By Elizabeth Tang Grade 6
I never dreamed of being seen.
The indifferent gaze of others and their constant negation left me breathless. Piles of homework were placed on the table, and snowflakes stuck to the window. Winter—originally a season of “slumber”—was a time when I didn’t know I was about to “wake up.”
Our school always had different gossip and stories happening every day, although they were never about me—a student who was perfectly ordinary, just like Jane Eyre. The focus of the teachers and classmates was always the pretty girls, like Xena, or kind and helpful boys, like Aron, or even my table mate, Cici, who was the cleverest and loveliest girl in the class.
I dreamed of being a person like them—just for once. But this little dream was a bit too hard for me.
Until that day. During the winter festival preparations, our teacher proposed that the school would let one student from our class participate in the singing and dancing show. As soon as the words were spoken, everyone looked at Xena and Cici admiringly, and sighed: “I guess you will be the one.” But the teacher said: “The music teacher told me that Beth’s voice is lovely, so she will be the student to sing on the stage.” When I heard my name, I was dazed and looked up at the teacher in disbelief. Xena even screamed, “What?!” Some of the students stared at me and said, “She?!” At that moment, I just wanted to stand up and shout, “Please, I don’t want to attend this show!” However, the teacher didn’t give me time to express my opinion. “Stop talking now, boys and girls. I know Beth will seize the opportunity, right?” As the teacher looked at me trustingly, I swallowed my rebellion.
When the class was over, I saw Xena walk over to my table angrily. She bumped into my chair roughly and stared at me for a while as if she were going to swallow me alive.
Luckily, my table mate Cici was really a kind person. She offered a few words of comfort: “Hey, I believe you. I know you really want to prove yourself; you just need a chance to tell yourself that you are good enough. Do you know Jane Eyre? She’s an ordinary person, but she proved the worth of all women!” I nodded. Jane Eyre was my favorite book. The heroine, Jane Eyre, was so similar to me—being marginalized and dismissed.
“Then just try it your best!” Cici laughed. Thanks to her comfort, I thought: “Maybe I am ready to be the protagonist.”
But the reality was harder than I expected. The students who attended the show all knew each other; they were all “good students” in the teachers’ eyes. Girls and boys chatted together, and no one noticed me.
During one singing practice, the teacher let us sing one by one. When my voice came out, everyone was surprised, and I made many friends. I thought I was finally known and accepted by people.
Well, I was too childish. That day when I came back to class, I saw Xena talking to my new friends: “Beth is weak; I know she is going to fail.” And my new friends laughed around her, saying: “I didn’t even know her!”
I cried.
I was so sad and angry that I didn’t know how to describe it. But as I wept, I thought of Jane Eyre. She was misunderstood and looked down upon, yet she never let others define her. I realized that those new friends had only built a temporary castle for me. Even if I now knew it was false, it had already served its purpose—it had woken me up. I didn’t need their castle anymore, because the confidence was now inside me.
Even if Jane Eyre didn’t meet Helen or Rochester, she would grow up too.
That day of the winter festival, I stood on the stage with confidence. On that stage, under the bright lights, I didn’t need their fragile castle of words anymore. I built my own fortress of confidence. Everyone was proud of me. Even Xena said I looked pretty on stage, though I thought it was fake.
The cold snow outside the window seemed to melt away under the stage lights. The Jane Eyre in my heart woke up in that winter.
