Marinette had always expected that the first person to learn she was Ladybug would be her partner or possibly her best friend. She never expected it to be Chloe Bourgeois of all people.
When Ladybug stumbled into the quiet corner, her earrings beeping out their final warning, she assumed she was alone. That was until she bumped into Chloe as her transformation fell and knocked both of them over, leaving Marinette sprawled across Chloe’s stomach.
They locked eyes for a moment, and Marinette held her breath, terrified to see Chloe’s reaction to learning that she, of all people, was Ladybug. Chloe shrieked.
“Wait, don’t yell!” Marinette clamped a hand over Chloe’s mouth. “Look, you can’t tell anyone, and you can’t yell.”
Chloe didn’t even scold Marinette for smudging her lip gloss. She just pushed Marinette’s hand away and launched into a breathless series of questions. “You’re Ladybug? Really? You’ve been Ladybug all along? You saved my life!”
Marinette sat back, raising a brow as she eyed Chloe. “Yes, yes, yes, and of course, I did. I’m a hero.”
“I can’t believe I’m friends with Ladybug!” Chloe squealed, as though the past five years of constant belittling and selfish behavior simply hadn’t happened. She even sat up and pulled Marinette into a hug.
“Whoa, hold on.” Marinette pried herself free. “We’re not friends.”
Marinette had no idea how to explain to those wide blue eyes why the idea of them being friends was so ridiculous, so instead, she elected to stand and turn around. “We need to get back to class.”
When Trump vowed on the campaign trail to Make America Great Again, he was generally unclear about when exactly it stopped being great. The Vanderbilt University historian Jefferson Cowie tells a story that points to a possible answer. In his book “The Great Exception,” he suggests that what historians considered the main event in 20th century American political development — the rise and consolidation of the “New Deal order” — was in fact an anomaly, made politically possible by a convergence of political factors. One of those was immigration. At the beginning of the 20th century, millions of impoverished immigrants, mostly Catholic and Jewish, entered an overwhelmingly Protestant country. It was only when that demographic transformation was suspended by the 1924 Immigration Act that majorities of Americans proved willing to vote for many liberal policies. In 1965, Congress once more allowed large-scale immigration to the United States — and it is no accident that this date coincides with the increasing conservative backlash against liberalism itself, now that its spoils would be more widely distributed among nonwhites.