Real Carol Cujec (if you liked this book txt) 📖

hand on my shoulder. I heard her breathing and my lungs inhaled as much hope as they could.

I felt my finger reach for the keyboard. As I did, every creature in the Amazing Kids’ Animal Encyclopedia filled the stage with me, from aardvarks to zebras.

Page 210: Amazon parrots.

Page 23: Black bears.

Page 311: Warthogs.

I tapped one key. Then another.

“Keep going,” Ana said. “Is that the letter you want?” “What comes next?”

Page 30: Chameleons.

Page 89: Goats.

Page 212: Pelicans.

She did not hold my arm, but her spirit guided me with faith in my ability.

I do not know how much time passed.

I do not know if the audience was noisy or quiet.

Page 301: Wallabies.

Page 29: Bobcats.

Page 176: Moose.

All the world faded away. Only me and my animals facing the keyboard, tapping letter by letter, word by word until my arm lowered.

“Are you done?” Ana asked. I reached over to type one more letter: Y.

She read my words. Not perfect, but hopefully clear.

I want a rreal education so I cannn save other children who are hurting like I was. I am a vvvoice of never heard voices.

No one in the audience moved or spoke. Then Mr. Jergen stood and started to clap. He was joined by other board members and audience members, until the whole auditorium vibrated with cheers and applause. Celia came up and kissed me on the cheek. Grace ran up to us too, along with Skyler and Stuart.

Mom and Dad sat frozen in the front row with teary smiles.

Dr. Schwartz approached the podium.

“I want to thank Miss Wood for her wise words.”

She turned to Mr. Warner. “I believe some of the information I was provided on Miss Wood was incorrect. Given her statement and the tremendous support in this room, I recommend that we dismiss this complaint.”

More cheers and applause filled the room. My lips smiled—at least I think they did—and my helium heart soared to the sky.

Like Pinocchio, being loved made me real.

Mission Possible

Mom rushed to get my clothes ready for the presentation. This was our second trip to the state university. Dr. Peterman asked me to speak at a teachers’ conference about being included in regular junior high classes. No pink dresses—that was my rule. Instead, I chose black pants and a peacock blue sweater with cool leather boots. I even got dressed today with almost no help from Mom, except for sticking the earrings into my newly pierced ears—silver starfish that Stuart got me for my birthday. Actually, not fish at all, but sea stars, according to page 254.

“Here,” Mom said, “take a look at yourself, Charity.” She encouraged me over to the full-length mirror, and I stared into the looking glass.

For a decade, my own reflection made me sad. I saw myself the way the world saw me—worthless.

Today, I am beginning to like me. The real me. Okay just as I am.

Celia says anger is a prison we lock ourselves into. I am still trying to bail myself out as I forgive Darcy and Miss Marcia and everyone who caused me pain over the years. Let’s just say it’s a process.

I entered the auditorium, and Dr. Peterman gave me a warm hug. “Good to see you again, Charity. I heard your science fair project got second place. Bravo! By the way, I visited Abby at Pine Valley again last week, and she’s started typing some words now. Her mom is so grateful to you.”

Best news ever.

Because the presentation would be streamed live through the internet, I waved into the camera. I knew Skyler, Jaz, and Julian would be gathered around the big computer screen in Celia’s classroom . . . along with Isabella. Once her mom saw my picture in the local paper for topping the honor roll, she requested a transfer for Isabella. Celia, with the help of Mr. Jergen, sped up the process as a favor to me. Every morning, I got to see Isabella’s bouncing red curls in homeroom. I could not believe how far she’d come in only two months. Skyler was showing her how to draw with pastels, and the girl was a natural.

Jaz would probably be wearing her cheerleading uniform today. After Darcy left, the girls on the squad all begged Jaz to join. Jaz agreed right away, but she drew the line when Rachel invited her to sit at the cool kids’ table. “I have standards, you know,” she joked.

We did not have to worry about Darcy teasing us. She transferred to an expensive private school that overlooks the ocean. I hoped she was doing well. I really did.

As for Borden, Mom emailed the reporter a copy of my paper, and the reporter dug up even more evidence against them. Borden’s enrollment tanked after her article came out in the newspaper. Then the state suspended their license, “pending investigation.”

Will the school finally be shut down?

Probability: hopeful.

When it was time for me to present, Mom led me to the podium and squeezed my hand as she read my prepared statement. Once she was finished, I took questions. Today, there was a woman in a canary-yellow jacket who raised her hand.

“Charity, I am very moved by your story. People assumed for years that you could not learn. Then you scored in the top tier on your school’s assessment test. Do you think there are other kids like you who are left behind by being labeled with low expectations?”

Mom held my iPad so I could type. She encouraged me with each letter and word, but today, as on many days, I did not need her to support my arm. The tablet helped too by using predictive text to complete some of my words faster. My dependable pointing speed today made me feel less like a typing snail and more like a powerful punching kangaroo.

Mom read my response.

It does not matter if a test says they are smart. It matters that they are human. Believe that treasures are in all. Believe that all kids can learn. Everyone deserves to be included.

The