They Called My Daughter a Trash Can

Before the school stage play performance, my daughter Betty came home clutching a dingy cardboard costume, secretly wiping tears in the corner.

I asked her what role she was playing.

She mumbled quietly, A trash can.

Her teacher posted the program schedule in the group chat, explaining: Every child is important. Trash cans are also part of urban civilization.

But when I clicked on it, I discovered that the school board chairman's daughter was playing the princess, and the PTA president's son was playing the prince.

And my daughter's name was placed at the very bottom of the "Background Props Group."

My daughter's teacher messaged me privately: "Mrs. James, don't be too fussy. Your family hasn't really contributed much to the class."

I looked at the contract on the table that I'd just signed and smiled.

That cardboard costume was hastily thrown together from delivery boxes.

Square and boxy, painted with a layer of gray, with the words "Trash Can" crookedly stuck on the chest.

My daughter Betty stood in the entryway, fingers twisting the hem of her clothes, eyes red as if she'd just been crying.

She's seven years old this year.

Usually she'd feel bad for half a day if her dress hem got a little muddy, but now she clutched that dirty cardboard costume, trying hard to act like it didn't matter.

"Mom, Samantha said this role is important too."

Her voice got smaller and smaller. "Everyone needs to protect the environment, so we need trash cans."

I crouched down and took the cardboard costume from her arms.

The gray paint wasn't completely dry yet and got all over my hands.

I suppressed my anger and asked her, "Didn't you say before that you were going to play the little artist with a paintbrush?"

Half a month ago, she practiced her lines in front of the mirror every night.

"I'm going to paint the sky blue and paint every child into springtime."

One line, she'd practice seriously more than ten times.

She even showed me her sketch.

Rainbows, stages, balloons, and a group of children standing in the center.

She said the teacher praised her drawing as the best and would let her be the opening little artist for Children's Day.

Betty lowered her head.

"Samantha said Christiana is more suitable for the little artist."

"Her dad is the school board chairman. The principal said she has to stand in the center."

I picked up my phone and opened the class group chat.

The program schedule had just been posted: "Childlike Hearts Toward the Future."

Princess: Christiana.

Prince: Mendez.

Little Artist: Christiana.

Flower Team: PTA members' children.

Background Props Group: Betty, Trash Can.

I stared at that line for a long time.

My phone buzzed again. Teacher Samantha sent me a private message.

"Mrs. James, I know you might feel a bit uncomfortable, but children need to adapt to the group."

"Many parents contributed money and effort for our class's Children's Day activity this time."

"You're usually busy with work, don't participate in the PTA, and don't really contribute to the class. The teacher can only consider everything comprehensively."

"The trash can role also has great educational significance. Please don't let your child misunderstand."

I looked at the words "contribute" and almost laughed out loud.

Three hours ago, SUN School had just sent someone to my office to sign the sponsorship contract for the entire Children's Day event with me.

Stage, lighting, live streaming, photography, balloons, interactive gifts.

Total price: eight hundred sixty thousand dollars.

The contract's Party A was James Entertainment under my name.

The school representative had nodded and bowed, saying this Children's Day gala was an important window for showcasing the school's arts education achievements, and hoped we could cooperate long-term.

I only made one request at the time.

Make sure all the children happily celebrate Children's Day.

The representative smiled and said, "Don't worry, Ms. James. Our school has always put children first."

Now it seemed they valued not children, but the parents behind the children.

I didn't immediately reply to Samantha.

I placed the cardboard costume on the table and asked Betty, "Did anyone laugh at you during rehearsal today?"

Tears immediately fell from her eyes.

"Mendez said I was just there on stage for them to throw waste paper at."

"He also stuffed his finished yogurt box into my costume."

"Samantha saw it and said it was part of the performance effect."

My fingers clenched bit by bit.

Betty hurriedly wiped her tears. "Mom, can I not go tomorrow?"

I hugged her. "Go."

Her body stiffened.

I gently stroked her head. "But not to be a trash can."

Early the next morning, I took Betty to school.

The stage had already been set up on the playground.

The main backdrop featured the rainbow and balloons from Betty's drawing.

Even the little sun in the lower right corner that was slightly crooked was exactly the same as in her draft.

But the signature on the backdrop read: Christiana.

I stood at the edge of the playground, staring at those words, and suddenly understood.

Betty hadn't just had her role stolenher artwork had been stolen too.

Samantha saw me, and a flash of impatience crossed her face.

"Mrs. James, parent viewing doesn't start until this afternoon. You can't go backstage right now."

I smiled.

"I'm here to help my child change clothes."

Samantha glanced at the clean white jacket in my hands.

"Didn't we already distribute the costumes?"

As she spoke, she pointed to the cardboard on the ground nearby.

That gray trash can costume had been carelessly thrown in a corner, with footprints from several children next to it.

Betty instinctively hid behind me. Samantha frowned.

"Betty, what are you hiding from? Didn't you agree yesterday that you'd cooperate with the teacher today?"

Her voice wasn't loud, but it was enough for several nearby parents to hear.

PTA president Rachel walked over.

She wore a champagne-colored suit with a volunteer badge pinned to her chest.

"Samantha, you can't spoil children. If they don't understand, you have to teach them."

She glanced at me and smiled lightly.

"So many of us parents have been working tirelessly. Which child hasn't followed the arrangements? Some people don't contribute money or effort, but when it's time to go on stage, they complain about the role."

"How can there be such a good deal?"

Her son Mendez was standing nearby wearing his prince costume.

Hearing his mother backing him up, he immediately made a face at Betty.

"The trash can is here."

"Later I'll throw paper balls at you. You'd better catch them."

Betty's face went pale.

