Wednesday, 10 March 2010
Following last week's meeting with the school administration staff, a schedule has been set up for the GAGA 'executive board' to meet regularly with the principal, or assistant principal(s), to discuss current issues of harassment as perceived by students. First, of course, we had to name an 'executive board'. Most of the girls named me to it. I refused, of course, but then saw their point, that as one of the eldest students involved in this (my birthday being in December) I should have some sense of wisdom to impart here. Also, whether they like me or not (there is ample evidence on both sides), the assistant principals both know me and how to deal with me. So, I accepted.
The rest of the weekly delegation shall consist of Becky as recording secretary, one of Jessy's classmates acting sort of as 'vice president" (though I certainly throw off the suggestion that I am therefore the 'president' --I prefer 'paralegal' --ha!) and two floating delegates who are to be chosen by agenda at the preceding GAGA meeting (which is on Thursday afternoon) so that all members of GAGA have the opportunity to participate at least partly in the process. You'd be surprised how many of these girls don't really want to be 'on the front lines' in these administration meetings. Then you might be surprised about which girls actually do want to be.
Becky has developed into an intimidating force for righteousness. Even though she only takes notes, she has had a lot to contribute at the preparatory meetings we've had over the last week. This afternoon on her way down the gallery to the meeting she was swinging her clipboard under her arm and whistling 'When Johnny Goes Off To War Again' --which in itself is kind of scary, but, of course, also funny. She is thrilled to be part of a process by which she can leave a legacy on people who might otherwise never have noticed her. And, of course, she is very responsible towards that legacy and I am sure it will only be positive.
My sister Jessy couldn't really care less. She sat in on last week's meeting and because she chose to not sit in on this week's she kind of initiated the floating-delegate concept. This is good, though, because it does give other girls a chance and because, in her softhearted, egalitarian way, she refuses to allow there to be any kind of hierarchy in the GAGA movement. All girls are equal-- they should not have to defer to others' voices all the time. And she is right about that, and that's really the whole point of GAGA in the first place.
Today's meeting was to establish certain terms, definitions of things like 'harassment' as opposed to 'bullying' (one is inadvertent and careless, and one is deliberate and nasty) and a process for registering complaints, especially anything that happens between meetings. We did all agree that nothing a student considers either 'bullying' or 'harassment' should be shelved till some arbitrary time like the next GAGA meeting. It has to be stopped at the very moment it happens. ('What's right to be done can never be done too soon' --Jane Austen.) The APs assured us they would handle such issues just like any other behaviour problem, with the same degree of timeliness and severity as they've always considered appropriate.
It's important to remember that our complaint is not that our APs act too slowly or too leniently. They don't. Our complaint is that they do not recognise that some of the age-old policies of this school are in themselves the problems we girls face. This is a quiet, rural, working-class area, and people just aren't attuned to racism or sexism the way Jessy and I are used to. And you might think it's not a problem, but being a girl I have seen how some girls feel absolutely belittled by what everyone else, even female teachers, thinks is just 'the way things are'. So we hope to do is show how people-- everyone, from the superintendent on down to the newest freshmen-- can demonstrate sincere respect for each other and therefore receive more respect for themselves as well. And, of course, part of that means treating a young lady like a young lady.
The really sad part of all this is that Jessy and I, and, by extension, our parents, have been accused of being 'liberal Northerners' and even by some people we might have thought had more respect and even admiration for our differences. So let me make this perfectly clear-- I may have been born about 11 miles north of the Mason-Dixon line, but I have spent all my life (but the two years in England) living south of it. And my father is about as liberal as Margaret Thatcher. In spite of being in the rock-and-roll music business, he did grow up under the 1980s concept of 'compassionate conservatism' and really does live the ideal of 'noblesse oblige' --the absolute requirement that the good people must do the right thing. If you knew him personally, you would quickly put aside the longish hair and the ripped jeans and the (sometimes shockingly) up-to-date vocabulary and especially the super-distortion guitar volume, and you would see a real, bona-fide, dyed-in-the-wool old-fashioned Christian gentleman, someone George Washington or Robert Walpole would definitely respect. And Mother, 23 years younger than he, is no less the traditional country lady with her homemade pies and gentle Old-World sweetness and her devout love for the divinity of Jesus-- and her impassioned ferocity whenever she sees anything even slightly unfair. So as compassionate conservatives, we donate liberally (of our own free will and to whom we choose), keep the neighbourhood roads and greenways clean, conserve energy as well as money, refrain from polluting from the lawn, pool, rubbish, or boats, and most especially practise respect towards everyone else, whether 'less fortunate' or not, regardless of race, heritage, native language, or gender identity. The good people do the right thing-- and no so-called liberal ought to disagree with that, whichever way we happen to vote.
In this way the GAGA movement reminds me of President Lincoln, who insisted that 'noblesse oblige' rule the day--
'Fondly do we hope, fervently do we pray, that this mighty scourge of war may speedily pass away. Yet, if God wills that it continue until all the wealth piled by the bondsman's two hundred and fifty years of unrequited toil shall be sunk, and until every drop of blood drawn with the lash shall be paid by another drawn with the sword, as was said three thousand years ago, so still it must be said "the judgments of the Lord are true and righteous altogether.'
If it takes another four years of GAGA girls standing up for respect and sitting down arguing with administrators till all girls in this county feel comfortable and safe and respected at school and in their community, as they always ought to have felt over all of the last 200 years, like ladies whose reputations are as important to them as a man's pride, then none of that time and effort is wasted. Lincoln would have agreed-- in fact, his Second Inaugural Address shows that he did.
And, for what it's worth, Lincoln was not a liberal! [wink]
...
Showing posts with label club. Show all posts
Showing posts with label club. Show all posts
15 March 2010
22 January 2010
Girls Against Grobians Association
Friday, 15 January 2010
Our meeting was organised on very last-minute notice-- basically Jessy and I spoke to as many girls as we could, especially those whom we thought would be sympathetic to Sherry's situation. By the way, that was about every girl in the school, whether they're dating or not, whether they've ever dated or not, even if they've never been kissed or have done it all the time, because it's not the rule about Public Displays of Affection we're riled-up against, but the way Sherry (and I) got treated because of it.
And we invited everyone to our house-- our house, because it's got the only rec room we know of that can hold 25 girls for any kind of actual meeting. After school we were able to use someone's mom's minivan and we borrowed a bunch of folding chairs from church. We set them up in the rec room, round the long table that we usually use for a buffet. Mother prepared a side table of homemade cookies and fruit punch and soda with ice and paper cups and coloured napkins. People started arriving at about 6.45. By 7.15, thirty-one girls had showed up, including Jessy and me and the seven other girls of the club, who were sort of hosting it, so that's two dozen girls we didn't know would be even slightly interested.
Looking out over the room I realised we had a pretty good cross-section of the best people at school-- honour-roll girls, band girls, theatre girls, athlete girls, a couple of cheerleaders and even a few who are not known for great grades or great involvement but who are typically maligned for their looks or by their boyfriends or maybe just because they are not so stellar as students.
As president of the club I started it like we would usually start a regular meeting, and then we went off our formal agenda and gave a report on what had happened with Sherry, what had happened in Mr H--'s office when he called me down, and what had happened when Jessy and Paulette and Rita had brought flowers and a cupcake down to Sherry in the detention room after lunch. The girls were all impressed by that-- they had not all heard of it. In fact no one seemed anything but interested. I mean they were sitting at the edge of their chairs hearing what Sherry and I and Jessy had to say.
Before taking questions I made the loaded proposal that we girls-- 'young ladies' as I called us-- had both the right and the responsibility to do something, to say something, to request a change in the way the whole school, even the administration, treats us. I said that civility at the school is at an all-time low, that even the teachers do not show us the respect we deserve, and that the crime of getting unexpectedly kissed in the cafeteria is nothing compared to the crime of just wearing a skirt to school or using good manners and speaking English properly. At that half the girls in our rec room reacted with agreement. 'We all know the boys are guilty of it too,' I said, 'but it starts with the administration and faculty. We can expect a bunch of churlish imbeciles to treat a lady poorly. We should not have to put up with it from adults who should be setting a better example.'
The girls all agreed with this at once. Then someone asked, 'But what can we do about it? You know if we said anything, they'd just make light of it or brush it under the carpet.'
'We insist,' I said. 'We stand up to it and demand to be treated with respect. Look, we're not asking to be treated like goddesses. None of us is perfect. But we deserve to be treated like a little better than just air-breathing mammals with mammaries.'
They all looked up at me when I said that. One or two giggled a little. But they all knew what I meant.
Jessy said, 'Has anyone here ever been cursed at, or treated rudely, or like your feelings don't matter? By anyone at school?'
Hands went up. No one didn't raise her hand. I smiled round the room at everyone. 'So... wouldn't you like to do something about it?'
'How do we insist?' someone asked.
'We act like we deserve it. We behave like ladies. We dress properly. We speak properly. We treat other people with respect, even if they don't respect us. We... intimidate them.'
Girls all looked up at that. I honestly think they had never expected they had the power to do that. Maybe they just didn't read enough Jane Austen!
'Look,' I said, 'maybe most of you don't really know about me... and my sister, but we were raised to believe there is power in being a lady. No one can deny you that-- only you can deny it. If you act like you don't care how you're treated, expect to be treated badly, because you're letting people do it. But if you act like you expect to be treated like you deserve....' I smiled at everyone again. 'The most powerful thing in the world is a pleasant-looking young woman with good manners and half a brain.'
They were all silent as they contemplated that. Finally someone said, 'That sounds so old-fashioned.'
Other people giggled. 'Yes,' I said, 'it is.'
'And what's wrong with that?' Rita finally said. 'You know it's what we all want to be. Even if it's old-fashioned. Why is it bad?'
