But, of course, Elizabeth Ann Margaret didn’t even have the grace to look slightly embarrassed.
“So he’s deaf?” Elizabeth Ann Margaret asked, whispering the word “deaf” as if it was some kind of scandal.
“No,” I answered. Then before she or Asher could ask me any more questions, I called out to everyone else that we should probably get on with the rest of the presentations.
A few more people in the second half, then it was time for me to close out the show.
We all watched as my father’s ancestors go from apes to humans in the cradle of civilization before spreading out across the continent of Africa. After that, my mother’s ancestors in Korea transform from a scattering of Neolithic clans into a series of dynastic societies. Meanwhile, ships with slaves aboard sail across oceans to deliver my father’s ancestors into slavery. And then both my mother’s and father’s birth countries take turns waging bloody civil wars.
The montage of Korean and American history ends with a black American soldier spotting a young Korean woman working with her parents behind a farmstand.
Their eyes connect…and they both smile.
And that was where the animation ended.
A hush fell over the room after the lights were brought up. I wasn’t sure if it was good or bad. But then, Harlow wiped tears from her eyes and led the class in clapping.
It was a little embarrassing to tell the truth. I wasn’t used to so much attention. My face heated, and I had to raise my eyes to look away from everyone who was applauding.
But then, my heart nearly stopped when I saw Victor standing in the living room’s arched doorway, clapping along with everybody else. How long had he been here? Had he seen my film?
“Your film was amazing,” he signed, letting me know he had. “No black history museum required.”
I grinned at his compliment, nearly giddy with happiness that he’d shown up as I signed back, “Thanks for coming.”
It was just a few signs, but Asher took notice. He cut off clapping and turned to look over his shoulder. His expression went from delighted to annoyed when he saw Victor standing in the living room’s doorway. But I couldn’t bring myself to feel guilty. I was just so elated to see Victor there.
There were more compliments after the applause died down. Then people started asking the hard questions. Wallis wondered if this were too big of a subject for the short eight minutes I’d given it. And Wei-Chuan asked if I was trying to say that these two people falling in love made up for the horrors of their history.
“I’d hope the short length of the film would serve to magnify the scope of the large history for both Koreans and black Americans,” I answered Wallis.
And I told Wei-Chuan, “No, nothing makes up for that history. What I wanted to explore in this film was the beauty that comes despite the horrors of the past. Kind of like the flowers that grow in the cracks of concrete. I think it’s fascinating that love bloomed for my parents after everything their ancestors had gone through. Actually, I think it’s fascinating that love blooms for anyone. No matter how much pain humans cause each other.”
It wasn’t intentional, but my eyes connected with Victor’s as I said that last part.
There were a few more questions after that. Then, Elizabeth Ann Margaret, who hadn’t said a word about my project, spotted Victor standing in the doorway.
“It’s Dawn’s husband!” she announced to everyone as if a special guest star had just come through.
Everybody turned toward the doorway to thank him for the food he’d provided.
Victor just smiled and gave a humble bow.
“We’re almost done here,” I quickly signed while everyone was turned toward him. “Ice cream after I kick everyone out?”
He nodded and gave everyone a wave and a slight bow before disappearing up the stairs.
I figured that was as good of a segue to everybody leaving as any.
I was relieved that everything had gone off without a hitch. And that Victor got to see me in my element. I hoped he was proud of me. That he could see now that the money he’d given me hadn’t gone to waste.
I was also relieved to see Elizabeth Ann Margaret’s back as I held the door open for everyone to leave. She was the first to go through, claiming loudly that she had a Bumble date with a Directing grad from Brown.
But Asher, who was at the end of the line, hung back with a, “Hey, can we talk about the last few moments of Love Origins. I just had a few narrative notes.”
He closed the door with him still inside before I could answer, effectively shutting the rest of the group out of the conversation.
“What’s up, Asher?” I asked, lowering my voice to a near whisper. I was deeply aware of Victor’s presence upstairs. And though Asher only wanted to give me a note or two, it still felt like I was doing something wrong just by talking to him.
