Apple Bloom vs. Straight Lace
“Are ya sure I’m gonna do good?”
Princess Twilight Sparkle rolled her eyes at the silly question, and the grammatical hiccup. “Of course you’ll do well. You picked a good topic for your speech and you have the basic techniques down. Right, Spike?”
Spike, meanwhile, was marking some things on a scroll. “Err, yeah, I think so. You didn’t slouch or stammer, and you didn’t flick your ears wrong, either. I still don’t get why you have to do this, though. Every pony can talk.”
Twilight sighed and lifted the scroll out of his claws to go over her notes one final time. “The Rhetoric Test isn’t about proving you can talk, Spike; it’s tradition. Ponies need to show that they can learn and research about a complicated topic and convey their message with clarity. That way, they learn how to stand up for what they believe in in a calm, peaceful manner.”
Spike shook his head. “That doesn’t explain why you’d have to do it when you’re little.”
“Really, Spike, that’s just how it is, it dates back to tribal times. You took that test back in Canterlot, too, remember?”
Apple Bloom’s ears perked. “Really? You already took that test? What didya talk about? Poverty? Famine?”
Spike grinned. “Gems.”
“Err… were gems one of society’s issues when you were in school, Spike?”
Twilight rolled her eyes again and put her scroll away. “No, but he did make a lovely speech about how he was worried that gems might lose their value if ponies didn’t change the grading system they had for them. Which they did, by the way; the guilds were already on it long before Spike thought of it.”
The little filly felt an odd mix of admiration and sheer dread then. “Wow. What about you, Twilight?”
“Hmm? Oh, I picked magical exhaustion as a topic. It wasn’t that big a deal, really. Mostly I listed the symptoms, consequences, how and why you should prevent it. Not every pony picks a heavy topic like yours.”
Apple Bloom rubbed the back of her head, nervous. “Gosh. Are ya sure I picked a good topic, then?”
“You picked an excellent topic, Apple Bloom.” Twilight patted the girl on the back. “If it’s important to you, then you should speak about it. I think it’s very brave you want to talk about what happened to you. And that’s what that test is for: to teach you how to defend what you hold dear. You do think it’s important, right?”
That got a determined, but clearly frightened nod out of the girl. “Darn tootin’. I don’t want anyone to go through what I went through.”
“Good, then no more doubting it. You just march up to the front of the class tomorrow, hold your head up high, and give your talk like a proper young lady. That’s all you have to do.”
Her courage refueled, Apple Bloom took a deep breath. “Okay, thanks, Twilight. I think I can do it. I just hope Miss Cheerilee likes my talk, too.”
“Well, her and the inspector,” Twilight said.
“I beg your pardon?”
“The Rhetoric Test is supposed to be done with an impartial judge, Apple Bloom, someone who hasn’t heard you speak yet. You’re being evaluated based on how well you speak in front of strangers, so there’s going to be an inspector coming, too. You didn’t know?”
What little courage had flowed into Apple Bloom's soul now started spiralling down the sink. “No. Oh, darnit, that changes everything.”
“It doesn’t change anything,” Twilight insisted.
“But what if the inspector doesn’t like my talk?”
“Come on now, Apple Bloom, you picked a fine topic. Who wouldn’t like it?”
Straight Lace was a proud mare of principle. Born and raised in the fine city of Canterlot, well-educated in the Equestrian Institute for Magical Mares, she had always been steadfast in her beliefs and strong in her struggles for a better society. She kept her white coat clean, her golden, almost flaxen mane shining, and her horn filed down to a respectable blunt point at all times, as social rules demanded. She was firm, but just, as her cutie mark of a gavel might suggest.
That’s why she’d become a school inspector, after all: to ensure that future generations of mares would have a good sense of values and grow up into respectable adults. Sure, they had teachers and parents to take care of that sort of thing, but evaluation of children was crucial in maintaining a proper society of well-adjusted adults, and such matters could not be left to a potentially biased or, as she often dreaded, corrupted individual.
Yes, Straight Lace was the epitome of good manners and good values. That’s why she was the one called to judge children.
That’s why she had to venture forth into Ponyville Elementary.
The class had a reputation, of course, and so did their teacher, Miss Cheerilee. The children here were notoriously ill-tempered ruffians who didn’t so much as flinch in causing a national scandal, or poisoning their fellow ponies. And to make matters worse, those were just the girls. Whatever trouble the boys caused never made the news, so that must have been downright bone-chilling. Still, Straight Lace was an impartial judge, she was fair in all things, so she wouldn’t let any prejudice stand between her and her task.
That task was simple: grade them for the old Rhetoric Test. All she had to do was listen to the children as they gave a speech about a topic close to their hearts, and grade them based on their performance. It was to mark an important point in their development, to make sure they knew how to properly use their voice to speak on matters that pertained to them. This was essential for the future of pony society, and Lace never took this task lightly.
