At long last, after eight whole hours of schooling, the bell rang to let Glory know her misery had ended. She bounded down the steps, jumping the last two and landing in the arid dirt, and trotted away from the squat building made of mismatched stones that housed her class. Merrily, she walked along the sole street of her town. Normally she would go home with her first friend among equals, Cosmo, but....
For as long as Glory had known Cosmo, the other filly had wanted to follow in her big sister Sharp Barb's hoofsteps and become a hairdresser; at least, Cosmo had wanted to do that right up until the moment she had eagerly volunteered to let Barb cut her mane. Barb had accidentally sheered Cosmo's ear off. Now her first friend was lying at home in bed, her whole head swaddled in bandages. The town doctor had assured them all that would solve the problem, but Glory had thought he looked mighty nervous, as if he didn't quite believe the words coming out of his mouth.
So now Glory had to walk home alone. She passed Levee Stress and Sass Surely, two colts from her class, playing in the dirt. Levee was trying to build a water mill in a river of water leaking out of the town's broken pump, while Sass had a pencil between his teeth and scribbled jagged, crude letters on a piece of scrap paper. Levee tried to put two twigs together to form a frame, but -- like every time he tried this -- the structure collapsed in on itself.
“It's no use,” Levee moaned, “I can't get it to stay up like a real building!”
“I'm not doing any better,” Sass said sadly. “These words don't fit together the way they should--”
But something down the street caught Levee's eye. He kicked his first friend among equals in the side. Dopily, Sass looked up from his paper, and quickly joined Levee in scrambling to his hooves, snapping to attention, and saluting.
Glory followed their eyes and saw, walking down the dusty street alongside Miss Fair Shake, Starlight Glimmer. In Glory's mind, there was never any doubt that she should salute as well. After all, Starlight was the most amazing mare who'd ever lived. Leader and founder of this perfect village. Glory whipped her forehoof to her forehead to pay her respects to the kindest, smartest, most valiant pony she had ever known, who had brought equality -- true and genuine equality -- to Equestria. As she walked, she seemed more like a force of nature, like lightning in pony form, and yet there she went, courageous and wise but also so approachable. Glory's mother said Starlight was the kind of pony you could have a cider with; she was just that friendly. And it was true friendship, not like those other high-falutin' places where some ponies thought they were better than others because they had marks on their flanks.
Glory suddenly wanted to thank Starlight for what the mare had done for her. For all of them.
She trotted after her leader, who was kindly giving Double Diamond a hearty smile and wave of her foreleg. Then she turned to Fair Shake, and though she was still smiling her voice went cold, so cold it made Glory slow down and fall into step behind them, torn between listening to what she was saying and respecting her amazing leader's privacy.
“This is about equality, Shake,” Starlight said. “As founder of this village, I am personally responsible for the future of every little pony in that school. I want to give them the best chance they can possibly have. But in order to do that I need to know the quality of their education. An equalized test is, by far, the most reliable way to gauge that, because it's equal. Everypony takes the exact same test in the exact same conditions. The only thing that separates them is the name at the top of the sheet.”
“I understand, Miss Glimmer, but--”
“But? But what?”
“But that poor filly sliced her sister's ear off! I firmly believe in this village's principles of equality, but couldn't a slight bit of time could be allocated to other subjects? Like technical skills? Or home economics and household safety? Art or music? A colt found an old guitar in the storeroom, and he asked me what it was!”
Starlight cast a sharp, icy look in the teacher's direction. “And what if some ponies find out they don't have any aptitude for art or music? It wouldn't be equal to make them learn something they're not good at. And how do we decide which kinds of art and music to teach? Some would have to be chosen and others would be left by the wayside. That's not equality. Neither is devoting time to skills some ponies won't like or need or be good at."
“What about history?”
“What about it? All ponies are created equal by our reasonable draughter, and I founded this village to be the best example of that, to show Equestria what we're trying to accomplish. Teaching the foals anything more would just muddy the issue.”
“But there's so much more to life than that--”
“We're trying to show the world the superiority of an equal way of life. We can't accomplish that by showing outsiders how great our music sounds, how pretty our pictures are, or how good our baking tastes. But numbers, scores on reading/arithmetic tests, those we can use.” Her voice turned icy. “And if the numbers don't demonstrate that, let me remind you that you will be dismissed from your post, effective immediately.”
“Something which is entirely unnecesssary. I've been a teacher for thirty years now. I know it like the back of my hoof!”
“It's a more equal world now, Shake,” Starlight said, looking sidelong at the teacher with a broad grin. “And in a world where all students are equal, that means bad learning comes from bad teachers. If you aren't equal to the task, I can put another pony in your position just like that.” She stomped her hoof sharply on the ground and glowered at the teacher. As she turned her head, however, she finally caught sight of Glory ambling along behind them. “Hello there!” she said, stopping in her tracks and turning around, her voice suddenly full of warmth.
She's our leader, Glory thought, shoving all her doubts aside and discovering a surprising wellspring of confidence inside herself. Even if it was a little bit of a surprise to find out it was her and not mean old Fair Shake who wants us to learn math tables until our eyes fall out, she knows what's best for us.
“Um,” she muttered to that radiant mare beaming down at her, “h-hi, Miss Glimmer. I j-just wanted to th-thank you for....for....”
But how could she put into words what Starlight Glimmer meant? That mare standing over her had done so much to make Glory as equal as everypony else; to let her have friendships with other ponies, earth and pegasus and unicorn, without being divided by race or the inequality of a cutie mark; to give her a place where she would always feel at home.
Faced with such a failure of her wordpower, Glory wished there was a bit more to reading lessons than just the equals sign, but in the presence of the mare who had decreed what her lessons should be in the first place, such a thought filled her with shame.
But, ever gracious, Starlight saved her fumbling, bumbling filly self. “You're so welcome, my little pony,” she said as she walked closer, until she was near enough to rest a hoof on Glory's head. A shiver went through the filly; the mare's touch was electric. “I was born in a big city,” she said, raising her eyes to the sky dreamily, “but I've always been a small-town filly at heart. I left the city and the cutie mark they foisted on me just as soon as I was able, because I firmly believe a humble village is the backbone of a just society. When I couldn't find one that suited my belief in equality, I made this place for all the ponies searching for something they couldn't find in the rest of Equestria. And it gives me so much more pleasure than you can imagine to share that equality with you, my little filly.”
She tousled Glory's mane and, with a lighthearted laugh, walked away, leaving the filly to stare after her in awe. It dawned on Glory that she should salute her glorious leader again, and she stayed at attention until Starlight Glimmer and Fair Shake were out of sight.