'It's not bad,' someone said.
'It sounds so... simple,' one girl said. 'Sugar and spice and everything nice.'
Girls laughed. I laughed too. 'Yes,' Jessy said, 'but that's exactly what it is.'
One girl whom we did not know well spoke up. 'Well, that's fine for you,' she said, looking at Jessy. 'You ARE sugar and spice and everything nice. You're disgusting.'
People laughed. 'Disgusting' is what some girls call other girls who are a little too appealing, too sweet, too cute. Jessy is like that--a little TOO perfect. She was blushing. 'She also doesn't date,' one girl pointed out.
Jessy and I looked up then. 'No,' Jessy said bravely, 'I don't.'
'Why not?' someone asked her.
'Because,' said my little sister, 'I haven't met anyone I want to date yet.'
'Picky, picky,' one girl teased, and people laughed.
'What's wrong with being picky?' Rita said, turning on that girl then. 'Is it better to settle for someone who's not as good as you'd like a guy to be?'
The room was silent. Girls thought about that. 'Well, it's only dating,' someone said.
'You could just be lonely,' someone else said.
'I'm not lonely,' Jessy said, defending herself. 'I have my friends, and my family, and I have all of you. I'm never lonely.'
'Yeah,' someone said, 'but we all have... needs.'
Girls giggled at that. Of course I knew what she meant by 'needs'.
'Yes,' I said,' we all have romantic and emotional needs. But all of that becomes so much more valuable when you wait till it's a little closer to perfect.'
'Waiting till marriage?' one girl teased, and people laughed.
I waited till they were all sort of looking back at me and then I said, 'And just what is wrong with that?'
The room went dead quiet. I wasn't blushing. I think that was when I realised just how much power I had. Or, have. 'So what is this,' one girl asked then. 'Virgins anonymous?'
I smiled at that. 'Not anonymous,' I said.
'Coming out of the closet?' someone else teased.
They all looked at me. I sat there with my ankles crossed and my skirt on my knees looking back at them. 'I hardly think it's any big secret. I mean, if you're a nice decent girl from a good family who isn't married... what else would you be?'
They were quiet then. Probably half the room was suddenly feeling a little guilty. The other half of the room was suddenly feeling very empowered.
'I wouldn't have it any other way,' said Rita. 'You know, till I met Janine I had never really thought of it. Then she told me about Henry....' She and I smiled at each other then. 'What was it your stepmother said?'
I nodded at her. 'If he's willing to put a ring on your finger, show up at church, promise in front of all his friends, family, and God to love you for ever, all before he gets to sample the goods, he must really love and respect you.'
People actually sighed at that. (I am not making this up!)
'That's what I want,' Becky said.
'That's what I want too,' Josie said.
'Me too,' someone else said. By this time some of them were sniffling.
I remember a story my stepmother told me about when she had her own apartment at Delaware and she invited a new friend over for tea. She used to play classical music CDs and had a cute old-fashioned sofa and wing chairs and posters of Rococo art on the walls of her little parlour, and she was pouring out for her guest and the girl suddenly broke out into tears and said Mother was just like the way all girls wanted to be when they were about eight years old. And it made her cry, because Mother was still like that, and everyone else had changed. And she said she wanted to be able to get back to that, but she couldn't any more. And Mother told her, 'You can if you truly want to.' And that day her new friend literally changed her life, because Mother was pouring out tea for her in her little parlour.
I am not sure if that kind of epiphany actually occurred here at Terncote, but I like to think it's at least started. Jessy, Rita and I were able to get most of the girls to make a kind of pledge to each other and to themselves that we will all try harder to act more ladylike and to treat each other, and everyone else, with more respect. Everyone in the room promised to not ignore each other in the halls, but rather to say 'Good morning' or 'Hello' whenever we see each other. We promised to tell our friends how much we care for them and to hug each other regularly, even in school-- and so daring the administration to forbid us from showing friendly affection. One girl asked if we had to do the 'lady kiss' --that almost-kiss that the chicks in 'Mean Girls' do so insincerely. I said, 'Only if it's really sincere.'
At once most of the girls said that they wanted to, that it would seem really cool. 'That will really blow them away,' one girl said, and she is right-- it will.
'And we don't tolerate that stupid little "friend hug" that guys insist on,' I said, 'when it's really just an opportunity for guys to look like they can get any number of girls round the middle. It's a form of possession, and they're not entitled to possess us or even look like the do.'
Everyone had something to say about that. Some girls related their experiences with feeling possessed and we all agreed we don't like it.
Later I said, 'We can act as though we don't need rude people-- including guys,' I said. 'I mean, the one thing that will make them all want us more is if we act like we don't need them.'
Girls laughed. They all knew about that one. But it's not playing hard-to-get. It's only behaving with self-confidence and respect.
We also talked about clothes and manners and how to wear a skirt and go up the stairs and how to wear heels and walk in them, and Rita and Jessy both demonstrated how to walk and stand and sit properly and even as they were all fascinated by this-- since I'm pretty sure no-one's ever taught them before-- someone made a joke about going to 'charm school'. And we all laughed. But we did make a pact-- all thirty-three of us-- that we will dress better from now on and behave properly as ladies just to see how it will change how we are treated.
Jessy wanted to make Mondays and Thursdays 'legs days', meaning that we should all wear dresses or skirts, just to resurrect the convention as a form of ladylike behaviour. But actually not everyone has enough wardrobe for that, so we'll meet again after Valentines' to see if we can actually establish that, especially for the warmer weather.
Of course we club girls still wear our club skirts and blue tops on Thursdays. From now on I think the other girls will understand it better.
One of the girls (I do know their names but am not mentioning them all here) stopped me on the way out and said, 'Now I see where you get your reputation.'
I got a little red but asked her, 'What reputation is that?'
'Well,' she said, 'you're... a princess.'
I blushed. 'I am not.'
She laughed. 'But you are, Janine, you are. Everyone thinks so. It's not bad, honest. I think they all secretly admire you.'
I went beet-red then. 'I don't want to be admired!'
'Then why did you invite everyone to your beautiful house and show us how to sit with ankles crossed?'
I shrugged. I felt embarrassed. Was this all about ME after all? 'I just think it's a good thing when young women act properly,' I said. 'It makes it easier for all of us.'
'But, the thing is, it's not that easy. It's hard to act like you deserve respect.'
'Yes it is,' I said.
'It's a challenge,' she said.
I nodded. 'Yes it is.'
She leaned in and gave me a hug and kissed my cheek. 'Thank you,' she whispered. 'I promise we'll be friends.'
I hugged her back straight away. 'I promise too.'
...
Our meeting was organised on very last-minute notice-- basically Jessy and I spoke to as many girls as we could, especially those whom we thought would be sympathetic to Sherry's situation. By the way, that was about every girl in the school, whether they're dating or not, whether they've ever dated or not, even if they've never been kissed or have done it all the time, because it's not the rule about Public Displays of Affection we're riled-up against, but the way Sherry (and I) got treated because of it.
And we invited everyone to our house-- our house, because it's got the only rec room we know of that can hold 25 girls for any kind of actual meeting. After school we were able to use someone's mom's minivan and we borrowed a bunch of folding chairs from church. We set them up in the rec room, round the long table that we usually use for a buffet. Mother prepared a side table of homemade cookies and fruit punch and soda with ice and paper cups and coloured napkins. People started arriving at about 6.45. By 7.15, thirty-one girls had showed up, including Jessy and me and the seven other girls of the club, who were sort of hosting it, so that's two dozen girls we didn't know would be even slightly interested.
Looking out over the room I realised we had a pretty good cross-section of the best people at school-- honour-roll girls, band girls, theatre girls, athlete girls, a couple of cheerleaders and even a few who are not known for great grades or great involvement but who are typically maligned for their looks or by their boyfriends or maybe just because they are not so stellar as students.
As president of the club I started it like we would usually start a regular meeting, and then we went off our formal agenda and gave a report on what had happened with Sherry, what had happened in Mr H--'s office when he called me down, and what had happened when Jessy and Paulette and Rita had brought flowers and a cupcake down to Sherry in the detention room after lunch. The girls were all impressed by that-- they had not all heard of it. In fact no one seemed anything but interested. I mean they were sitting at the edge of their chairs hearing what Sherry and I and Jessy had to say.
Before taking questions I made the loaded proposal that we girls-- 'young ladies' as I called us-- had both the right and the responsibility to do something, to say something, to request a change in the way the whole school, even the administration, treats us. I said that civility at the school is at an all-time low, that even the teachers do not show us the respect we deserve, and that the crime of getting unexpectedly kissed in the cafeteria is nothing compared to the crime of just wearing a skirt to school or using good manners and speaking English properly. At that half the girls in our rec room reacted with agreement. 'We all know the boys are guilty of it too,' I said, 'but it starts with the administration and faculty. We can expect a bunch of churlish imbeciles to treat a lady poorly. We should not have to put up with it from adults who should be setting a better example.'
The girls all agreed with this at once. Then someone asked, 'But what can we do about it? You know if we said anything, they'd just make light of it or brush it under the carpet.'
'We insist,' I said. 'We stand up to it and demand to be treated with respect. Look, we're not asking to be treated like goddesses. None of us is perfect. But we deserve to be treated like a little better than just air-breathing mammals with mammaries.'
They all looked up at me when I said that. One or two giggled a little. But they all knew what I meant.
Jessy said, 'Has anyone here ever been cursed at, or treated rudely, or like your feelings don't matter? By anyone at school?'
Hands went up. No one didn't raise her hand. I smiled round the room at everyone. 'So... wouldn't you like to do something about it?'
'How do we insist?' someone asked.