After all, this presentation, and its results, would help monitor who among the girls were natural leaders and confident speakers, and which ones would need additional encouragement. It would also help pinpoint who among the boys had attitude problems and might require a summer school to learn when to be quiet, such as when girls or mares were talking, and which ones were well-behaved and knew their place. Naturally, Cheerilee would be grading them as well, but the final verdict would still come from the unicorn.
Straight Lace sat down at the front row and got out her list. A dozen or so girls, half a dozen boys, perfectly balanced class. She preferred the all-girls classes, obviously, but that tended to lead to all-boys classes elsewhere, which was just asking for trouble.
“Apple Bloom?” Cheerilee asked. “You’re up first.”
Straight Lace checked the first name on the list, along with the permanent record. Apple Bloom: local girl, farm girl. Lace looked up from her list to give the filly a first evaluation. Blank flank, good posture, friendly smile. Hardly any sign of nerves moving to the front of the class. Another look at the girl’s permanent record revealed she was one of the three involved in that awful ‘Gabby Gums’ scandal, where that delinquent little Featherweight had no doubt coerced four innocent girls into becoming social pariahs to satisfy his own voyeuristic impulses without consequences. She saw that lanky pegasus sitting in the back, no doubt plotting his next crime against those poor, innocent girls. His time would come.
For now, though, Straight Lace sat back and nodded towards the innocent, undoubtedly talented little girl, and eagerly awaited what manner of topic Apple Bloom might broach.
“Hello, everyone, Miss Straight Lace. My name’s Apple Bloom, and today I’d like to talk about a topic that’s very important to me, and that I think needs to be addressed.”
Straight Lace nodded and jotted down some notes. The girl’s poise was fine, but the country accent was somewhat distracting. At least she was looking at her audience, that was a plus.
“It concerns an incident that happened last fall, when my sister took me to the Farmer’s Market in Rainbow Falls, and one that, I have to admit, still upsets me a little, thinking back on it.”
Again, Straight Lace nodded. A ‘confessional poet’ type of story, those always went down well. Emotional value, good sense of weight and importance, good priorities. Not like the violent, action-packed stories boys were so fond of, little bundles of aggression that they were.
“And what I learned about rape culture that day.”
This made Straight Lace’s pencil freeze in mid-air. “I beg your pardon?”
Apple Bloom flinched ever so slightly. “Umm, I’d like to talk about rape culture, if you don’t mind.”
Straight Lace cast a glance over the class. Six boys, twelve girls, all aged ten, or thereabouts. “I do mind, little girl. That’s not a proper topic for a classroom like this. You can’t just try and discuss such a sensitive topic here.”
“Why not?”
Straight Lace would have sighed, but she’d seen this too often already. Teachers would try and educate their children on the well-documented horrors of Equestrian rape culture and neglect to separate the boys and girls. You might as well just pretend it doesn’t exist if you’re going to do something as silly as that.
The problem with rape culture, as any well-educated individual knew, was that Equestrian society conditioned boys to see girls as objects, so obviously boys had to be singled out in school and taught that they were being taught to be horrible. Boys had to be reminded that raping girls was wrong, and that they should never question anything any girl did, lest they let their oppressively masculine natures get the better of them.
Of course, in practice such classes were not taught. In practice, boys were never taught that they hated mares, just to hate mares. And girls, unfortunately, grew up not thinking that boys would victimise them at every opportunity, but that they would and deserved to be victimised.
Honestly, the mares that made up the bulk of teachers in Equestria were doing something horribly wrong, but what exactly, Straight Lace had never quite figured out.
Sure, Apple Bloom had the right idea, but she just couldn’t do this in a mixed class. In a mixed class, the boys might object or -- silly little things -- get offended by the truth or -- the horror! -- argue! That just wouldn’t be right; the girls might, if not properly warned and guided in their thinking, listen to the boys and end up convinced that there was no such thing as rape culture, thereby defeating the whole purpose of such a lesson. Besides, they were a little young to be talking about this sort of thing, even if Apple Bloom had apparently suffered the consequences of societal decay already.
“Your class isn’t up to the proper level for such a discussion, it will upset the other students and derange their presentations.” Straight Lace argued. “You didn’t consider the ramifications of your message. So I’m going to have to cut you off there. There will be no talk of rape culture here.”
Apple Bloom pouted. “But… but what about my score? Does that mean I fail?”
“Not to worry, little girl, I’ll have a talk with your teacher later, we can work something out.”
Cheerilee just shrugged as Apple Bloom took her seat.
Straight Lace suppressed a sigh. What an incompetent buffoon that Cheerilee is. Not even so much as a gasp when a little girl wants to talk about such an important topic. Oh, well, let’s see how the next one does.
“Diamond Tiara? Your turn.” Straight Lace said, getting the next entry on her list.
“Hello. I’m Diamond Tiara, and I, like, wanna talk about how important it is to groom your hooves.”
Straight Lace nodded, impressed. Now there was a girl who had her priorities straight.
“And I’m gonna show you with these handy products my daddy sells in his store.”
