Here it is: how I got Horrible Histories banned from my school.
Sit down, Iām going to tell you a story.
Imagine a little girl, a 4ā9ā fifth grader with dimples and twinkling blue eyes. Oh, look, sheās going to the school library. Perhaps sheās going to rent Little Women, or read On the Banks of Plum Creek by Laura Ingalls Wilder!
Five minutes later, she exits the library holding a large stack of books called āHorrible Histories.ā
And sheās thumbing through one called āAngry Aztecs.ā
Record scratch. Freeze frame.
Yup, thatās me! The only history geek in a fifty mile radius. Living in Bumhicksville, Nowhere (name changed, but very accurate) is pretty terrible, and going to school at Caucasian Christian School of Goodness (again, a name change, but an apt description) is even worse. I snapped a bit while I was attending, due to the lack of permissible self-expression, but horrible histories were my guiding light.
Flash forward six months.
Our teacher wants us to do a history project about an ancient civilization. Since our curriculum is Eurocentricism.JPEG, most kids pick the Greeks or Romans (and completely skip over all of the good stuff, like orgies and gladiator fights) in their presentations.
I choose my favorite ancient civilization:
My teachers knew Iād been reading Horrible Histories, but what they didnāt know was that Iād also been avidly reading all about Aztec mythology. I walk up to the front of the class, pull on a turquoise skull mask, and raise my arms to the sky.
My teacher goes sheet white.
I give my presentation and skip nothing. Nothing. Every detail of the sacrifices, every dirty, disgusting part.
It all culminates when I point to the calendar.
āItās May!ā I shout, my little girl voice rising an octave. My teacher looks like sheās about to phone the police. āThe Aztecs called May Toxcatl.ā
No one moves or breathed. I continue blithely.
āToxcatl was a month dedicated to the worship of the god of the night, Tezcatlipoca.ā Iām still going. Everyone is afraid. Marie, one of my classmates, looks like sheās about to cry.
āTheyād dress a brave warrior as the god all year, and at the end-ā I pull the red streamers out from behind my display, shouting: āTheyād sacrifice him!ā
The kids shriek as the streamers of ābloodā roll out across the floor.
The principal walked in, hearing the commotion, just in time for me to really get into character and shout āBLOOD FOR THE GOD OF THE NIGHT!ā
And thatās how Horrible Histories and all mentions of the Aztecs were banned from my school.
s-u-f-j-a-n-s-t-e-v-e-n-s