'We act like we deserve it. We behave like ladies. We dress properly. We speak properly. We treat other people with respect, even if they don't respect us. We... intimidate them.'
Girls all looked up at that. I honestly think they had never expected they had the power to do that. Maybe they just didn't read enough Jane Austen!
'Look,' I said, 'maybe most of you don't really know about me... and my sister, but we were raised to believe there is power in being a lady. No one can deny you that-- only you can deny it. If you act like you don't care how you're treated, expect to be treated badly, because you're letting people do it. But if you act like you expect to be treated like you deserve....' I smiled at everyone again. 'The most powerful thing in the world is a pleasant-looking young woman with good manners and half a brain.'
They were all silent as they contemplated that. Finally someone said, 'That sounds so old-fashioned.'
Other people giggled. 'Yes,' I said, 'it is.'
'And what's wrong with that?' Rita finally said. 'You know it's what we all want to be. Even if it's old-fashioned. Why is it bad?'
'It's not bad,' someone said.
'It sounds so... simple,' one girl said. 'Sugar and spice and everything nice.'
Girls laughed. I laughed too. 'Yes,' Jessy said, 'but that's exactly what it is.'
One girl whom we did not know well spoke up. 'Well, that's fine for you,' she said, looking at Jessy. 'You ARE sugar and spice and everything nice. You're disgusting.'
People laughed. 'Disgusting' is what some girls call other girls who are a little too appealing, too sweet, too cute. Jessy is like that--a little TOO perfect. She was blushing. 'She also doesn't date,' one girl pointed out.
Jessy and I looked up then. 'No,' Jessy said bravely, 'I don't.'
'Why not?' someone asked her.
'Because,' said my little sister, 'I haven't met anyone I want to date yet.'
'Picky, picky,' one girl teased, and people laughed.
'What's wrong with being picky?' Rita said, turning on that girl then. 'Is it better to settle for someone who's not as good as you'd like a guy to be?'
The room was silent. Girls thought about that. 'Well, it's only dating,' someone said.
'You could just be lonely,' someone else said.
'I'm not lonely,' Jessy said, defending herself. 'I have my friends, and my family, and I have all of you. I'm never lonely.'
'Yeah,' someone said, 'but we all have... needs.'
Girls giggled at that. Of course I knew what she meant by 'needs'.
'Yes,' I said,' we all have romantic and emotional needs. But all of that becomes so much more valuable when you wait till it's a little closer to perfect.'
'Waiting till marriage?' one girl teased, and people laughed.
I waited till they were all sort of looking back at me and then I said, 'And just what is wrong with that?'
The room went dead quiet. I wasn't blushing. I think that was when I realised just how much power I had. Or, have. 'So what is this,' one girl asked then. 'Virgins anonymous?'
I smiled at that. 'Not anonymous,' I said.
'Coming out of the closet?' someone else teased.
They all looked at me. I sat there with my ankles crossed and my skirt on my knees looking back at them. 'I hardly think it's any big secret. I mean, if you're a nice decent girl from a good family who isn't married... what else would you be?'
They were quiet then. Probably half the room was suddenly feeling a little guilty. The other half of the room was suddenly feeling very empowered.
'I wouldn't have it any other way,' said Rita. 'You know, till I met Janine I had never really thought of it. Then she told me about Henry....' She and I smiled at each other then. 'What was it your stepmother said?'
I nodded at her. 'If he's willing to put a ring on your finger, show up at church, promise in front of all his friends, family, and God to love you for ever, all before he gets to sample the goods, he must really love and respect you.'
People actually sighed at that. (I am not making this up!)
'That's what I want,' Becky said.
'That's what I want too,' Josie said.
'Me too,' someone else said. By this time some of them were sniffling.
I remember a story my stepmother told me about when she had her own apartment at Delaware and she invited a new friend over for tea. She used to play classical music CDs and had a cute old-fashioned sofa and wing chairs and posters of Rococo art on the walls of her little parlour, and she was pouring out for her guest and the girl suddenly broke out into tears and said Mother was just like the way all girls wanted to be when they were about eight years old. And it made her cry, because Mother was still like that, and everyone else had changed. And she said she wanted to be able to get back to that, but she couldn't any more. And Mother told her, 'You can if you truly want to.' And that day her new friend literally changed her life, because Mother was pouring out tea for her in her little parlour.
I am not sure if that kind of epiphany actually occurred here at Terncote, but I like to think it's at least started. Jessy, Rita and I were able to get most of the girls to make a kind of pledge to each other and to themselves that we will all try harder to act more ladylike and to treat each other, and everyone else, with more respect. Everyone in the room promised to not ignore each other in the halls, but rather to say 'Good morning' or 'Hello' whenever we see each other. We promised to tell our friends how much we care for them and to hug each other regularly, even in school-- and so daring the administration to forbid us from showing friendly affection. One girl asked if we had to do the 'lady kiss' --that almost-kiss that the chicks in 'Mean Girls' do so insincerely. I said, 'Only if it's really sincere.'
At once most of the girls said that they wanted to, that it would seem really cool. 'That will really blow them away,' one girl said, and she is right-- it will.
'And we don't tolerate that stupid little "friend hug" that guys insist on,' I said, 'when it's really just an opportunity for guys to look like they can get any number of girls round the middle. It's a form of possession, and they're not entitled to possess us or even look like the do.'
Everyone had something to say about that. Some girls related their experiences with feeling possessed and we all agreed we don't like it.
Later I said, 'We can act as though we don't need rude people-- including guys,' I said. 'I mean, the one thing that will make them all want us more is if we act like we don't need them.'
Girls laughed. They all knew about that one. But it's not playing hard-to-get. It's only behaving with self-confidence and respect.
We also talked about clothes and manners and how to wear a skirt and go up the stairs and how to wear heels and walk in them, and Rita and Jessy both demonstrated how to walk and stand and sit properly and even as they were all fascinated by this-- since I'm pretty sure no-one's ever taught them before-- someone made a joke about going to 'charm school'. And we all laughed. But we did make a pact-- all thirty-three of us-- that we will dress better from now on and behave properly as ladies just to see how it will change how we are treated.
Jessy wanted to make Mondays and Thursdays 'legs days', meaning that we should all wear dresses or skirts, just to resurrect the convention as a form of ladylike behaviour. But actually not everyone has enough wardrobe for that, so we'll meet again after Valentines' to see if we can actually establish that, especially for the warmer weather.
Of course we club girls still wear our club skirts and blue tops on Thursdays. From now on I think the other girls will understand it better.
One of the girls (I do know their names but am not mentioning them all here) stopped me on the way out and said, 'Now I see where you get your reputation.'
I got a little red but asked her, 'What reputation is that?'
'Well,' she said, 'you're... a princess.'
I blushed. 'I am not.'
She laughed. 'But you are, Janine, you are. Everyone thinks so. It's not bad, honest. I think they all secretly admire you.'
I went beet-red then. 'I don't want to be admired!'
'Then why did you invite everyone to your beautiful house and show us how to sit with ankles crossed?'
I shrugged. I felt embarrassed. Was this all about ME after all? 'I just think it's a good thing when young women act properly,' I said. 'It makes it easier for all of us.'
'But, the thing is, it's not that easy. It's hard to act like you deserve respect.'
'Yes it is,' I said.
'It's a challenge,' she said.
I nodded. 'Yes it is.'
She leaned in and gave me a hug and kissed my cheek. 'Thank you,' she whispered. 'I promise we'll be friends.'
I hugged her back straight away. 'I promise too.'
...
12 January 2010
The crime of a kiss
Tuesday 12 January 2010
I first learned about it when I was summoned to the assistant principal's office. Here in the US the assistant principals (we have two at this school) are responsible for maintaining attendance and discipline. As you might figure the worst-behaved people are most familiar with them. I had never been called to see them before today. A student arrived in my 4th-period maths class bearing a pass and I got up amidst the teasing and jeering feeling like I was about to be guillotined in the square.
I stepped into the office and Mr H-- gestured for me to sit down. I sat, crossed my ankles, arranged the skirt in my lap, and exhaled to calm my breathing. If I felt awkward at least Mr H-- felt more so. He looked about himself for a long moment and then stared straight at me. 'Janine,' he said to me.
'Yes, Sir.'
'Do you have any idea what this is about?'
I shook my head. 'None at all, Sir.'
He looked oddly at me then, as though he had expected a simple No. I suppose I was long enough at HOH (in England) that know how to answer a proper question from a senior school administrator. So he went on to tell me that Sherry, one of my friends (who is in our girls' club) was 'caught' (his word) kissing a boy in the school cafeteria, which is against about three or four school rules (including, if you can believe, the health code) and is facing disciplinary action as soon as Mr H-- can figure out exactly what happened and, as he admitted, who the boy is.
I stared straight at him the whole time he told me this, not out of respect nor anything else but in total disbelief. I know that kissing in the school is against policy. We've discussed what's known as 'PDA' (public displays of affection) in our club meetings. I am very strongly against it, as anyone who knows me can verify. For one thing, it makes other people feel awkward. Just because you can get a date doesn't mean you should ever flaunt in front of other people. Then of course it's form of possession, as though the guy is saying, 'Look what I get to have, and kiss, in front of you, and you don't.' And of course a girl will feel the same thing about a guy. And for another thing it's never really a good kiss-- it's a polite kiss, or more importantly a gesture, being shown to other people, not intended to be particularly pleasant. If you want really good kissing, go somewhere where you're both more comfortable (like a Halloween party in an angel costume-- okay, that's somewhere else in this blog). And, for another, it's disruptive-- it makes people pay attention, not much better than a car wreck on the highway. Also, I guess, from the school's point of view, they don't want to be put in the VERY awkward position of having to determine where a simple 'see you later' kiss ends and where 'making out' begins, so they have to ban all of it-- which I am totally in support of. So I guess the next issue is, if Sherry is in our club-- and had participated in that discussion-- why one of 'us' (if I may say 'us') was 'caught' kissing a boy in the cafeteria.