Promotion of her family’s business. What a nice little girl this was.
Apple Bloom groaned when she came in through the front door. The trek to Sweet Apple Acres had seemed longer than usual, but in Ponyville distance tended to be a little subjective anyway. “I’m home!”
“How’d it go?” Big Mac asked, calling out from the kitchen.
“Bad,” Apple Bloom replied. Something had knotted up her stomach, and was currently exploring an escape route towards her throat.
Big Macintosh walked over from the kitchen towards the front door, where he found his littlest sister. She’d plopped her rump down on the rug and let her head hang.
“What happened?” Big Mac asked. “Stage fright?”
“No.” Apple Bloom shook her head. “I didn’t even get to talk about rape culture. That Miss Lace, she just cut me off and wouldn’t let me speak. I don’t know why, I think she might just have a grudge against me or somethin’.”
Big Mac considered it. “So whatchu gonna do now?”
“We’re back!” Applejack called out from the back. She came into the living room along with Granny Smith and almost gasped when she saw Apple Bloom’s state. “What happened? Did Cheerilee make a fuss?”
“No, Miss Cheerilee was fine. She looked surprised, but that’s all. It’s that other pony that made a fuss, Miss Straight Lace.”
“So what happened?” Applejack asked.
“I don’t know,” Apple Bloom replied. “Miss Straight Lace didn’t want me to talk about rape culture.”
“What? After what happened at the Fair, you ain’t even allowed to talk about it? But you’ve been doin’ all that readin’ on it for months! All that for nothin’?” Applejack asked.
“I guess. She said it wasn’t a suitable topic for our class, that it was too complicated for us.”
“Too complicated? That’s a load of hooey,” Applejack said. “You’re supposed to pick something complicated for that test, somethin’ you care a lot about. You gotta be able to use your voice for good, that’s just pony tradition. Why would anyone object to that?”
Apple Bloom shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Apple Bloom, what’s the matter?”
“It’s nothin’, I just… when I was talkin’, Straight Lace was smiling up until the point I mentioned rape culture. And she smiled all the way through Diamond’s presentation, Sweetie Belle’s, Scootaloo’s…”
That made Applejack’s Common Sense tingle. “Wait, hang on. Diamond Tiara came after you? Right after?”
Apple Bloom nodded, wiping away some dirt that most definitely was not a tear and no one could ever prove it was. “Yeah, so?”
“But what about that boy in your class, Button Mash? Ain’t he supposed to follow you up, you know, alphabetically?”
Slowly, pondering, Apple Bloom shook her head. “The boys all went last, Applejack. And I don’t think they did too well.”
A feeling of dread settled over the family then. Applejack hid it well, though. “What makes you say that?”
“Somethin’ on Straight Lace’s face. You shoulda seen it. When Button started talkin’ about how videogame ponies and reporters have been in cahoots and all that consumer revolt stuff, everypony looked real interested, except her.”
Silence fell.
Applejack was the first to speak up. “Well, maybe she’s just out of her depth, and she didn’t want to look like a fool. After all, mare like that’s gotta keep a reputation. Maybe she just didn’t want to risk you getting in trouble.”
“I kinda doubt that, Applejack. If that’s true, then why didn’t she stop the other ponies she didn’t like the talk of?”
“Well, I don’t know. But what else could it be?”
Big Mac grumbled. “You know darn right what it could be. Could be some pony’s got her own agenda, and that ain’t couth in that kinda position. She can’t stop you from talkin’ about somethin’ you think is important; that’s the whole point of the test.”
“Too right,” Granny Smith said. “You can’t let that sort of thing slide, youngin. You wanna use your voice, you gotta use it proper like, ain’t nopony gonna deny you that right.”
Apple Bloom sighed. “So what am I supposed to do, then?”
“Well, what did Lace say you should do? She didn’t fail you, did she?” Applejack winced at the thought.
“Not exactly. She said I had to pick a different topic for my final exam. But since I have to change it on short notice, she said it was okay if I just brought something for a show and tell. As long as it doesn’t involve rape culture, it’s fine.”
Big Mac growled under his breath. It would have been a lot more intimidating had he not been wearing a white and pink apron that read ‘Kiss the Chef’. “That ain’t fair,” he said. “That exam’s supposed to be you talkin’ about somethin’ you think is important. She can’t just deny you like that.”
“She also said she wanted one of my family members present next time, so I wouldn’t lie about anything. She wants witnesses.”
This nearly made Applejack blow a fuse. “She thinks you lied, too? Did you even get to tell her about what happened at the Farmer’s Market?”
Apple Bloom shook her head. “Didn’t get a chance to. Guess it doesn’t matter. I’ll just go get a zap apple seed or somethin’.”
Granny Smith pondered it for a moment. “Hang on, youngin, I think I got somethin’ better for ya.”
Apple Bloom strode confidently to the front of the class the next day, while Straight Lace sat there with the same smug smile she always had.
