* I will use Jane Pittman and The Autobiography of Miss Jane Pittman to write the ghost story. I chose these themes because I wanted to make a connection between the past and the present in a "scary" or perhaps mysterious way. Even if it is "creepy", the goal in this story is to teach the main character the importance of knowing the past and how it affects her time.
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"Ugh, I'm FINALLY going to bed", said Cristine. It had been a long day: in school, she learned about segregation, Martin Luther King, Malcolm X, and the Freedom Riders in all her classes (including Math, which was ridiculous but it's true) and students have been fighting about things like which students were better based on their grades and backgrounds (even her best friends Sandy and Mandy). While Cristine plugged her phone charger to the wall, se heard a tap on her window. She froze but recovered instantly for it was only the wind. Then, in a blink of an eye, the lights flickered out. "Well, at least I have a candle", she said as she scrambled for the matches and lighted the almond-scented candle. Just as she was setting her candle on her bedside table, she screamed. Next to her was an old lady with a white cloth around her head, dark skin, hollowed eyes full of mysteries, and lines in her face.
"You girl... You woken up?", said the ghost. "Who... Who are you?', Cristine whispered shakily. "Don't be afraid, girl. I seen bad much more than you. I've seen bad since Civil War and has not rested since I died. I was named Ticey but died named Jane Pittman", the ghost replied solemnly. "Who you, girl?". Cristine didn't believe in ghosts but she also didn't believe that an ancient woman could've climbed her stairs or the side of her house as stealthily as a thief. Before she could say her name, she asked the ghost if it would hurt her. "Child, I've seen 'nough suffering: no harm will come to you. Now what's your name?". "I'm Cristine. What will you do then, if you won't hurt me?". "Child, I have come to show the past so it can't repeated. I've seen you had rough day in school for the same things my people suffered. Take my hand so I could show you". Cristine, cautiously, took her hand and was shocked to discover that Jane's hand was warm (as if she were alive). When she looked about, they were standing in a cotton field filled with black workers wearing rags and white people sporting whips and crisp white shirts. "Cristine, this is where I worked for 'leven years. We was enslaved, workin' for hours in the sun 'til one good soldier said we were free. Ah, Colonel Brown gave me Jane as a new name and I've been using it ever since". Cristine couldn't believe the way colored people were treated and how the white people thought of themselves as royalty.
Suddenly, Jane snapped her fingers and then they were floating in the air looking down at two kids. "Oh Ned, my dear Ned. How young he died 'cause segregation and justice. A justice that many thought was impossible... Girl, how's justice in your time?". Cristine looked down at the hungry-looking kids and said: "I wish I could say that justice is better but it hasn't really changed". Jane sighed and took them into a small house with a wooden table, a few windows and a bed. "After my husband, Joe, died, I lived in Samson plantation. While living here, Freedom Riders were attacked, the Klu Klux Klan attacked everyone of color or those against segregation, and Reverend King was seen as the main leader with his speech and his many followers.. I remember clearly that day I walked past Robert Samson and joined those who were to follow Jimmy who've been killed few hours ago. Know why I did that? 'Cause people should learn to stand up to those who think they better. It ain't because it's right or wrong: it's 'cause suffering ain't the key to a good future. The key's to accept differences and help one another survive in a world that's cruel. Child, learn to see the world with kind eyes and help others see like you, understand?". Jane smiled, which made Cristine smile back as she answered: " Yes, Miss Jane".
With that, Jane touched Cristine's forehead and sent her back to her bedroom. Cristine was happy to be back in bed, but was even happier to know how to solve the situation in her school. She had also come up with an idea: to make a presentation about what she learned with Jane. Sure, she was tired, but it was Jane's kind and wise words that made Cristine get up and grab a pen to show others how to see the world with kindness.
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| Miss Jane Pittman |
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