'And so,' Mr H-- was saying, 'I asked you down here because I have a little problem with getting a straight answer out of her.' He looked straight at me then. 'Who is Sherry dating right now?'
I looked straight back at him. 'Sir--?'
'It's a simple question. You're friends with Sherry-- you must know whom she's dating. What's his name?'
'Sir, I really don't think--'
'Just an answer. Do you know who her current boyfriend is?'
I went red. I did know. I have met him often. He came to our Christmas party. He's been helping to organise our Valentines' Day dance. He hangs out with the other two boyfriends who date girls in our club at the moment. 'Sir,' I said, 'if you will forgive me-- I think that's a question for Sherry, and not--'
'I'm asking you, right now.' There was no awkwardness left in him now. 'Do you think you'd like to answer, or--?'
I waited. He did not finish. I swallowed and said bravely, 'Or--?'
He let out a long sigh. 'Oh, so I get it,' he said. By now the respect was gone too. 'It's not just a girls' club, then. It's a little gang you've got here. One for all and all for one-- is that it? All go down together? --something like that.'
'Sir, I don't think that--'
'You'll START thinking, young lady, and you'll start now. I've got your little lady-friend in the next room' (he meant the detainment room where they put people for the period, or the day, or after-school detention) 'for insubordination at the moment, for refusing to co-operate with administration, but it can very easily go to more than that. So start using your pretty little head right now. Do I have to bring every member of your little skirt-wearing gang in here to find out one little piece of information? How many is that? --a dozen girls? And will I be able to get a straight answer out of any one of them?'
I stared straight at him. I mean-- I was not going to back down, not now, not at all. 'Sir, I haven't said I won't co-operate.'
'I'll be the one to define co-operation here, Janine.'
'Yes, Sir,' I said, ignoring that. 'You should know, Sir, that we girls-- in our club, I mean-- don't condone "PDA". We've talked about it. We all agree it's pretty crass and tasteless-- not to mention against school policy.'
He made a smirk then. 'If what you say is true, if "PDA" is against your... principles, then why was Sherry caught doing this?'
I shrugged. 'I am as surprised by it as you are,' I said. He didn't seem to believe that-- he definitely didn't care. 'Sir, if I may ask something-- If Sherry was kissing this guy in the cafeteria... do you know which of them started it?'
'Started it? It's a public display of affection. It takes two. What difference does it make who started it?'
'Well, Sir, if you were to ask a girl, I would say it makes a lot of difference.' That seemed to stump him and it gave me a chance for another breath. 'I mean, Sir, not to be too tedious about it, but it's entirely possible that this guy just came up and kissed her.'
'From what I hear she didn't seem to repel him very much.'
I made a smile. 'If it were a good kiss, I don't think it would repel me either, Sir. And even so, you could hardly accuse me of initiating it. After all, Sir, some of the best kisses are by surprise-- and any guy knows that.'
Mr H-- sat back in his chair, made a cathedral of his hands and pressed his fingertips together over and over, staring at me as though his stare could make me feel intimidated. I was far from feeling intimidated. He had got my ire up and I wasn't going to back down. What does Lizzy Bennet say in 'Pride and Prejudice'? --'I always rise to any attempt to intimidate me.' So we sat there staring at each other for a long moment. Fortunately Mr H-- is not a bad-looking man of his age-- he has the ex-Marine build and close-cut hair and a pleasant, if serious-looking face. Unfortunately (probably because of being an ex-Marine) he is virtually impossible to out-confidence. 'You're very clever, aren't you?' he asked me.
I cocked my head a little at that-- maybe I should not have looked like I would flinch. 'Sir--?'
'You bring up these philosophies of yours-- very confidently, very smoothly. You, and your holier-than-thou clique, with your slogans and carwashes and charities, and it's really just all for one and one for all, isn't it? Not much better than a gang-- maybe a better-looking gang, but a gang-- as I suspected. Not much difference at all.'
'Lots of difference,' I said.
'You have gang colours,' he said, 'and initiations and creeds and even a form of territory. Gangs are illegal in this school, Janine.'
'We are not a gang, Sir. For one, we are not self-serving. We are not violent. We don't rebel against authority. And you allow other non-school clubs to wear "colours" here. You have non-school clubs here who wear team colours-- that's not considered a gang. You have clubs here that wear "Jesus" t-shirts, clubs that wear "Darwin" t-shirts, paintballers, Boy Scouts, the black-t-shirt groups and cliques-- Sir, you have a club at this school who wear colours and get together only to smoke pot and play Warcraft.'
'Do we?' he wondered.
'And you cannot compare that to a bunch of decent girls who practise good manners and chastity and honesty and raise money to feed poor people-- and, I might add, Sir, help hold up the reputation of this school, especially in behaviour and even in grades.'
'"Especially in behaviour",' he said back at me. 'And by that, you mean co-operating with school administrators in upholding school policy?'
I drew a breath and nodded. 'In everything good, Sir.'
He smiled smugly at me. '"In everything good",' he repeated. 'Who is your friend Sherry kissing these days?'
I sighed. Had he not heard anything I'd just said? 'Sir,' I said, speaking quickly and firmly now, 'I think what I've been trying to say is that it's very possible the guy who kissed her in the cafeteria and the guy she's currently dating are not the same guy.'
This completely threw him. His eyes went suddenly wide as if he had just been caught by an ambush. Then he smiled smugly at me. 'So, your little friend is a bit of a player, then?'
'A player, Sir?' I had never heard a school administrator say something so disrespectful about someone I knew.
'Two boys at once? Is that one of your club's core values?'
'Sir, I hardly think--'
'I'm still wondering if you think at all. Any of you.' He leaned forward to his desk. 'I'll write you up for insubordination right now, and we'll see about resolving the issue with your little player friend in the other room--'
'Sir?' I asked, suddenly getting an idea, 'will you allow me the benefit of the doubt? May I go in and ask her myself? Confidentially, of course. If it's any news that will... absolve her, I will tell you everything I know. If not....'
He nodded. 'If not, you'll plead the fifth... and take this.'
I nodded seriously, seeing the discipline referral form on his desk. 'Yes, Sir.'
He rose at once. So did I. 'You have two minutes. This isn't legal strategy. You can tell her I'll call every last member of your little gang in here if I don't get an answer out of her. I'll start with your little sister.'
I met him in the eye. 'Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.'
There was another student in the detention room, a boy in a black hoodie with his head down on the desk who, apparently, had been sent down for the day for failing to dress for PE. I stepped right past him and went to Sherry in the corner. She leaned down on her arm, with her long reddish hair spilled out all over the desk, her knees together, her ankles crossed, in a cute black-and-grey speckled wool skirt and black tights and an off-white sweater. She didn't see me at first. I crouched down beside her-- in a skirt and tights-- so that our heads were less than a foot apart. She was surprised to see me but I told her what was going on at once.
'He says,' I said quietly, 'that he'll pull us all in here, one-by-one, and interrogate us till he finds out. Whoever doesn't tell will get the same thing you get.'
She made a face. 'That's unfair,' she said sadly.
I nodded. 'I know, but what would be worse is not showing you the respect you deserve. I mean, it's your life-- he shouldn't interrogate us about it, like it's a matter of public record.'
'If we're talking about respect,' Sherry said then, 'then I shouldn't let any of you go down for anything I've done.'
I shrugged. 'That doesn't matter, if it's important to you.'
'Are you going to make that decision for the rest of us? --all the others?'
'We do love you,' I said quietly. 'All for one.'
Sherry shook her head. 'Then I guess I'd better tell you,' she said. In a near-whisper she explained that her boyfriend's best friend ('Mike') had often been teasing her by saying that he has a crush on her, that she looks hot (she does), that he would go out with her if she were not dating his best friend, and so on. And yesterday in the cafeteria 'Mike' came up to her and got her aside for some kind of 'private conversation'-- the topic of which I will NOT go into here, but it was very disrespectful towards a guy he has been claiming is so much his best friend that he wouldn't disrespect him by following his heart, or whatever such bile boys like to spew out as though some dumb chick will believe it. And Sherry had told 'Mike' she would not change her mind and said she thought it was better they did not have any such 'private conversations' any more. And so, I am sure mainly because 'Mike' felt it was appropriate (though we will all agree here that it wasn't), he needed to give her a 'goodbye and good luck kiss', right in the corner of the cafeteria, behind the big square column, where no one (except the teacher on cafeteria duty) would see.
'And I can't say anything, because [boyfriend] will get upset,' she told me, 'and there's nothing going on, there never was anything going on, and there never was anything going to be going on, but you know how guys are-- I mean sometimes they just don't accept that.'
'So it's a simple case of a guy unable to resist his best friend's girlfriend,' I said.
'Please don't tell [boyfriend],' she said. 'I swear I will, Janine, when the time is right, when I should. I just don't think--'
'"What's right to be done can never be done too soon",' I quoted. (Too much Jane Austen in one day, I know.) 'The right time is the very next time you see him.'
She blotted her eye. 'I know. You're right. I will.'
I stood up. 'Well, let me go tell Mr H-- that, so we can get you out of here.'
Mr H-- probably hearing his name in my regular voice then-- appeared in the doorway. 'No,' Sherry said, catching my hand. 'I wouldn't say a word-- It would get back to him and I couldn't bear that.'
I nodded. 'It means you're going to have this lunch detention,' I said. 'For like three days this week.'
She nodded. 'I'll take the lunch detention.' She looked past me at Mr H-- then. 'Mr H--, it's not her fault. It's mine. I'll take the lunch detentions.'
'Is that your plea, counsellor?' he asked me.