The girls of Cheerilee’s class had performed admirably, of course: all of them articulated well and faced their audience, and they’d all chosen fine topics that were worth explaining or defending, such as what makes confectionary so tasty, and why mane conditioner should only be applied with moderation.
The boys, however, were the usual bunch of violent upstarts who had no sense of presence or priorities. Featherweight, that manipulative little scoundrel, dared to speak of journalistic integrity and making amends after what he’d pulled on his run as school photographer. Snips had had the audacity to do a presentation on his opinions of Equestrian fashion and not include the latest trends in mare fashion -- the fiend! -- nor even mention zebra fashion -- racist scum that he was. Button Mash, then, was a lost cause: a video gamer, as evidenced by his talk about ethics in video game journalism. Everyone knew gamers were just cancerous little lumps of poisoned ideas and violent impulses, how anyone let that sort of child even run free was beyond Lace’s understanding. Granted, he didn’t have any violent history on his permanent record, but there would be, it was inevitable.
The only boy who’d performed somewhat adequately was Snails. Snails had talked about a very important topic: high school bullying and what to do against it. If only he hadn’t made it sound like anyone could be a bully, instead of just boys, as any well-educated adult knew. Still, Snails was merely misguided instead of malicious, like the rest of the boys were.
Apple Bloom, though, was a mystery, still. Apple Bloom had chosen to bring a piece of paper as her replacement assignment for this exam. Applejack took a seat on the far right end of the room, next to Cheerilee. Straight Lace sat closer to the girl, on the far left end of the room.
“Ready when you are, Apple Bloom,” Straight Lace said.
“Okay. Hello, everyone, I’m Apple Bloom, and since my last talk didn’t go over very well, I’ll be doing a little show and tell now.”
Straight Lace nodded. Again, the girl had good poise, firm body language, nice enunciation. The accent was somewhat distracting, but at least it wasn’t as bad as the Trottingham accent of Pipsqueak. That boy was downright incomprehensible.
“Now, what I’ve brought for y’all today is a very important document that’s been in my family for three generations. We’ve had it renewed a couple of times, but this is the original one.” Apple Bloom picked up the paper, it looked like an old scroll, and flipped it so everyone could read it.
“This is a marihuana stamp,” Apple Bloom proudly declared.
Again, Straight Lace nearly choked. The paper did indeed have the word ‘Marihuana’ printed on it in disturbingly large, friendly letters. It’s always the friendly ones you’ve got to watch out for, Straight Lace knew. “What?!”
Again, Cheerilee merely blinked in confusion at the inspector. “Go on, Apple Bloom.”
“No, don’t go on. You mean to tell me your family has a history with marihuana?”
“Is there a problem with that?” Applejack asked.
“Of course there’s a problem with that. Marihuana is a gateway drug, it ruins lives!”
“What’s a gateway drug?” Apple Bloom asked, before gasping with delight. “Is that like a pill you take so you can teleport?”
“Hey, that sounds pretty cool,” Scootaloo said. “Can we get some gateway drugs? I wanna see if I can teleport into a Wonderbolts derby.”
“Ooh, ooh, I want those gateway drugs, too! I wanna teleport to the Crystal Empire!” Sweetie Belle flailed her arms enthusiastically.
“No one is taking gateway drugs and no one is teleporting anywhere,” Cheerilee interrupted. “Miss Straight Lace, if you’d please be so kind as to not expose my class to things they’re not old enough to understand yet, I’d appreciate it.”
“Sorry, but I have to object,” Straight Lace said. “It’s bad enough that she wants to talk about rape, but talking about marihuana like it’s nothing is just uncouth.”
“If it’s so uncouth, why would Princess Celestia let my family grow it?” Apple Bloom asked.
Straight Lace would have retorted, but for once she found that, contrary to what she did at meetings of The Equestrian Society for Boy’s Rights -- or rather the protests against it -- rote repetition of her beliefs wasn’t going to cut it. “I… what?”
Apple Bloom held up the paper so everyone could see. “This is a marihuana stamp, given to my great-grandfather by Princess Celestia herself. Why would she do that if it’s such a bad thing?”
Straight Lace felt the eyes of the two mares on her. “Right. Continue, please.” Lace held her pen firmly in her magic, ready to mark down some red lines at the first hint of anything unsavoury.
“Thank you. So, as I was saying, this is a marihuana stamp. Princess Celestia gave it to my family shortly after we moved here. It’s a permit, you see, to grow cannabis.”
Straight Lace sighed. As much as she wanted to protest, Cheerilee and Applejack would undoubtedly interfere if she did, and possibly get her superiors involved after the fact. No matter; if this was even half as damaging as it looked, Cheerilee wouldn’t have a job once this whole scandal was over.
“Now, cannabis is a very interesting sorta plant. It can get about as tall as a pony, even twice that once it’s time to harvest. It’s a dense and shady crop, which means it blocks out sunlight from anythin’ else. Weeds in a cannabis field just get choked out, plus it’s real easy on the soil, which makes it really useful to prepare fields for a food crop. It also grows on fields that support corn, so it gets switched up for that a lot.”
