The Legacy

Tonight was the night. After years of preparation and dreaming, like the three generations of women before her she was ready. She was about to become part of an age old tradition set forth by her great grandmother.

The Lilies of the Guild were an old women’s group that took their everyday activities and put them underground. They came from the top families. The women had a lot of influence over their communities thanks to their family connections, their marriages, education and power. They chose the top girls from the top families to be tapped their second year at university.

The girls had to be kept trim and clean. The girls were always active growing up and knew the ways of the world before even entering high school. Many spoke more than one language and more than likely was sent to that country to learn it. They should be lean and able to match the personality of any man. The young lady must be well taught, well spoken, and well… white.

The Lilies had always, like their name, been white since they started in 1870. Blair Milkwood’s great grandmother Rebecca was part of the intake of 1893. Her grandmother Elliot was part of the intake of 1938 and her mother Margret was part of the intake of 1983. Here is was 2009 and Blair was waiting to be tapped.

She aggressively sent letters to members since high school. She had her mother and grandmother recently write letters of recommendation. She had her great grandmothers pledge pin. An antique coveted by women who had being in the Guild longer than she had been alive. She had been prepared and trained.

She was never too loud, always wore demure colors and clothing and tried her hardest not to draw undue attention to herself. She tried blending into the back ground as much as possible.

She wanted to prove to her mother and rest of her family that she belonged.

One day in late November, Blair was woke from her day dream by a tap on the hip. She was handed something round and smooth in her palm. It was a clear stone with a lily etched into it.

She knew to go back to her dorm, dress in the traditional black knee length dress, (daring at one time, not so much now) arranges her long her into a bun, no jewelry, black pumps and wait.

After a couple of hours, there was a knock at her door. A girl a little older than her stood silently and waited for her to follow.

She knew she was headed to the interview process. They already knew her. They were waiting on her.

In a small barely lit room, five young ladies sat around a single chair. They wouldn’t ask about money, they knew she had it. They knew she was a legacy and her personal track record, so what was there left to ask about she wondered.

“You know our requirements?” One asked.

“Yes” Blair answered.

“Then why are you here?” another asked.

“If I become part of this illustrious sisterhood, I would not only follow your traditions, I would keep a tradition going in my own family”

“With all of your prior knowledge of our organization, tell us of your linage.” The one in the middle requested.

“Well my great grandmother-“ Blair started.

“No” said the middle member, “Tell us about your parents, your mother and father.”

She was hopping in some vain attempt they would over look this part.

“My mother is Margret Milkwood, pledge class of 1983” she started.

“And your father?” the group asked.

“My birth father was a man that rapped my mother while her husband was out of town.”

“And?” They asked.

“And he was Black” She released.

“That’s right, and according to our wants, needs and traditions, we will not need you.”

“But I’m legacy! I already know so much!” She stammered. “I need this. You can do whatever you want to me. Mold me how you want to! I just need this one thing!”

“But if we do this for you, just think of the floodgate that will open. I will not be the one to break tradition.

“But you are making my break tradition. How will I tell my mother, my grandmother, my aunts, my cousins?

“Sister Margret and Sister Elliot have already been notified”

“So you knew before you tapped me?”

“Yes, but we wanted to end your suffering”

“I’m suffering now! I can’t be rejected anymore. The only reason my father allowed me to live was because he couldn’t have children. I’m a reject in my own family! Now, you do this to me? NO! You’re taking me!”

“No we are not.” said an outside voice. It was her mother. She had been in the room in the shadows the whole time.

“I’ve had to deal with you for 19 years, share my life, and my home. This I will not share with you. You’re my daughter, but I refuse to allow you to be my sister.” Her mother told her.

“I will have this! I took etiquette classes and ballet. Instead of having friends I liked, I had tea with old women six times my age. I was an ice queen to the rest of the girls because they weren’t “lily like”. I only dated boys with blood bluer than mine, and all they wanted to do was feel me up! You took over my life and you’re ripping this away from me? I earned this! You will give me my pass!” Blair declared.

“You can’t have everything you want in life dear” her mother told her.

“Well mother, you did. You got the marriage, money and the child. Even when you weren’t suppose to have it all, you did. Give me this!”

“What are you willing to give?” one of the young women asked her.

“What do you want? My family and my money are already tied in.”

“You must give us you. We control where you work, your marriage, when you have children.

She pondered this thought of emotional slavery. She would never have the freedom of falling in love, the choice of rather of not to have children. She could never have the job she wanted if she was even allowed to work at all. How can she go through life without the freedom of freedom! All of her choices, rights, thoughts, all out the window for what? To be a part of a group of women that do nothing with their lives but rule over others the way they were ruled over. What kind of life is that?

On the other hand, there is not thinking and everything is handed to you. In about 30 years she could be one of these women controlling these young girls’ lives. That is including the life of her unborn daughter. She would be guaranteed a rich husband and a good job. Everyone knows it is the woman that rules the home.

“I’ve lived a shallow life thus far. I could keep it going.”