I stood up straight before him. The boy in the black hoodie looked up. The other assistant principal appeared in the door behind Mr H--. And another boy was just signing in from having been sent out of his class, and he looked up too. In front of this audience I said, 'Yes, Sir.'
He beckoned me with his finger and I followed him out. Behind me, Sherry put her head down on the desk again. The detention room is like jail. For someone like Sherry-- for anyone of our club, for anyone at all, really, it must be humiliating. I do not know how I would ever choose to be here. But somehow I just did.
I explained to Mr H-- that the boy had kissed Sherry without her permission, and that because of the circumstances she felt guiltier than she should, and she was choosing the punishment rather than giving up his name to keep the whole thing quiet and just put it behind her somehow. 'She's not a "player",' I said, 'as you called her, Sir. She's actually being very noble about it.'
'Noble? And now you know the guy, and you're not giving him up either?'
I stood my ground. 'No, Sir.'
He nodded, looked down at the discipline-referral form on his desk, and picked it up to read it over. 'All right,' he said past me to our other AP. 'She gets the three LDs, and the counsellor here-- I'll decide on her later.'
The other AP nodded and went out. My heart pounded. I did not want lunch detention nor anything else. 'Thank you, Sir,' I said, because I did not know what else to say.
'Thank me for what? I haven't decided on you yet.'
I nodded. 'Yes, Sir. But-- thank you for considering it.'
He made that disrespectful smirk again. 'Get out of here,' he said, and called over me towards his assistant who would write a pass for me to return to class.
I have thought a lot about it all afternoon and still don't know what the sin is in 'all for one and one for all.' If Sherry is wrong, it's because as a lady she allowed herself to be kissed by her boyfriend's best friend in school. And she really is being noble by taking the punishment to protect someone she loves and someone he cares for as a best friend in turn. I have to respect that. But she is being mistrusted and mistreated-- I probably am too-- and Mr H--, who should be a role model of fairness and noble behaviour, is being obstinate and arbitrary.
I texted everyone in our group this afternoon and not one of us, if we are asked, will be giving over 'Mike''s name, even if it means we are all sitting in lunch detention-- and not being allowed to talk or even communicate with each other-- for the rest of the week.
I have not told my parents, but I know what they will say. 'Do what you believe is right, Janine.' -- and I have done, and will do. Thanks be to God.
...
I first learned about it when I was summoned to the assistant principal's office. Here in the US the assistant principals (we have two at this school) are responsible for maintaining attendance and discipline. As you might figure the worst-behaved people are most familiar with them. I had never been called to see them before today. A student arrived in my 4th-period maths class bearing a pass and I got up amidst the teasing and jeering feeling like I was about to be guillotined in the square.
I stepped into the office and Mr H-- gestured for me to sit down. I sat, crossed my ankles, arranged the skirt in my lap, and exhaled to calm my breathing. If I felt awkward at least Mr H-- felt more so. He looked about himself for a long moment and then stared straight at me. 'Janine,' he said to me.
'Yes, Sir.'
'Do you have any idea what this is about?'
I shook my head. 'None at all, Sir.'
He looked oddly at me then, as though he had expected a simple No. I suppose I was long enough at HOH (in England) that know how to answer a proper question from a senior school administrator. So he went on to tell me that Sherry, one of my friends (who is in our girls' club) was 'caught' (his word) kissing a boy in the school cafeteria, which is against about three or four school rules (including, if you can believe, the health code) and is facing disciplinary action as soon as Mr H-- can figure out exactly what happened and, as he admitted, who the boy is.
I stared straight at him the whole time he told me this, not out of respect nor anything else but in total disbelief. I know that kissing in the school is against policy. We've discussed what's known as 'PDA' (public displays of affection) in our club meetings. I am very strongly against it, as anyone who knows me can verify. For one thing, it makes other people feel awkward. Just because you can get a date doesn't mean you should ever flaunt in front of other people. Then of course it's form of possession, as though the guy is saying, 'Look what I get to have, and kiss, in front of you, and you don't.' And of course a girl will feel the same thing about a guy. And for another thing it's never really a good kiss-- it's a polite kiss, or more importantly a gesture, being shown to other people, not intended to be particularly pleasant. If you want really good kissing, go somewhere where you're both more comfortable (like a Halloween party in an angel costume-- okay, that's somewhere else in this blog). And, for another, it's disruptive-- it makes people pay attention, not much better than a car wreck on the highway. Also, I guess, from the school's point of view, they don't want to be put in the VERY awkward position of having to determine where a simple 'see you later' kiss ends and where 'making out' begins, so they have to ban all of it-- which I am totally in support of. So I guess the next issue is, if Sherry is in our club-- and had participated in that discussion-- why one of 'us' (if I may say 'us') was 'caught' kissing a boy in the cafeteria.
'And so,' Mr H-- was saying, 'I asked you down here because I have a little problem with getting a straight answer out of her.' He looked straight at me then. 'Who is Sherry dating right now?'
I looked straight back at him. 'Sir--?'
'It's a simple question. You're friends with Sherry-- you must know whom she's dating. What's his name?'
'Sir, I really don't think--'
'Just an answer. Do you know who her current boyfriend is?'
I went red. I did know. I have met him often. He came to our Christmas party. He's been helping to organise our Valentines' Day dance. He hangs out with the other two boyfriends who date girls in our club at the moment. 'Sir,' I said, 'if you will forgive me-- I think that's a question for Sherry, and not--'
'I'm asking you, right now.' There was no awkwardness left in him now. 'Do you think you'd like to answer, or--?'
I waited. He did not finish. I swallowed and said bravely, 'Or--?'
He let out a long sigh. 'Oh, so I get it,' he said. By now the respect was gone too. 'It's not just a girls' club, then. It's a little gang you've got here. One for all and all for one-- is that it? All go down together? --something like that.'
'Sir, I don't think that--'
'You'll START thinking, young lady, and you'll start now. I've got your little lady-friend in the next room' (he meant the detainment room where they put people for the period, or the day, or after-school detention) 'for insubordination at the moment, for refusing to co-operate with administration, but it can very easily go to more than that. So start using your pretty little head right now. Do I have to bring every member of your little skirt-wearing gang in here to find out one little piece of information? How many is that? --a dozen girls? And will I be able to get a straight answer out of any one of them?'
I stared straight at him. I mean-- I was not going to back down, not now, not at all. 'Sir, I haven't said I won't co-operate.'
'I'll be the one to define co-operation here, Janine.'
'Yes, Sir,' I said, ignoring that. 'You should know, Sir, that we girls-- in our club, I mean-- don't condone "PDA". We've talked about it. We all agree it's pretty crass and tasteless-- not to mention against school policy.'
He made a smirk then. 'If what you say is true, if "PDA" is against your... principles, then why was Sherry caught doing this?'
I shrugged. 'I am as surprised by it as you are,' I said. He didn't seem to believe that-- he definitely didn't care. 'Sir, if I may ask something-- If Sherry was kissing this guy in the cafeteria... do you know which of them started it?'
'Started it? It's a public display of affection. It takes two. What difference does it make who started it?'
'Well, Sir, if you were to ask a girl, I would say it makes a lot of difference.' That seemed to stump him and it gave me a chance for another breath. 'I mean, Sir, not to be too tedious about it, but it's entirely possible that this guy just came up and kissed her.'
'From what I hear she didn't seem to repel him very much.'
I made a smile. 'If it were a good kiss, I don't think it would repel me either, Sir. And even so, you could hardly accuse me of initiating it. After all, Sir, some of the best kisses are by surprise-- and any guy knows that.'
Mr H-- sat back in his chair, made a cathedral of his hands and pressed his fingertips together over and over, staring at me as though his stare could make me feel intimidated. I was far from feeling intimidated. He had got my ire up and I wasn't going to back down. What does Lizzy Bennet say in 'Pride and Prejudice'? --'I always rise to any attempt to intimidate me.' So we sat there staring at each other for a long moment. Fortunately Mr H-- is not a bad-looking man of his age-- he has the ex-Marine build and close-cut hair and a pleasant, if serious-looking face. Unfortunately (probably because of being an ex-Marine) he is virtually impossible to out-confidence. 'You're very clever, aren't you?' he asked me.
I cocked my head a little at that-- maybe I should not have looked like I would flinch. 'Sir--?'
'You bring up these philosophies of yours-- very confidently, very smoothly. You, and your holier-than-thou clique, with your slogans and carwashes and charities, and it's really just all for one and one for all, isn't it? Not much better than a gang-- maybe a better-looking gang, but a gang-- as I suspected. Not much difference at all.'
'Lots of difference,' I said.
'You have gang colours,' he said, 'and initiations and creeds and even a form of territory. Gangs are illegal in this school, Janine.'
'We are not a gang, Sir. For one, we are not self-serving. We are not violent. We don't rebel against authority. And you allow other non-school clubs to wear "colours" here. You have non-school clubs here who wear team colours-- that's not considered a gang. You have clubs here that wear "Jesus" t-shirts, clubs that wear "Darwin" t-shirts, paintballers, Boy Scouts, the black-t-shirt groups and cliques-- Sir, you have a club at this school who wear colours and get together only to smoke pot and play Warcraft.'
'Do we?' he wondered.
'And you cannot compare that to a bunch of decent girls who practise good manners and chastity and honesty and raise money to feed poor people-- and, I might add, Sir, help hold up the reputation of this school, especially in behaviour and even in grades.'
'"Especially in behaviour",' he said back at me. 'And by that, you mean co-operating with school administrators in upholding school policy?'
I drew a breath and nodded. 'In everything good, Sir.'
He smiled smugly at me. '"In everything good",' he repeated. 'Who is your friend Sherry kissing these days?'