Straight Lace stared intently at the girl. So far, nothing too objectionable.
“But the main thing about cannabis, or marihuana, is that’s it’s an industrial crop. Back in the old days, it’s what ponies used instead of silk. Anytime you see those old carts with white sheets on’em? The fabric is called ‘canvas,' and it’s made of that plant. When the Apple farm was just starting, cannabis was one of the crops we grew on the far end of our turf. My family used to help make the fabric for the wagons and tents of other pioneers passin’ through, and the money we got from that helped us survive in between Zap Apple harvests. This stamp right here was a certificate; we had to get this for tax purposes, so the ponies in charge knew we weren’t growin’ food on all our land. Because, you know, at first we couldn’t really feed ourselves, but we could get money for sellin' canvas and buy food in Canterlot with that. When other families moved in, marihuana became the biggest crop of this town, making it one of the major supply points for pilgrims. That’s why Ponyville got as big as it did: this was where pilgrims would stop and decide which way to go next. This town was where they could rest, lettin’ up the pressure on Canterlot, which was gettin’ overcrowded at the time. O’course, it’s less nowadays, but the reputation’s still here, and some of the fields are still here, too.”
Apple Bloom took a deep breath to steady herself.
“That’s why you still have some weavers in Ponyville, and why fashion ponies like Sweetie Belle’s sister come around from time to time: there’s not a lot of dress makers, but the fabric weavers are still here. And even though it’s gotten replaced with fruits and vegetables, Ponyville still produces industrial crops along with food crops.”
Lace pondered it for a moment. So apparently the marihuana stamp wasn’t an invitation to make drugs.
“Which brings me to the topic I wanted to talk about yesterday: what happened at the Farmer’s Market.”
Straight Lace stiffened. “Little girl, I thought we agreed you wouldn’t speak of anything so uncouth as rape culture.”
“Why not?” Applejack protested. “She’s supposed to talk about something she cares a lot about, I’ve heard her talk, and it ain’t uncouth.”
“We shall see. Go on, then.”
Apple Bloom sighed. “Okay, then. When me and my sister went to Rainbow Falls to go mingle with other farmers, there were these ponies outside the Market. They were protesting. They were shouting about how lives were bein’ ruined and homes destroyed, and they had these flyers with them. They threw one towards me, then spouted off something about a petition and pushed the paper right in my face. They asked me if I thought it was okay that lives were bein’ ruined by ponies at the Market, if I wanted to grow up in a world that let crime go unpunished. I said no, and they were really happy about that.”
Straight Lace saw the girl shiver, even gulp.
“I lost sight of my big sister for just a second. Just one tiny little second after I said I agreed with’em, they all crowded around me, makin’ noise and shovin’ me this way and that. That’s when they started touching me, and umm, by the time my sister got me out, I was covered, and I mean covered, head to hoof, in sticky stuff.”
Straight Lace furrowed her brow at that. To think ponies would subject a girl to that kind of humiliation in broad daylight, and posing as a perfectly civil protest, no less, it was everything she hated about Equestrian society. That poor girl, humiliated, abused, and broken by a corrupted culture.
She was half-tempted to crack out a recorder and sell the story to Equestria Daily.
“These ponies covered me in stickers, turned me into a walkin’ billboard for their cause.”
Straight Lace caught herself almost dropping her pen from her magic. Huh?
“They didn’t show the least bit of respect for my personal space, and they wouldn’t let me go until I was all covered. And to make it worse, when my sister pulled me away, they said I should sign their petition. I didn’t even realise what I’d supposedly agreed to. They said if I didn’t sign, I’d be condemning another little filly to suffer somewhere. They started houndin’ me and my sister like we were criminals. The way they just swarmed me, I could barely breathe, I couldn’t even see anything, the crowd was so dense. I was so scared I might have even signed if Applejack hadn’t pulled me to safety in time. All that, over somethin’ they wouldn’t even mention by name. Because of somethin’ farmers were doing, farmers who just wanted to go to their Market in peace.”
Straight Lace would have interrupted the girl again, but this exam was to be a presentation, not a debate, so she kept quiet for now.
“Once we got inside, we actually met some farmers. I made friends with a nice girl named Mustard Cutter. She was from a pear-growin’ family that had branched out a few years ago, and she told me about all the hardships those protesters had put her and her family through.”
Straight Lace didn’t connect the dots quite yet. Apple Bloom had her class riveted, though.
“As it turns out, some ponies think that all land should be used to grow food. They think that if you don’t grow food, you don’t deserve to call yourself a farmer. They think that me and my family aren’t real farmers because we grow marihuana along with everything else. And those protesters think it’s okay to put up a petition and shout insults at farmer ponies, at a Farmer’s Market, right at the entrance. That’s why I wanted to talk about it. That’s why I still want to talk about it. I gotta warn y’all, ‘coz this is gonna blindside you if I don’t.”
