I, Mary Sue

[sciencewizard]

J.J. Pomeroi was James Kirk crossed with Xena Warrior Princess and a healthy helping of Yu Shuh Lien. She lived in a montage of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and Star Trek, with occasional field trip to Star Wars, Schindler's List, and Casablanca. She wore her hair in a ponytail for all those years, carried her trusty sword on her back as she captained her starship, lived fast, and never aged past forty-twoish, because anyone that old should be watching their cholesterol, dancing the polka, and starting every sentence with, "Aarg, when I was your age..." (Sigh. I hada token black guy, a token Hispanic guy, but not one token geezer. The prejudices we discover...) Anyway, she was a Type A Mary Sue, and I never denied it. That's why I never shared her adventures with anyone except my trusty partner, who actually liked them.

But now I'm intrigued. J.J. Pomeroi was the embodiment of everything I wanted to be. She battled my fears and kicked the asses of my enemies. Behind all that ninja-fighting, I can see my own desires recorded.

I wanted to be found worthy of honor and respect by those with high standards. That was what the whole Klingon story arc was all about, underneath all the gratuitous swordplay. I wanted to have the skills that they would respect. I wanted them to look at me and see an equal.

I wanted to be logical and self-controlled. This was what my Sue learned from her Vulcan master in addition to all those martial arts. I wanted to be calm and smart in a crisis, and not let my personal feelings (or interests) dictate my course of action.

I wanted to inspire loyalty. J.J. Pomeroi had a core of faithful crew members who would follow her anywhere.

I wanted to mentor others. I had forgotten about my official rank of "captain's protegee." From almost the first adventure, I had some young rising ensign whom my Sue would mentor in the ways of command, responsibility, bravery, and ass-kicking. This mentee was an essential part of the operation and would always grow into an officer that made me proud.

I wanted to break the record and be the youngest ever. Specifically, the youngest captain ever. I wanted to be in the center seat by the time I was thirty. I wanted to lead and command and be successful at it straight out of school.

I wanted to make the galaxy safe for women. The sexual-assault in the workplace story still gives me the heebie-jeebies. I used J.J. Pomeroi to smash the glass ceiling and make sure a female officer could do anything she wanted to do without fear of harassment. Would that the rest of us could accomplish this by kicking a few butts and flying off into the sunset.

I wanted to be on the front line. Never, ever promote your star captain to admiral. S/he'll be bored stiff. I wanted to stay on the starship, exploring the galaxy and protecting the Alliance from the scum of the universe. I never aspired to be the one giving the orders.

I wanted to be famous, notorious, and indispensable... but not the top of the pile. I was never the flagship captain or the leader of the Fleet. I was always too weird or too badass to be trusted with real power. I had my own little sphere of influence and never cultivated any more ambition than that. All I asked was a tall white ship and a star to sail her by.

And you know, I seem to have accomplished most of them. I may not be able to kick Klingon ass, but...

I am worthy of honor and respect by those with high standards. I have earned the respect of my notoriously high-minded department chair, and Lord High Senior Rabbi invited me to teach a Bible class this fall. As far as sheer pedagogy goes, I do the job I've been hired to do, and i do it well.

Logic is as logic does. In a real crisis, I can make a plan of action. I am capable of critical self-analysis. now I just need to rein in my temper when I am short on sleep.

Inspiring loyalty in the student body... check. There are fewer of them now that my temper has lashed out a few times, but I have a core of faithful little Klingons who will follow me anywhere.

I wanted to mentor others... check. It feels nice to see that even Mary Sue was incomplete without someone to teach.

I may not own my own starship, but... Well, I'm not yet thirty, and already I'm a byword in the school community. People say to my husband, "Is there anything your wife can't do?" I run the entire physics program and don't have to answer to anyone. I've still got a long way to go in becoming the teacher I can be, but in the meantime, I seem to have done a pretty damn good job.

I wanted to make the galaxy safe for women... hmm. Still have a lot of work to do on this one, I guess. I'm a good role model for the students, so I'm told, but I'm not doing anything about the gender balance in the upper level science and math courses. I wish I knew what I could do.

Ambition is for paperpushers. I have no desire to be a department chair. Waste of a good teacher, say I. I want to be in there with the kids, not calling parents and signing budget reports.

I wanted to be famous, notorious, and indispensable... check. I'm all over the Purim spiels and all over the yearbook. Kids know and like me. And I like them.

That feels nice. I like who I am. That is a rare thing in life.