I sighed. Had he not heard anything I'd just said? 'Sir,' I said, speaking quickly and firmly now, 'I think what I've been trying to say is that it's very possible the guy who kissed her in the cafeteria and the guy she's currently dating are not the same guy.'
This completely threw him. His eyes went suddenly wide as if he had just been caught by an ambush. Then he smiled smugly at me. 'So, your little friend is a bit of a player, then?'
'A player, Sir?' I had never heard a school administrator say something so disrespectful about someone I knew.
'Two boys at once? Is that one of your club's core values?'
'Sir, I hardly think--'
'I'm still wondering if you think at all. Any of you.' He leaned forward to his desk. 'I'll write you up for insubordination right now, and we'll see about resolving the issue with your little player friend in the other room--'
'Sir?' I asked, suddenly getting an idea, 'will you allow me the benefit of the doubt? May I go in and ask her myself? Confidentially, of course. If it's any news that will... absolve her, I will tell you everything I know. If not....'
He nodded. 'If not, you'll plead the fifth... and take this.'
I nodded seriously, seeing the discipline referral form on his desk. 'Yes, Sir.'
He rose at once. So did I. 'You have two minutes. This isn't legal strategy. You can tell her I'll call every last member of your little gang in here if I don't get an answer out of her. I'll start with your little sister.'
I met him in the eye. 'Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.'
There was another student in the detention room, a boy in a black hoodie with his head down on the desk who, apparently, had been sent down for the day for failing to dress for PE. I stepped right past him and went to Sherry in the corner. She leaned down on her arm, with her long reddish hair spilled out all over the desk, her knees together, her ankles crossed, in a cute black-and-grey speckled wool skirt and black tights and an off-white sweater. She didn't see me at first. I crouched down beside her-- in a skirt and tights-- so that our heads were less than a foot apart. She was surprised to see me but I told her what was going on at once.
'He says,' I said quietly, 'that he'll pull us all in here, one-by-one, and interrogate us till he finds out. Whoever doesn't tell will get the same thing you get.'
She made a face. 'That's unfair,' she said sadly.
I nodded. 'I know, but what would be worse is not showing you the respect you deserve. I mean, it's your life-- he shouldn't interrogate us about it, like it's a matter of public record.'
'If we're talking about respect,' Sherry said then, 'then I shouldn't let any of you go down for anything I've done.'
I shrugged. 'That doesn't matter, if it's important to you.'
'Are you going to make that decision for the rest of us? --all the others?'
'We do love you,' I said quietly. 'All for one.'
Sherry shook her head. 'Then I guess I'd better tell you,' she said. In a near-whisper she explained that her boyfriend's best friend ('Mike') had often been teasing her by saying that he has a crush on her, that she looks hot (she does), that he would go out with her if she were not dating his best friend, and so on. And yesterday in the cafeteria 'Mike' came up to her and got her aside for some kind of 'private conversation'-- the topic of which I will NOT go into here, but it was very disrespectful towards a guy he has been claiming is so much his best friend that he wouldn't disrespect him by following his heart, or whatever such bile boys like to spew out as though some dumb chick will believe it. And Sherry had told 'Mike' she would not change her mind and said she thought it was better they did not have any such 'private conversations' any more. And so, I am sure mainly because 'Mike' felt it was appropriate (though we will all agree here that it wasn't), he needed to give her a 'goodbye and good luck kiss', right in the corner of the cafeteria, behind the big square column, where no one (except the teacher on cafeteria duty) would see.
'And I can't say anything, because [boyfriend] will get upset,' she told me, 'and there's nothing going on, there never was anything going on, and there never was anything going to be going on, but you know how guys are-- I mean sometimes they just don't accept that.'
'So it's a simple case of a guy unable to resist his best friend's girlfriend,' I said.
'Please don't tell [boyfriend],' she said. 'I swear I will, Janine, when the time is right, when I should. I just don't think--'
'"What's right to be done can never be done too soon",' I quoted. (Too much Jane Austen in one day, I know.) 'The right time is the very next time you see him.'
She blotted her eye. 'I know. You're right. I will.'
I stood up. 'Well, let me go tell Mr H-- that, so we can get you out of here.'
Mr H-- probably hearing his name in my regular voice then-- appeared in the doorway. 'No,' Sherry said, catching my hand. 'I wouldn't say a word-- It would get back to him and I couldn't bear that.'
I nodded. 'It means you're going to have this lunch detention,' I said. 'For like three days this week.'
She nodded. 'I'll take the lunch detention.' She looked past me at Mr H-- then. 'Mr H--, it's not her fault. It's mine. I'll take the lunch detentions.'
'Is that your plea, counsellor?' he asked me.
I stood up straight before him. The boy in the black hoodie looked up. The other assistant principal appeared in the door behind Mr H--. And another boy was just signing in from having been sent out of his class, and he looked up too. In front of this audience I said, 'Yes, Sir.'
He beckoned me with his finger and I followed him out. Behind me, Sherry put her head down on the desk again. The detention room is like jail. For someone like Sherry-- for anyone of our club, for anyone at all, really, it must be humiliating. I do not know how I would ever choose to be here. But somehow I just did.
I explained to Mr H-- that the boy had kissed Sherry without her permission, and that because of the circumstances she felt guiltier than she should, and she was choosing the punishment rather than giving up his name to keep the whole thing quiet and just put it behind her somehow. 'She's not a "player",' I said, 'as you called her, Sir. She's actually being very noble about it.'
'Noble? And now you know the guy, and you're not giving him up either?'
I stood my ground. 'No, Sir.'
He nodded, looked down at the discipline-referral form on his desk, and picked it up to read it over. 'All right,' he said past me to our other AP. 'She gets the three LDs, and the counsellor here-- I'll decide on her later.'
The other AP nodded and went out. My heart pounded. I did not want lunch detention nor anything else. 'Thank you, Sir,' I said, because I did not know what else to say.
'Thank me for what? I haven't decided on you yet.'
I nodded. 'Yes, Sir. But-- thank you for considering it.'
He made that disrespectful smirk again. 'Get out of here,' he said, and called over me towards his assistant who would write a pass for me to return to class.
I have thought a lot about it all afternoon and still don't know what the sin is in 'all for one and one for all.' If Sherry is wrong, it's because as a lady she allowed herself to be kissed by her boyfriend's best friend in school. And she really is being noble by taking the punishment to protect someone she loves and someone he cares for as a best friend in turn. I have to respect that. But she is being mistrusted and mistreated-- I probably am too-- and Mr H--, who should be a role model of fairness and noble behaviour, is being obstinate and arbitrary.
I texted everyone in our group this afternoon and not one of us, if we are asked, will be giving over 'Mike''s name, even if it means we are all sitting in lunch detention-- and not being allowed to talk or even communicate with each other-- for the rest of the week.
I have not told my parents, but I know what they will say. 'Do what you believe is right, Janine.' -- and I have done, and will do. Thanks be to God.
...
03 December 2009
Day of the skirts
Thursday, 3 December 2009
On Monday I started a little informal sociological study and since then I have counted a sum total of six different girls who have worn either dresses or skirts over the first three days of this week. That's it. Out of 300-odd girls in this school, six of us (not including me or Jessy) wear skirts. A few weeks ago I brought up an idea at the girls' club meeting and we established a new ritual which commenced the week before Thanksgiving. Since Thursdays are our usual meeting days, from now on all club members will dress up to commemorate that. The wrestlers and football players wear neckties and collared shirts; the cheerleaders wear their outfits, the ROTC members wear their uniforms, on whatever days those groups consider important to them... so why should we not do the same for our own reasons.
Four weeks ago at the meeting there was much discussion. I cannot say it was debate, because we were all pretty much agreed on the basic idea. What we discussed was what our 'club colours' would have to be. Some of the girls (Rita and a few others) insisted that we all wear cute little school-uniform skirts like the grey ones Jessy and I wore when we went to HOH in England. This was met with universal approval. I was probably more flattered than I should have been because I still wear my little grey HOH skirt(s) to school here and that's probably influenced them. Really I was thinking we should wear something less conspicuously elitist. We held a vote between three choices and ended up with a green plaid skirt which we will wear with our own navy-blue club t-shirts or sweatshirts, and for cold weather we will wear navy-blue tights. And the rule is that this is what all nine of us will wear every other Thursday, which are our meeting days.
The first week we wore our 'colours' was the Thursday before Thanksgiving and today was the second time. Of course people have been saying things-- we're snobs, we're superior, we're stuck-up-- all of that means the same thing. We've been told that we're boring. We've been told that we're all gay. We've also got that we're apparently sex teases-- however anyone got that idea I dread to imagine. Most of the other girls at school hate it. Most of the teachers like it. Well, they're both to be expected. What was surprising is that the guys-- and I mean the nice guys-- actually approve of it. I've always hoped, deep down inside, that the private-school-girl look was something guys would actually like. It makes you look nice and good and intelligent, and also, I guess, kind of rich-- though amongst the nine of us we represent a pretty complete range of economic backgrounds.
Of course we've all had the skirts altered, especially to have them shorter-- but they are definitely NOT super short nor anywhere close to that. One of the ideals behind the club in the first place is that it's not only possible, but preferable, to look chic but conservative, to avoid extremes in fashion and especially to be modestly ladylike at all times. It is both a way of demonstrating our own dignity as young women and a way of showing respect for the guys we may end up with. (Does a guy REALLY want a girl who usually dresses as though she's ready for hot-and-heavy sex with anyone? What if it's not just her looks? And what kind of guy would find slutty girls attractive? And what kind of girl would want a guy to think she looked slutty? And-- you get the idea.)