Applejack nodded at her little sister.
Apple Bloom took a deep breath. “Nowadays, ponies think it’s normal not just to protest against somethin’ they don’t like, but to sabotage it and lie about it and badmouth it any way they can. There are ponies out there who’ll tell you a story to get you all riled up so you’ll sign whatever it is they want you to sign, so you’ll believe whatever it is they want you to believe. They know they can get a knee-jerk reaction outta you, and jerkin’ knees is all they want. It’s all they really can do, because as soon as you start to think about it and ask questions, they fall apart. They can’t defend themselves against anyone who asks the right questions, so then they act like you’re the enemy, or oppressin’ them. They got no respect for others, no sense of personal space, and they think anything, anything, is justified to get what they want. That ain’t right. That’s bullying, and I think we all know what happens when you have to rely on bullying.”
Their class knew that all too well. Most of them stayed still and looked around bashfully, but a few nodded in agreement, including Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon.
“And the worst part of it is, these ponies’ll show everywhere, especially where you don’t want them. These sorts of ponies, they’ll show up in places where you want to relax, make new friends, or hear somepony talk about something that maybe you don’t agree with. They don’t want ponies finding middle grounds with each other. I’ve read up on it, and these kindsa folk… they’ll go lookin’ for a civil debate. And then they’ll throw a fit or interrupt everything, do whatever they can to stop it being civil. They’ll try to get you scared, or angry, or whatever it is they need you to be so you’d do as they say. They’ll try to shut everyone up and demand all the attention, even if they don’t deserve it. And if that don’t work, they’ll just up and attack you, because they think they’re right.”
Straight Lace didn’t understand the point, but she had to commend the girl on her delivery: very heartfelt, very powerful. The girl was almost sobbing just thinking about it.
“This girl, Mustard Cutter, her family’d been gettin’ harrassed for months. Their cart had had the wheels broken, somepony had lied about her father committin’ some awful crime, one of their barns had almost caught fire. All that, just because some ponies decided they don’t like what that family was doing on their own land. They even know where the lies came from, where the protesters got their so-called ‘information’. It was from the competition: from ponies who’d make more money if that family caved in.”
Straight Lace turned to see Applejack biting her lip.
Apple Bloom sighed. “I don’t really wanna go off on too much of a tangent-like, but I guess what I’m trying to say is: be careful, y’all, ‘coz it can happen to you. If you don’t like somethin’, be civil, ask questions. Don’t turn into a bully; that’s no way to get what you want. And don’t let the bullies win, either. Don’t fall for some story that only gets you outraged, don’t sign anything if you feel pressured into it. If somepony gets you so angry you can’t think straight, when they make you think you’re the bad guy for not supportin’ them… that’s when they nab you. That’s when they slap a sticker on you that turns you into one of them. That’s when you lose your voice, because that’s when somepony else tricks you into talkin' for them.”
The unicorn inspector still had her eyebrows furrowed. As strong a speaker as Apple Bloom was, she wasn’t making any sense.
“In conclusion: I know I’ll be looking out next time somepony shoves a piece of paper under my nose. I’m not gonna agree with anypony if I don’t know what I’m agreeing with. I don’t plan on getting blindsided like that again, and I hope you’ll be careful, too. In the meantime, I’m happy to say that my new friend’s doin’ fine now, their harvest is comin’ along nicely, and the Apple family is going to take a stand and start supporting rape culture in Ponyville, too, with the help of Diamond Tiara’s family. That is all, thank you for your time.” Apple Bloom smiled and took a little bow.
As one, the class started clapping as she returned to her seat.
Straight Lace sat there, still dumbfounded. Apple Bloom’s technique was spotless, true, but her choice of topic was just confusing. “Hold on, if you wanted to talk about farming, why did you start by saying it was about rape culture? And why would you support something as awful as that?”
Apple Bloom shrugged. “Because rape culture’s what ponies were protesting, specifically, Ma’am. They still are. Turns out there’s a big market war goin’ on in the vegetable oil business. The foreign palm and soybean farmers have been gettin’ downright nasty since Princess Celestia started encouraging homegrown oil. I only found out after I started reading into it. I mean, fightin’ over oil? Who knew?”
“But what does that have to do with the patriarchy?”
Apple Bloom frowned. “What’s a patriarchy?”
Straight Lace’s angelic patience was being tested now. “Institutionalised oppression of mares and girls, boys being conditioned to oppress girls, societal decay! You didn’t mention any of these things, how can you say you talk about rape culture when you don’t even mention these things?”
Cheerilee’s head snapped towards the mare. Applejack had caught it, too. Straight Lace felt their gaze bore into her. No matter; it’s not like these ponies were in any position to oppress her for her beliefs, and they were mares on top of that.
“Umm… no offense, Ma’am, but I ain’t seen any real oppression yet. Unless you mean not bein’ allowed to talk about how rape is bein’ proper demonised and why exactly those other ponies protested against it, like I wanted to. I wanted to talk about the lies they were spoutin’, but I had to make do with what my own family grows. Not that that makes much of a difference, mind you. I mean, sure, hemp is an industrial crop too, but hemp ain’t got protests against it, not like rape seed.”
