Two little Hmong girls rode the bus home as always. But it was not an ordinary day. Because of a route change, they were not on their usual bus.
Short, petite, and awfully shy the two sisters sat motionless and stared out the window.
Wild afterschool children filled the bus. Chaos ensued. The driver was distraught over changes.
Behind the girls sat two blond boys about the same age but bigger in size. They were wrestling with each other. Occasionally they would hit the seat in front of them. Though the girls could feel the thumps they didn't dare say a word. They didn't want to draw any attention to themselves. The restless boys didn't mean them any harm. Wait long enough and the problem will go away.
The bus pulled away from school. The motion settled some kids down but not all.
One of the boys kicked the back of the girls' seat. Then just as suddenly, he started stomping. The older sister leaned forward. Her little sister kept leaning back and was continually jolted. Little sister was too dumb to lean forward as she was. Every time they thought the boys were done, it would start again. The bus driver was oblivious.
The situation was determined intentional. When the boys started pulling her little sister's hair, an uncontrollable surge of courage engulfed her. She could no longer contain her feelings. For the first time in her life she lost control. She stood up and yelled, "Stop it!"
They laughed at her.
As soon as she sat down it continued. A pause, then the hardest stomp ever. It almost threw her off her seat. Immediately she stood up and looked the boy sitting directly behind her straight in the eyes with fury.
He called her, "Chinese! What are you going to do about it?" He too stood up to meet her glare. Fear was not present. No one was withdrawing. A slapping match began. The bus driver was not looking. The other boy just looked on. When satisfied, they retreated.
Her heart beats were incredibly loud and fierce. Her blood hot. Her breathing intense. She was shaking. It was over.
The bus came to a stop. She had never seen him before in her life but had encountered many of his type. Had she known when he was getting off, maybe she would have been at the ready. The boy slapped her up side the head then ran off the bus. Oh, this made her blood boil. He must have wanted to die. If she ever saw him again he was going to get it. Who did he think he was? What rights did he have, that they did not? Who was in the wrong? She would never see him again, probably.
It was a worthy fight. He might think he won but she knew he had not. The next time he encountered someone smaller than he, of the opposite sex, or a different ethnicity... he will know he can't treat them how ever he wants and get away with it. For this, she did not regret a thing. Her arms might be red and stinging, her hands sore, angry, but she protected her little sister while teaching this boy a lesson. No regret.
~ A Hmong Girl and her little sister