It did seem a little awkward when six of us ended up at the same lunch table during fifth period. But, we are a club and we're supposed to look like we are. Several girls came up and asked what we were about. And we told them, though they didn't seem very impressed. I think they were hoping we were trying to look a little slutty, but I couldn't say if they wanted to be able to put us down or admire us for it.
At tonight's meeting we discussed the upcoming plans. They include buying gifts for the two families we've adopted, contributing to the canned-food drive and the winter-coat drive at Catholic Charities, and carolling at the pensioners' home on the 17th (next meeting time). We've also planned a Boxing-Day party for ourselves and families at this house. And the projects in the spring include the fashion show, the bikini show, more car-wash events and more singing. So whilst we are being mocked and made fun of, this is what we are doing. Forgive us for wearing similar skirts to school at the same time then!
...
On Monday I started a little informal sociological study and since then I have counted a sum total of six different girls who have worn either dresses or skirts over the first three days of this week. That's it. Out of 300-odd girls in this school, six of us (not including me or Jessy) wear skirts. A few weeks ago I brought up an idea at the girls' club meeting and we established a new ritual which commenced the week before Thanksgiving. Since Thursdays are our usual meeting days, from now on all club members will dress up to commemorate that. The wrestlers and football players wear neckties and collared shirts; the cheerleaders wear their outfits, the ROTC members wear their uniforms, on whatever days those groups consider important to them... so why should we not do the same for our own reasons.
Four weeks ago at the meeting there was much discussion. I cannot say it was debate, because we were all pretty much agreed on the basic idea. What we discussed was what our 'club colours' would have to be. Some of the girls (Rita and a few others) insisted that we all wear cute little school-uniform skirts like the grey ones Jessy and I wore when we went to HOH in England. This was met with universal approval. I was probably more flattered than I should have been because I still wear my little grey HOH skirt(s) to school here and that's probably influenced them. Really I was thinking we should wear something less conspicuously elitist. We held a vote between three choices and ended up with a green plaid skirt which we will wear with our own navy-blue club t-shirts or sweatshirts, and for cold weather we will wear navy-blue tights. And the rule is that this is what all nine of us will wear every other Thursday, which are our meeting days.
The first week we wore our 'colours' was the Thursday before Thanksgiving and today was the second time. Of course people have been saying things-- we're snobs, we're superior, we're stuck-up-- all of that means the same thing. We've been told that we're boring. We've been told that we're all gay. We've also got that we're apparently sex teases-- however anyone got that idea I dread to imagine. Most of the other girls at school hate it. Most of the teachers like it. Well, they're both to be expected. What was surprising is that the guys-- and I mean the nice guys-- actually approve of it. I've always hoped, deep down inside, that the private-school-girl look was something guys would actually like. It makes you look nice and good and intelligent, and also, I guess, kind of rich-- though amongst the nine of us we represent a pretty complete range of economic backgrounds.
Of course we've all had the skirts altered, especially to have them shorter-- but they are definitely NOT super short nor anywhere close to that. One of the ideals behind the club in the first place is that it's not only possible, but preferable, to look chic but conservative, to avoid extremes in fashion and especially to be modestly ladylike at all times. It is both a way of demonstrating our own dignity as young women and a way of showing respect for the guys we may end up with. (Does a guy REALLY want a girl who usually dresses as though she's ready for hot-and-heavy sex with anyone? What if it's not just her looks? And what kind of guy would find slutty girls attractive? And what kind of girl would want a guy to think she looked slutty? And-- you get the idea.)
It did seem a little awkward when six of us ended up at the same lunch table during fifth period. But, we are a club and we're supposed to look like we are. Several girls came up and asked what we were about. And we told them, though they didn't seem very impressed. I think they were hoping we were trying to look a little slutty, but I couldn't say if they wanted to be able to put us down or admire us for it.
At tonight's meeting we discussed the upcoming plans. They include buying gifts for the two families we've adopted, contributing to the canned-food drive and the winter-coat drive at Catholic Charities, and carolling at the pensioners' home on the 17th (next meeting time). We've also planned a Boxing-Day party for ourselves and families at this house. And the projects in the spring include the fashion show, the bikini show, more car-wash events and more singing. So whilst we are being mocked and made fun of, this is what we are doing. Forgive us for wearing similar skirts to school at the same time then!
...
13 September 2009
No dates on Saturday night
Saturday 12 September 2009
The rain was so bad last night that several of the girls did not want to drove over in it, so we postponed our meeting till tonight. It really was laughable-- I suggested that Jessy just IM everyone and ask if Saturday was all right, and not one of us-- NOT ONE-- had a date tonight. Ha-ha! The good girls' club is not just a facade then! Well-- it is early in the year and the only one who is actually dating-- Anna-- was left home alone because her boyfriend was at work. So with Mother's blessing we gathered down stairs here at the castle.
Mother made snacks and so on, like she would have if we had been in 5th grade. We called the meeting to order and set the dates for some events-- our bikini car wash is next week and the Hey Monday concert is October 19th. We will decide on the exact nature of the Thanksgiving giveaway and the Christmas giveaway at the next meeting (in 2 weeks at Rita's). At about 8.30 we adjourned and ate snacks-- cheese fries (low-fat cheese), celery and tomatoes, pizza niblets and, of course, brownies, and watched the stupid Disney princess movie with stupid Selena Gomez till it was over. Two of us went home and then we were seven, plus, Daddy and Mother, playing Apples to Apples round the big game table. It got really silly after a while-- Jessy was nearly boorish with her constant silliness, which is surprising since she is in the middle of her time, you know. Of course Josie and Anna and pretty much everyone else-- even Mother-- was contributing to the silliness too and everyone was sore in the stomach from laughing. We always have a rollicking time playing this game and playing with nine people is by far a record for us.
It is now after midnight and I have been typing all this for too long. I am sleepy and my fingers ache. And I have church in the morning.
...
The rain was so bad last night that several of the girls did not want to drove over in it, so we postponed our meeting till tonight. It really was laughable-- I suggested that Jessy just IM everyone and ask if Saturday was all right, and not one of us-- NOT ONE-- had a date tonight. Ha-ha! The good girls' club is not just a facade then! Well-- it is early in the year and the only one who is actually dating-- Anna-- was left home alone because her boyfriend was at work. So with Mother's blessing we gathered down stairs here at the castle.
Mother made snacks and so on, like she would have if we had been in 5th grade. We called the meeting to order and set the dates for some events-- our bikini car wash is next week and the Hey Monday concert is October 19th. We will decide on the exact nature of the Thanksgiving giveaway and the Christmas giveaway at the next meeting (in 2 weeks at Rita's). At about 8.30 we adjourned and ate snacks-- cheese fries (low-fat cheese), celery and tomatoes, pizza niblets and, of course, brownies, and watched the stupid Disney princess movie with stupid Selena Gomez till it was over. Two of us went home and then we were seven, plus, Daddy and Mother, playing Apples to Apples round the big game table. It got really silly after a while-- Jessy was nearly boorish with her constant silliness, which is surprising since she is in the middle of her time, you know. Of course Josie and Anna and pretty much everyone else-- even Mother-- was contributing to the silliness too and everyone was sore in the stomach from laughing. We always have a rollicking time playing this game and playing with nine people is by far a record for us.
It is now after midnight and I have been typing all this for too long. I am sleepy and my fingers ache. And I have church in the morning.
...
08 June 2009
Janine accepts her dare
Monday, 8 June 2009
I got up at about 8.30, went in and took my chem final, and rode home with Jessy at 12.10. Stephen was working all afternoon-- which was just as well. I lay out back with Jessy for a while and I actually had a bit of a nap, but the Bugs would be coming over to the field by 3.30 and I had to get dressed and make my appearance.
The Ladybugs, if you haven't read, are the 8-9-10-yr-old softball team that Daddy founded and endowed with a gorgeous new stadium and workout facility in the section of land adjacent to our home. In keeping with the castle architecture of our house the stadium has permanent seating, three rows about 50 feet long with workout rooms and a snack bar and toilets and showers underneath. In the centre just to one side of the backstop is a two-storey tower similar to the ones on our house. So the stadium is called Castle Field.
Two months ago when this team started we were all joking round in our beautiful new locker room and I said, mostly teasing, that I had got a bikini swimsuit in red with white polkadots that sort of matches the Ladybugs' uniforms. They girls thought this sounded cute and wanted to see it. So I, typically, opened my mouth and said maybe if we got to the playoffs we would have a practice day on which we could all wear swimsuits and have a pool party at our pool afterwards, and I would wear that one. When I tried it on it sort of required about six weeks of working out on the rowing machine first... but I am down to a decent size and shape now and felt pretty confident of wearing it on the off chance that a brand-new team playing in a brand-new facility actually beat out nine other teams and got to the playoffs.
Well-- we are in the playoffs, with a record of 10 and 6 which is actually second-best in the league. So we will skip the first round and play at home for the second, which if we win we will play at home for the final on Saturday. And-- today I had to wear the red-and-white polkadot bikini to practice.
I did wear sneakers too, of course-- I typically don't wear cleats because as coach it's not my role to take off and run bases. And I wore socks. And I wore a headband, one of the red-and-white ones with the team logo that Mother designed and had made for the players and even to sell to fans in the snack shop. And I put on SPF 30 bug spray. Jessy offered to accompany me and I collected my glove and the keys to the gate and buildings and we walked over.
It's about 200 yards from the side yard to the cleared part of the field, through mostly tall grass that can be laden with bugs in this season. Daddy cleared a path wide enough to drive the tractor mower through. When I came through I saw cars in the parking area. That was about 3.45. Well-- so the parents would see me opening up and greeting the girls in my bikini.