“Rape… seed? This whole time, you were talking about rape… seed?” Straight Lace’s face went red with rage -- that is, the skin underneath her white fur turned a bright shade of red, leaving her actual face still snow white -- as she realised she’d been duped.
“Of course she was,” Cheerilee said. “She’s from the famous Apple family, after all. What else would a little girl like her be talking about? Thank you, Apple Bloom, that was very inspiring.”
Straight Lace growled under her breath. This was the girl’s intention all along, it had to be. She was just as bad as Featherweight, or any other of the miscreant boys in this class. “You little…”
“Well done, Apple Bloom, I think we all learned a valuable lesson today,” Cheerilee interrupted, her voice carrying the slightest hint of an edge. “Isn’t that right, Miss Straight Lace?” She shot a glare at the mare to silence any possible insults forming.
Though she hissed under her breath, Straight Lace was nothing if not a good actress. She forced out a smile that was all teeth. “Right. Thank you, Apple Bloom. You’ve been very… enlightening.”
A week later, Apple Bloom was practically bouncing in her seat as she got her results.
Then, all at once, the blood drained from her face. Her jaw went slack, her head went woozy, she almost forgot to breathe.
Almost.
“I failed?! How did I fail?”
“You too, huh?” Featherweight said.
Cheerilee rolled her eyes as she distributed the papers. Besides Apple Bloom, all the girls had passed. Besides Snails, all the boys had failed. And considering how miserable Snails had looked during his presentation, he probably wished he had failed.
“That’s so unfair,” Scootaloo said.
“Yeah, you totally deserved to pass,” Diamond Tiara concurred.
Apple Bloom rose up and quirked an eyebrow. “Huh?”
“Yeah, you said some, like, really important stuff about thinking for yourself.”
“You’re probably the only pony whose talk we’re all gonna remember,” Silver Spoon agreed.
That, at least, got a chuckle out of the girl. “Thanks. I still failed, though.”
“Not to worry, Apple Bloom, you won’t be held back. At worst, you’ll just have to attend a summer class along with the other students.” Cheerilee tried to reassure them with a smile, but she was having her own issues with the situation. “It’s only four hours a day, for three weeks. Not a big deal.”
Apple Bloom looked back to see all five failures staring at their papers. “That still sounds unfair to me.”
“I know it is, Apple Bloom.” Cheerilee patted the girl on the back. “But you did good. You did good, and you did well. You chose a very important and very complicated topic to talk about, you had a good, positive message, and you brought it with passion, conviction, and clarity. You used your voice for good, you used it well, and you should keep doing so in the future. That goes for all of you too, boys.”
“If we did so well, then why do we get such a bad grade?” Featherweight asked.
Cheerilee sighed. “Well, there’s no easy to say this, but… like Apple Bloom said, some ponies will just try and sabotage what they don’t agree with. And some of those ponies are in places they shouldn’t be. But don’t worry, this grade isn’t that important.”
Apple Bloom sat there, defeated like the boys. Even Snails wasn’t happy about his results.
“If it ain’t that important, why even give it?” Apple Bloom asked. “You said this was supposed to be an important point in our lives, when we’re graded by how we use our voice. Well, we used our voice, and we failed, and there’s nothin’ we can do about it. So what’s the point of usin’ your voice in the first place if somepony can just keep ya down like that?”
Cheerilee shook her head and let out a weary sigh. “Everyone, listen to me. You all did very well. You have nothing to be ashamed of. Straight Lace obviously marked some of you down based on criteria she wasn’t allowed to consider. I’ve already sent a letter to the Board of Education, I’m sure they’ll look into the matter.”
Apple Bloom didn’t reply. She was too lost in thought.
“Apple Bloom,” Cheerilee said. “Really, don’t worry about it. You deserve a passing grade, all of you. We have a system for this, it’ll work out. You’ll see.”
Apple Bloom looked up at her teacher, then back at the boys.
“Sure. We’ll see how it turns out.”
“Okay, class,” Princess Twilight Sparkle said, getting a pile of books out of their boxes. “This will be the first of your remedial lessons.”
Apple Bloom sat sullenly on her pillow. The summer classes were being given in Ponyville Library, rather than the school. Why that was, she could only guess. Not like it mattered.
She’d cried when she’d gotten home, and nothing had cheered her up since. She looked left and right to Rumble, Featherweight, Button Mash, and Snips. Looked like the sullen mood was contagious.
“Has the appeal gone in yet?” Apple Bloom asked.
“Yes, it has, actually,” Cheerilee replied, leafing through the papers with the students’ schedule on them. “Straight Lace will have to correct your grades at some point.”
“Then why are we still here?” Button Mash asked. “You said we deserved to pass, so why do we still have to take these classes?”
