"Ms. Funderburk, I'm sorry I lied. I did not choose to be the maid."

I was either in fifth or sixth grade when my Academically Gifted class (AG) read Frances Hodgson Burnett’s A Little Princess.  I had passed the test to be a part of AG when I was in second grade.  For the rest of middle school, I was the only Black person in my AG class.

This particular school year, our teacher decided that we were going to put on a play of the book.  On the day that parts were assigned, I was pulled from class, for what reason I do not know.  However, upon my return, all of the parts in the play had been assigned.  It is difficult for me to recall whether it was my white female teacher or another classmate who informed me who I was playing.  But someone said to the extent of, “Ronda, you’re going to play Becky.  We thought you would like that part.” To be honest, I did not have a preference for a character choice, but when I was told Becky, something did not feel right.  In the book, Becky is the maid.  At the time, I did not process this as racism. I had a part and was fine with it.

Then, my first grade teacher, who was a Black female and was the one who recommended I be tested for AG, saw the play that we put on for our parents and school community.  During lunch one day, she found me and asked, “Did you choose to play your character?” With the way she asked the question, I knew something was wrong, and I also knew that saying "yes" would get someone in trouble.  So I lied.  I told her, “Yes, I chose that role.” 

It was not until I was in high school, reflecting back on that encounter that I realized what had actually happened with the play and with what Mrs. Funderburk had asked me.  She wanted to know if they, the white teacher and/or the white students, made me play a maid.  And suddenly it all clicked.  I was in an academically gifted class, and the white people in the room, including the teacher, could still only see me as a black servant.  I felt sick to my stomach when the blinders had been removed, and I saw the bigger, racist picture.  On top of everything else, I had lied to the only Black female teacher I had had (actually from K-12).  Mrs. Funderburk passed away not too long ago, and if I could tell her anything about who I am today, I would say, “Ms. Funderburk, I’m sorry I lied. I did not choose to be the maid.”