I’m not a story teller. I don’t even know when or where this one started. I can’t even tell you how or if it’s ended. What I can tell you is when I became part of it. I can tell you what I saw, and where I think it started. I don’t know if that will help you, but it’s all I can tell you.
The story I know starts with a group of dreamers. They wanted to change the world but didn’t know any better. They wanted to undo the world of their parents and make a different one. One they thought was equal and fair. They never realized one truth of the world. They were just like their parents.
They never realized their world was different from the rest of ours. They didn’t know they were on their own island apart from the rest of us. How could they? It’s the only place they’d ever known. They didn’t know they had to leave it to really understand. They didn’t know how to leave it. If they did, they never wanted to.
Instead they thought they could change the world by talking about it. They watched it, they debated, they wrote about it. They thought they were preparing for the days when they inherited their parentis world. When they were satisfied they knew everything they needed they met in groups, they threw parties to show they understood what needed to change.
They had two rules; “all are welcome, all are equal.” It sounded pretty, but they missed something. They didn’t know how to listen, they never had to before. When they asked the people serving food and taking coats what they thought, they didn’t hear anything. They didn’t hear the fear, the anger, and resentment. They didn’t hear about the hunger, and the cold at night. They just heard the words that fit their own.
It never seemed odd that those people were serving instead of eating. It never occurred to them those people weren’t part of their world. They never thought to open their doors to the gutters. To actually see how and where those serving food and taking coats lived.
I was there the first night. I wasn’t a guest in grey. Not really. I wasn’t part of their world. I wasn’t a servant in black and white, but I should have been. I was just a stupid girl from the gutters that wanted to be wrong.