“Because Miss Straight Lace can’t handle your grades right now; she’s out of the country, and she won’t be back for two months or so.”
“Funny how that goes,” Apple Bloom remarked.
Twilight sighed as she got to Apple Bloom’s seat, depositing three books with her magic. “Yes, that’s Canterlot ponies for you. Don’t worry, it won’t matter in the long run. But it will matter if anypony hears that you’ve been skipping out of classes that you have to take, so pay attention, okay? That goes for all of you.”
Apple Bloom took a long, hard look at the first book she’d gotten. “Patriarchal Reasoning, and How to End the Oppression. This is what we have to learn?”
Cheerilee and Twilight exchanged a quick glance. “Yes,” Cheerilee said. “That’s the standard text now.”
“It was edited by Straight Lace, it says here.” Apple Bloom pointed to the name on the back. “You mean to tell me that mare can make money out of failing us?”
“Yes,” Twilight admitted. “Apparently, there’s no law against that, not yet.”
As one, the boys groaned and shook their heads.
“This is so unfair,” Button Mash said. “We didn’t do anything wrong, we’re being punished for nothing.”
“Yes, but we can still make the most of it, Button. It’s nice and cozy here in the library, we have refreshments and treats, and you don’t have to worry about being graded again,” Cheerilee replied.
Apple Bloom still didn’t see the upside to it. Until she looked at the second book, that is.
“The Children’s Guide to Propaganda?” She inspected the third one, surprised. “Don’t Get Fooled Again? What are these?”
“The older standard texts, since we don’t have the new ones,” Cheerilee replied. “Come to think of it, what happened to those books, Twilight?”
Twilight sighed wistfully. “You know, I honestly have no idea. Discord was in here a few times, I think he might have eaten them.”
“Funny how that goes,” Spike noted, before almost letting out a little ‘burp’.
“No matter, though: we can get replacements easily enough, if anyone feels like reading them. In the meantime, we’ll just have to make do,” Twilight said with a flourish.
“Won’t you get in trouble with Straight Lace, though?” Apple Bloom asked.
Twilight shrugged. “If she wants to complain, she can do it when she’s back in the country.”
Apple Bloom took another look across the room. This was taking too long. “Are we waitin’ for something?”
Right on cue, the door opened to let two fillies in. “Sorry we’re late! We came here as fast as we could.”
“That’s okay, girls, we were just about to start,” Cheerilee said, giving the new arrivals their own copies.
Apple Bloom blinked to make sure she wasn’t seeing things.
“Hey, everypony.” A third arrival came in. “Am I late?”
“No, Snails, it’s fine,” Twilight said. “We’re all here, we can get started now.”
Apple Bloom smelled the girl next to her before it finally registered this wasn’t Sweetie Belle or Scootaloo. It couldn’t be, not with their plans for the first two weeks of summer. Sweetie Belle was off on a music camp, to finally learn how to read notes and strengthen her vocal chords. Scootaloo was off to some mountain resort in reindeer country to help with her flying.
“What are you doin’ here, Diamond Tiara?”
“I’m taking the same class as you, blank flank.” Diamond smirked and held her nose up high in a ‘better than thou’ fashion. The look and smell of her ballet outfit certainly made it work better. She didn’t have her shoes on, though, those were dangling from her sides. Evidently, ballet class was a sprint away from the library.
“Why?”
“Because we didn’t want you to feel, like, alone and stuff just because you failed,” Silver Spoon said. “Snails told us your friends couldn’t be here, and it wouldn’t be any fun if you were the only girl here.” She nodded to the boy as he got his books. The others afforded themselves the tiniest of smiles at the show of solidarity.
“Besides, I remember that speech you all did at my cuteceñeara. If you wanna be mayor of Ponyville one day, you’re gonna have to keep up with me,” Diamond argued.
Apple Bloom stared at the girl. The wafts of nylon scent really hung over her, and the sweat from running wasn’t helping that any. Still, she had to admit, neither Diamond Tiara nor Silver Spoon looked tired, their manes were still in order, that alone commanded respect.
But not too much respect.
“Your daddy made you come, didn’t he?”
Diamond groaned to herself. “Maybe he did.”
“Did you try whining to him about it?”
“Not enough, I guess.”
“Okay, class, today we’ll start with the basics of propaganda. The word ‘propaganda’ is a conjunction of ‘propagation’, which means ‘multiplying and spreading’, and ‘agenda’, which means ‘things to be done’,” Princess Twilight started the lesson while Cheerilee and Spike went to work giving everyone the work sheets.
Apple Bloom sniffed the air, the mix of boys and books and ballet nylon, and felt an odd peace settle over her. Her friends were away, she was stuck having to take lessons because of some silly mare’s ideas, she’d basically lost.
And yet, she was fine with it. As the class started in earnest and the boys started speaking up, a smile formed on her lips.
You can’t win’em all, I guess. But you can get close enough.
Not everypony’s gonna listen, but some of’em will. And some of’em is just fine.
The End.