Part 2The Orphan Who Refused to Starve

At school, they often showed us viral videos designed to teach us about humility and sharing.

One video featured a mom, a dad, and a little boy. The dad and the boy each had a slice of pizza, but the mom had none. The mom stared at the boy with pathetic, pleading eyes. The boy hesitated, then pushed his slice into his mother’s hands.

The background music swelled with manipulative piano chords. The comments on the screen praised the boy’s beautiful soul.

I watched it and felt nothing but profound annoyance.

Why was there not enough pizza?

Why were the parents running a psychological test on a child?

What exactly was the point?

Aside from stories of sacrifice, the teachers loved the cake-cutting scenario.

"There is one cake and three children," the teacher asked the class. "How do you cut it so everyone gets a fair share?"

The other kids scrambled to figure out how to divide a circle into perfect thirds.

I simply said I would cut the cake in half. I’d keep one half for myself, then divide the remaining half between the other two kids.

The teacher stared at my worksheet, her brow furrowing so deeply it looked like crumpled paper.

"Stella, why did you give yourself the biggest piece?"

I didn't flinch. "Because it’s my cake."

"Right, it’s your cake. But why distribute it like that?"

I looked her dead in the eye, enunciating every word.

"It is my cake. I will divide it however I please. If I want cake, I’ll give myself more. If I don't want it, I’ll give it all away. Is there a problem?"

The teacher was stunned into silence.

After a long moment, she crouched down to my eye level.

"It’s not a problem here, sweetie. But if you act like this out in the real world, you’re going to end up getting hurt."

"Hurt?"

"Yes. If you act like this when you get adopted, your new mom and dad might think you’re being selfish. They might stop loving you." Her voice was impossibly gentle.

But her words made absolutely no sense to me.

"If their love comes with conditions," I said, "then I don't need their love."

The teacher opened her mouth, closed it, and walked away.