Convictions versus Compromise
Lily Casey Smith’s storms came in
different forms and circumstances: a flash flood at ten, tornadoes, a
fraudulent first marriage in her twenties, droughts and the Great Depression, among
others. As I read the novel Half Broke Horse
by Jeannette Walls, I thought of bamboos. Lily Casey Smith, the main
character in the novel, was like a bamboo left standing all alone in the
aftermath of a storm.
Lily’s mother tried hard to impose on Lily
expected gender roles that, up to this day, are still the mindsets of many
women, even the whole American society. Lily’s role model, however, was her
father. Lily learned to break horses at such an early age. While her father was teaching her to break
horses, her mother was more concerned of finding Lily a suitable husband; she
usually frowned on Lily’s unladylike behavior.
It was the father who encouraged and recognized Lily’s potentials. As I read into the story, I realized that
Lily’s innate strength and moral convictions of doing what she thought was
right started early on as a child. Her strong convictions were usually
reinforced by her father.
Lily’s encounter with Deputy Johnson when
she told him that she ran her own classroom and she would discipline wayward
kids the way she saw it fit demonstrated a strength that arose as a result of
unconventional tasks she did while growing up; like breaking horses. Lily’s
response to Jim when she told him what happened was also
I commend Lily for refusing to back down
during the confrontation. Lily had once
defended her father on a court trial in front of a judge and the situation wat nothing new to her. Lily was reprimanding Johnny Johnson for his
behavior in treating Rosita, a Mexican girl. Lily standing up for Rosita could have been a
situation where another teacher would just have looked the other way.
Compromising in this manner was accepting the consequences of standing up for
one’s convictions. Lily compromised her job as a teacher.
My moral convictions may not be as
intense as those of Lily Casey Smith; however, I believe everyone is entitled
to justice, even for someone who was accused of a crime.
Five
years ago, James, my brother in Burbank called me at midnight.
“Fatima was found dead in her apartment
yesterday,” James breathlessly rattled over the phone.
Fatima was my oldest sister who was working as
a nurse in London. My brother posted a video clip on Facebook later that day.
The video showed my sister’s remains which was
covered in an orange sheet. My
sister’s remains was being loaded on a van and the video clip was in the local
news in London.
“I
am crying for justice over the death of my sister,” my little sister Jennifer
posted on her Facebook status later that day.
There were hundreds of outpouring of
sympathies and condolences from Jennifer’s friends at Facebook. Meanwhile, I could not believe Fatima was
dead. I browsed at every online newspaper based in London. Two weeks after, a
news article reported that my sister was killed by her boyfriend. The news
report alleged that Michael was the jilted lover.
“I
hope Michael rots in jail,” one posted on Jennifer’s status at Facebook.
Similar others comments thanked God that the killer was found. Jennifer agreed
with her Facebook sympathizers that Michael should rot in jail.
“Now Fatima can rest in peace,” commented
one of Jennifer’s friends at Facebook. I
flinched as I read the comment.
Fatima died on the last day of June. I visited her at her apartment in East End of
London in November the year before. I have actually met Michael, a coworker who
was also a nurse, currently married at that time to another nurse. I also did meet Harvey, a divorced man from
Brighton, who, I thought was Fatima’s boyfriend.
My
parents, James, Jennifer, and friends of James and Jennifer at Facebook believed
that the case was solved with Michael in jail. But up to this day, I never stopped doubting
whether Michael really killed Fatima. To me, it is easier to compromise and
believe like everyone that what was being told is the truth.
I thought about the case surrounding the
death of Fatima about two weeks ago when I first heard that an undocumented immigrant
from Mexico admitted shooting a woman by accident at the San Francisco pier. I
could not believe how easily the San Francisco Police Department could have solved
the case.
As I reflect upon compromise versus
convictions, I could only think of Lily Casey Smith who stood firm for what she
believed in. The situation surrounding
her sister Helen’s death might have been different to the death of Fatima but
the process of moving on in life is the same. All her life, Lily Casey Smith weathered
storms like the proverbial bamboo by swaying with the wind and by bouncing back
even from very difficult circumstances, with dignity and without falter. Should
we not?
Works Cited
Walls,
Jeannette. Half Broke Horses. New
York: Scribner, 2009
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