody else had shown up yet. They'd told me to actually come a few hours before the party started, because they wanted to use my oxygen tank to fill up their balloons." "Jesus," Keagan said, sounding genuinely disgusted. "After that, I didn't go to any other parties, even on the rare chance I was invited to one. And that one? I didn't stay. I mean, I stayed, but I stayed in the garage where nobody could see me," Michelle said, "Everyone who's labeled different by society has these kinds of stories. Stories where our difference is met with either indifference or outright disdain, and that's why I wanna make your episode, because, yeah, no child should have to feel like they don't belong simply because they're different in some way. Children, more than anyone else, should feel they have the right to exist and be treated as equals. When I was in the hospital, I watched a lot of Beatrice on the hospital TV, and it was what comforted me. I want it to comfort others now too, and that's what Bea wants as well." Keagan smiled and hugged Michelle, who happily hugged her back. "Thank you," Keagan whispered. "You're my best friend, Keagan," Michelle said, "I know we haven't spent much time together lately, but that doesn't change the fact that you're my best friend." From down the hall, near the water fountains, Bea stood and watched. Suddenly a cactus puppet popped out from around the corner and looked at her, and she looked at it and scoffed joyfully. "Boy you really are the thing that brings others together, ain'tcha?" Liam asked in his puppet voice, before appearing beside her. "Sometimes I think about the fact that the show was used to primarily promote a pizzeria, and I get angry," Bea said, "but then I see these girls work together, believe in what they're doing, and I realize there was purpose within that promotion. Maybe what we did wasn't all bad after all." "That's the spirit," Liam said, patting her on the back before walking off to the set, leaving Beatrice there to think. *** "How was work?" Keagan's father, Mitchell, asked as he came into the kitchen. Keagan had been spending more time at her parents lately, and she'd enjoyed his company. She was waiting for Lexi to get out of class for the evening so they could go to dinner, so she was doing some inventory work in the meantime. "I got the network to listen to my idea, and agree with me," Keagan said as Mitchell opened up the fridge and too out a can of root beer, then grabbed another for his daughter. He slid it across the table to her before seating himself and popping the top of his can. "Really? Well good on you, then! I always told you you could make people do whatever you wanted," Mitchell said. Keagan put her pen down on top of her calculator and grabbed the soda. She popped the top open, took a few sips, then looked at her father as she pulled her bushy hair back into a big ponytail and tied it up. She sighed and smiled. "Dad, when you were a kid, did you get picked last for stuff, or not invited to things because you were black?" she asked. "All the damn time," Mitchell said, "but you know, the funny thing about that is how it made me see myself. Sure, I couldn't let it hurt my self worth, slaughter my self esteem, but I just told myself I was too cool for them, and really, they were the ones missing out. I know girls have it harder, so that probably wouldn't have worked for you, but I always thought that about you. Whenever you'd come home crying about not being included in this or that, I just thought to myself "man, what a badass I'm raising" because not only did you let others see how it affected you, being open with your feelings, but you soldiered and and became better than them anyway." Keagan blushed and took another long sip of her drink before they heard the front door open and her mother, Lauren, come in with Lexi right behind her. "She was at the front door," Lauren said, "Poor girl couldn't knock cause her hands were so damn full." "I'm so sorry," Keagan said, standing up and helping Lexi put her things on the kitchen table. "What are you guys talking about?" Lexi asked, tossing her blonde hair out of her face as she started to sit down and take a few sips from Keagan's can. "Just how cool it is to raise a kid," Mitchell said, "and what a cool kid we raised." He then stood up and escorted Lauren out of the room, leaving Keagan and Lexi together. Once they were sure the room was empty, Keagan grabbed Lexi by the shoulders and kissed her deeply, surprising her. Lexi didn't mind though, and happily kissed her back. The girls didn't know it, but Mitchell and Lauren were watching just outside of view, and smiling as they started to head up the stairs to their bedroom. "She didn't need to be included in anything," Mitchell said, "She gets more tail than all those stupid white boys who made her feel bad ever do." "You're just jealous," Lauren said. "I can't be jealous, not being married to you. How could I possibly have gotten anyone better?" Mitchell asked, making Lauren laugh as he kissed her cheek. That's the thing about being a black sheep, Keagan would think later that night, while watching Lexi sleep, basking in the warm blue glow of the television light...you might not belong to the flock, but there's a lot of other black sheep out there who are more than happy to have you. You just gotta find 'em.
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Beatrice Beagle follows a young woman obsessed with a defunct pizzeria and kids show featuring a dog mascot. As she uncovers more about its mysterious past, she becomes sucked into the life of the woman who played the mascot, they both discover just how much they need eachother. Archives
April 2024
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