Cecily Smythe
April 22, 2008 5:18 AM
Taking things into my own hands by Cecily Smythe
There was nothing to think about – Cecily had made the decision a couple of days ago, and now she just had to execute her plan. When she had first heard about WAIL, she hadn’t really understood what it was all about. Some women had talked with her mother about it, and her cousin Cynthia had mentioned it once or twice, too. Now she was nearly a teenager, Cecily knew what WAIL was about, and although she thought they had some odd ideas, she was very sympathetic with the general principle: girls should not play Quidditch. One only had to look around the Crotalus commons to know that was true. Gwen Carey played Quidditch, and she was notoriously insane. Those Warren idiots liked to play, and Renaye was the most horrible person Cecily had ever met in her entire life. She was sure of it – the violence inherent in the game of Quidditch was all very well and good for boys who needed to let off steam and prove their masculinity, or whatever it was, but it corrupted girls, no questions about it. Girls were supposed to behave like ladies, and Cecily wasn’t naïve to think that there were specific roles for each sex – she wasn’t going to prevent women from going out to work or men from staying home and raising the family – but there had to be some limitations. Men couldn’t have babies, or wear dresses, or sing soprano. Girls shouldn’t play Quidditch.Her mind made up, Cecily selected a seat at an empty table in the Hall. Using her best self-inking quill, she carefully penned a letter.
Dear Madam
I am a student at Sonora Academy. I would like to learn more about your organisation, and would like to educate my Housemates in the proper way for ladies to behave. I would be delighted if you can assist me in sending me some information that I can display in my common room for the perusal and benefit of everyone.
Yours, Cecily Smythe.
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