I turned to look at Mendez.

"Who taught you to talk like that?"

Rachel's expression darkened as she pulled her son behind her.

"A child making a joke, and you, an adult, have to make a big deal of it?"

Samantha also spoke up.

"Mrs. James, today is Children's Day. Everyone's happy. Please don't make the atmosphere awkward."

I asked her, "Can a child be happy being called a trash can?"

Samantha's brow twitched.

"It's just a role name."

"Besides, environmental protection themes need someone to play the trash can. Betty has a quiet personality, so she's more suitable."

I took out my phone and opened a screenshot of the original program schedule Betty had shown me last night.

"Then why did it originally say Betty would play the little artist?"

Samantha's expression changed.

"Program adjustments are normal."

Rachel crossed her arms and sneered.

"Mrs. James, I advise you not to make a scene."

"This school isn't run by whoever has the loudest voice."

"Christiana's father is the school board chairman. Our family handled the gift procurement for this Children's Day. Other parents also contributed to class activity fees."

She looked me up and down.

"And you?"

"Besides dropping off and picking up your child on time, what else have you done?"

"You don't contribute resources but want your child to have center stage. Isn't that teaching your child to freeload?"

I suddenly laughed.

"So children's roles are assigned based on parent contributions."

Samantha immediately interrupted.

"I didn't say that."

But Rachel didn't think she'd said anything wrong.

"Pretty much."

"That's how society works. Letting children understand early isn't a bad thing."

"Children with resources get more opportunities. Children without resources learn to cooperate. When she grows up, she'll thank us for letting her adapt to society early."

She said it so righteously.

Although Samantha didn't respond, she didn't refute it either.

I looked down at Betty.

She was clutching my hand, her little face deathly pale.

I crouched down and smoothed the stray hair from her forehead.

"Did you hear that?"

"It's not that you're not good enough."

"It's that they're dirty themselves and call their disgustingness 'reality.'"

Betty stared at me blankly.

Rachel's expression turned ugly.

"Who are you calling dirty?"

I stood up.

"Whoever feels guilty knows who I'm talking about!"

Samantha, probably afraid I'd keep making a scene, reached out to pull Betty.

"Go change first. The performance is about to start."

Betty took a step back.

"Teacher, I don't want to play the trash can."

Samantha's expression completely turned cold.

"Betty, what did the teacher tell you yesterday?"

"Group activities can't have problems because of one person."

"Your mother doesn't understand, so you have to not understand too?"

Tears welled up in Betty's eyes.

Mendez quietly laughed nearby.

"If you don't perform, you won't get a Children's Day gift."

Rachel lightly patted Mendez's head.

"Mendez, don't talk nonsense."

But her face clearly showed indulgence.

Just then, the backstage curtain was pulled open and a little girl in a white gauze dress ran out.

Wearing a crown on her head and holding a paintbrush in her handit was the school board chairman's daughter, Christiana.

She saw Betty and wrinkled her nose.

"Samantha, why hasn't she changed into the trash can yet?"

"After I finish painting the rainbow at the opening, I need to throw the waste paper in."

"If she doesn't stand there, where am I supposed to throw it?"

Children speak without restraint, but some children's malice never grows from nothing.

Samantha quickly coaxed her.

"Christiana, don't worry. It'll be ready soon."

She turned to look at me and lowered her voice.

"Mrs. James, please don't make this difficult for me."

"The school board chairman and principal will be here soon. We can't mess up the program."

I asked, "Who set the program?"

Samantha didn't answer.

Rachel clicked her tongue impatiently.

"What exactly do you want?"

"It's just a role. If you're dissatisfied, why didn't you join the PTA in the first place?"

"Our family alone advanced tens of thousands for gift procurement for this Children's Day."

"Christiana's family donated a dance studio to the school."

"What right does your child have to compete with them?"

Just as I was about to retort, Principal Antoine walked over with several administrators.

He was all smiles. "Why is everyone gathered here?"

Rachel immediately went up to him.

"Principal Antoine, it's nothing serious."

"A parent is dissatisfied with her child's role assignment and is making a scene here."

Samantha also added in a low voice.

"Mrs. James isn't cooperating with the school's work and is interfering with the program."

Principal Antoine looked at me, his smile fading a bit.

"Parent, today is the school-wide Children's Day performance. City officials will also be here."

"If you have any issues, we can communicate after the event."

"Please don't disrupt normal order right now."

I looked at him.

"What if the problem is your order itself?"

Principal Antoine's face darkened.

"Parents need to watch what they say."

"Our SUN School has been running for many years. We prioritize children's comprehensive development above all."

Rachel sneered nearby.

"Principal Antoine, don't waste words on her."

"Some parents are like thisthey don't support the school normally, but make a big deal out of everything."

"We can't indulge this kind of attitude."

Samantha, as if finding a backer, reached for the trash can costume on the ground.

"Betty, go change."

Betty didn't move.

Samantha's voice rose.

"Betty!"

"If you don't change, today's entire class program will be delayed because of you."

"When your classmates blame you, don't come crying to the teacher."

Betty was so scared she trembled. I gripped her shoulder.

"No need to change."

Principal Antoine frowned.

"Security, please escort this parent to the waiting room."

Two security guards were about to step forward.

My phone rang. The caller was my assistant.

"Ms. James, the lighting team has completed final testing, and the live streaming link is also set up."

"The school is urging us to send the final payment confirmation."

I looked at Principal Antoine and pressed speakerphone.

"Don't send it yet."

My assistant paused.

"What do you mean?"

I said, "Notify the on-site execution team. James Entertainment is withdrawing all stage, lighting, live streaming, photography, and gift sponsorship for this Children's Day performance. Now!"