Aurora

A Story by Sharrumkin

A Filipina girl's first day in a Canadian school.

Aurora

In 1977 Colleen had been seventeen and in Grade Twelve in Saint Thomas District High School when she had first met a Filipina, Aurora Robles. Aurora’s father Fernando a general practitioner back in Cebu, worked as a janitor at Saint Thomas General Hospital while trying to upgrade his medical credentials to Canadian standards.

When Aurora first appeared in class she was asked by Mister Foster, their Home Form teacher, to introduce herself. Slowly, rising from her back seat she struggled to whisper her name in a thick Filipino accent. Colleen and the girls next to her began to titter. The tittering spread throughout the class. A stern look from Mister Foster kept it from growing louder. Aurora sank back into her seat. Biting her lower lip she kept her face down. Colleen, dismissing her with a shrug, concentrated on her lesson.

The class moved on to their History Lesson taught by Miss Vivian Davis, known by Colleen and her friends as Vinegar Vi. A wiry, gray haired woman wearing large black spectacles. The subject was postwar immigration. Miss Davis asked the students to write down the countries their families had come from. Colleen wrote down two, Ireland for her father’s side and Poland for her mother’s side. Thirty-two students passed pieces of paper to Miss Davis stood in front of the class the papers in her hand.

“We are all either immigrants or descended from immigrants. Even the first peoples, if you go back far enough. Imagine the first day in your new country,” said Miss Davis. “You are new. You are lost, barely capable of understanding the new language. Someone comes to you. A friend perhaps? He begins to speak. Does he hold up his hand in welcome? Probably not.”

“My father was Welsh from the coalfields of the south. He brought his family to Canada. When I was a little girl. . . “She noticed the students smiling. “Yes I was a little girl once. Other little girls would follow me singing . . . Taffy was a Welshman. Taffy was a thief.”

She read the first paper, Colleen’s paper. “Irish. Bogtrotter. Paddy. Drunkards; Thieves; Polish; Polack. Stupid; Dirty; Papists.”

She read each paper, added a time-honoured term for each nationality or race. Then she reached Aurora’s paper. She looked at the small, dark-skinned girl in the back. The students also turned. “Filipina. Your people are new in Canada, Aurora. I honestly can’t think of a derogatory word for them.”

She turned to the other students. “Perhaps it hasn’t been invented yet. Would someone like too?”

For a minute only silence could be heard.

Miss Davis crumpled the pieces of paper and tossed them into the wastepaper basket.

“We are Canadians. That is the only thing that matters. Canadians have a history of welcoming strangers. It is by these strangers that Canada was built. Welcome to Canada, Aurora.”

For the first time since coming to school, Aurora made a tentative, shy smile.

***

Aurora sat alone in the crowded dining room. Her mother had packed her a bowl of pancit, noodle stew. She sat at a table surrounded by other tables buzzing with laughter and words. No one insulted her. No one bothered her. No one joined her. Ignoring the other students she read her history text. Across from her a dining tray settled on the table. A pale hand reached out to her. She looked up to see a red haired girl smiling.

“Hi. I’m, Colleen. May I share your table?”