It was the year 1913 in the United Kingdom. For as far back into her young nine years that Jenny could remember, her mother was a suffragette. It took her years before she could pronounce the word right, let alone know what it meant. At first, Jenny thought it meant going to large parties outside where groups of women wore banners and yelled as they marched down the streets carrying signs. Then she thought it meant being a criminal. She saw suffragettes starving, being chained to trees, and being dragged off by the police. Jenny lived in fear for a short time that the police would knock on her door and lock her sweet mum away.
It wasn't until she was nine that she understood what being a suffragette meant. All those days of marching with women, carrying heavy signs, and watching the crowds around her finally made sense. Her mum didn't want to be a boy, but she wanted to be treated equal. She wanted to vote and be treated with respect. Nothing sounded wrong with that.
Jenny was so inspired that she wanted to be a suffragette, just like her mum. She went to school with a sash around her waist and told all her friends what she had learned. The boys in her class, picking up what they had learned their dads say, told Jenny she should leave the thinking to men and stay in the kitchen where she belonged. This caused Jenny to shout at the boys all the more. Once she caused so much disruption that she was sent to the principal, who called her father, who was upset that he was now embarrassed by both of his girls. Jenny didn't care. She sat in the back seat with her arms folded and a smile on her face. She had suffered like her mum and had become a true suffragette.
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