Three of them were already in swimsuits too, and socks and cleats-- a cute combination. Jessy and I threw and caught with several of the girls till Mike and Michelle arrived and we began the practice with a jog round the track. Then we had tight fielding and some batting practice and after 16.30 we divided into two teams of seven, Jessy and each played on one side to make eight each, and we played what turned out to be four full innings of scrimmage. I think that was really a valuable way to prepare for playoffs. Coach Mike kept yelling 'Tighter! Sharper! Harder!' and so on, always trying to get that last 2 or 3 percent of perfection out of everyone. By now we all know the routine. Some of these girls are angelic-- there's like a switch that Coach Mike can turn on in some of them. For example if Amy's pitches are going a little wild he will yell, 'We gotta end this inning, Amy! Turn the strikes on!' And little Amy-- 9 years old-- will nod gravely, adjust the goggles, pull back the hat, wiggle her bottom, and sting the batter with three strikes in a row. It's like that. Mike will gesture with his arm, making some half-underhand throw, at Grace or Gina and the next ball will be snagged cleanly out of the air and slung hard into second and there's a double play no one else could have expected. But Mike, Michelle and I expect it, and we tell the girls that. They're depended-upon, and they know it, and when the pressure rises their commitment level does too. They really are the best kids in the world.
I am so out of practice at actual playing that I was only about on the level of girls half my age, you know. But I got a few good hits including one that ended up as a home run-- over the fence on a bounce-- and felt so easy coming off the bat that I really had to rethink why I gave up playing at all!
By 5.30 we were all pooped. I locked up the place, we formed up in two rows, and I paced in front of them like an army general-- in a bikini-- inspecting the troops. Most of them wanted to giggle. 'All right, you lot,' I said, pretending to be stern, 'I saw some pretty fine practice here today. But do you think it's enough that we practice well? NO. We need to play well. We need to nail these next two games. Thursday and Saturday-- your fate lies in your hands. How will we play it?'
The all looked blankly back at me.
'Huh? Are we going to win these games or what?'
'Yes!' some of them said.
'I didn't hear you....'
'YES!'
'Go, Bugs!' I shouted at them.
'GO BUGS!' And we all broke up giggling.
'Enough of that!' I yelled. 'Ladybugs-- right face!' And they turned, not neatly, but who cared? 'Ladybugs-- forward, march!' And two-by-two all fourteen of them started for the far side of the field where the path was.
Jessy skipped along ahead of them, hopping half-backwards, and cheered, 'Last one to the pool is a sweaty mess!'
And they all squealed and wailed and ran after her.
It's 9.00 and the last of them left half an hour ago. Mother had served up hot dogs and macaroni salad and potato crisps and then pudding. The pool was looking pretty yellow from all the ballfield dirt-- most of these girls had no reluctance about sliding into base in a swimsuit and at least one was torn-- but as Daddy says, 'That's what the chlorine is for.' Lisa and little J.J. joined us till it began to get dark.
We've got another practice tomorrow. I will 'drill' them with pep talk and politeness. Mike and Michelle will keep up their skills. I probably won't wear the red-and-white bikini again-- there were enough photos taken for the team FaceBook site to last me a lifetime! But we all had fun and we are on the way to the end of a terrific season.
...
I got up at about 8.30, went in and took my chem final, and rode home with Jessy at 12.10. Stephen was working all afternoon-- which was just as well. I lay out back with Jessy for a while and I actually had a bit of a nap, but the Bugs would be coming over to the field by 3.30 and I had to get dressed and make my appearance.
The Ladybugs, if you haven't read, are the 8-9-10-yr-old softball team that Daddy founded and endowed with a gorgeous new stadium and workout facility in the section of land adjacent to our home. In keeping with the castle architecture of our house the stadium has permanent seating, three rows about 50 feet long with workout rooms and a snack bar and toilets and showers underneath. In the centre just to one side of the backstop is a two-storey tower similar to the ones on our house. So the stadium is called Castle Field.
Two months ago when this team started we were all joking round in our beautiful new locker room and I said, mostly teasing, that I had got a bikini swimsuit in red with white polkadots that sort of matches the Ladybugs' uniforms. They girls thought this sounded cute and wanted to see it. So I, typically, opened my mouth and said maybe if we got to the playoffs we would have a practice day on which we could all wear swimsuits and have a pool party at our pool afterwards, and I would wear that one. When I tried it on it sort of required about six weeks of working out on the rowing machine first... but I am down to a decent size and shape now and felt pretty confident of wearing it on the off chance that a brand-new team playing in a brand-new facility actually beat out nine other teams and got to the playoffs.
Well-- we are in the playoffs, with a record of 10 and 6 which is actually second-best in the league. So we will skip the first round and play at home for the second, which if we win we will play at home for the final on Saturday. And-- today I had to wear the red-and-white polkadot bikini to practice.
I did wear sneakers too, of course-- I typically don't wear cleats because as coach it's not my role to take off and run bases. And I wore socks. And I wore a headband, one of the red-and-white ones with the team logo that Mother designed and had made for the players and even to sell to fans in the snack shop. And I put on SPF 30 bug spray. Jessy offered to accompany me and I collected my glove and the keys to the gate and buildings and we walked over.
It's about 200 yards from the side yard to the cleared part of the field, through mostly tall grass that can be laden with bugs in this season. Daddy cleared a path wide enough to drive the tractor mower through. When I came through I saw cars in the parking area. That was about 3.45. Well-- so the parents would see me opening up and greeting the girls in my bikini.
Three of them were already in swimsuits too, and socks and cleats-- a cute combination. Jessy and I threw and caught with several of the girls till Mike and Michelle arrived and we began the practice with a jog round the track. Then we had tight fielding and some batting practice and after 16.30 we divided into two teams of seven, Jessy and each played on one side to make eight each, and we played what turned out to be four full innings of scrimmage. I think that was really a valuable way to prepare for playoffs. Coach Mike kept yelling 'Tighter! Sharper! Harder!' and so on, always trying to get that last 2 or 3 percent of perfection out of everyone. By now we all know the routine. Some of these girls are angelic-- there's like a switch that Coach Mike can turn on in some of them. For example if Amy's pitches are going a little wild he will yell, 'We gotta end this inning, Amy! Turn the strikes on!' And little Amy-- 9 years old-- will nod gravely, adjust the goggles, pull back the hat, wiggle her bottom, and sting the batter with three strikes in a row. It's like that. Mike will gesture with his arm, making some half-underhand throw, at Grace or Gina and the next ball will be snagged cleanly out of the air and slung hard into second and there's a double play no one else could have expected. But Mike, Michelle and I expect it, and we tell the girls that. They're depended-upon, and they know it, and when the pressure rises their commitment level does too. They really are the best kids in the world.
I am so out of practice at actual playing that I was only about on the level of girls half my age, you know. But I got a few good hits including one that ended up as a home run-- over the fence on a bounce-- and felt so easy coming off the bat that I really had to rethink why I gave up playing at all!
By 5.30 we were all pooped. I locked up the place, we formed up in two rows, and I paced in front of them like an army general-- in a bikini-- inspecting the troops. Most of them wanted to giggle. 'All right, you lot,' I said, pretending to be stern, 'I saw some pretty fine practice here today. But do you think it's enough that we practice well? NO. We need to play well. We need to nail these next two games. Thursday and Saturday-- your fate lies in your hands. How will we play it?'
The all looked blankly back at me.
'Huh? Are we going to win these games or what?'
'Yes!' some of them said.
'I didn't hear you....'
'YES!'
'Go, Bugs!' I shouted at them.
'GO BUGS!' And we all broke up giggling.
'Enough of that!' I yelled. 'Ladybugs-- right face!' And they turned, not neatly, but who cared? 'Ladybugs-- forward, march!' And two-by-two all fourteen of them started for the far side of the field where the path was.
Jessy skipped along ahead of them, hopping half-backwards, and cheered, 'Last one to the pool is a sweaty mess!'
And they all squealed and wailed and ran after her.
It's 9.00 and the last of them left half an hour ago. Mother had served up hot dogs and macaroni salad and potato crisps and then pudding. The pool was looking pretty yellow from all the ballfield dirt-- most of these girls had no reluctance about sliding into base in a swimsuit and at least one was torn-- but as Daddy says, 'That's what the chlorine is for.' Lisa and little J.J. joined us till it began to get dark.
We've got another practice tomorrow. I will 'drill' them with pep talk and politeness. Mike and Michelle will keep up their skills. I probably won't wear the red-and-white bikini again-- there were enough photos taken for the team FaceBook site to last me a lifetime! But we all had fun and we are on the way to the end of a terrific season.
...
26 May 2009
Janine rocks
Tuesday, May 26th
Prom photos were distributed today during homeroom. Apparently the photographers made short work of that-- though they did have four days, even if it was over a holiday. Of course Jessy and I didn't have any coming. Michelle, the Ladybugs' coach, said she had already framed and hung up the best of the photos taken on home plate the other day, and that's good enough for me.
'Hey,' Becky said to me, 'so how was the prom?'
I looked at her. 'It was all right.'
'Janine rocked,' Vivian said beside us, and I turned and glared at her.
Becky giggled. 'You rocked? How did you rock?'
I shrugged. 'Oh, it was nothing.' The bell went off and the Pledge began.
In the PE cabana a girl called April leaned over and said, 'Oh! Janine! My God-- I couldn't believe it! Poor Stephen! And lucky you!'
Her friend said, 'Awww, Stephen was pretty lucky too.' I blushed at that.
In the corridors people who never even seemed to notice me said hello. Two girls I don't even know came down the gallery once, one after the other, with their hands raised to slap my palm as they passed. It was embarrassing. Did any of this matter this much?
And so all morning a certain tentative engagement nagged at the back of my mind. I really was not sure I wanted to keep it, especially under the circumstances-- But it could not be helped. At lunch I wandered in a little nervously, my eyes flitting all over the place to see if I had been noticed. I had not, other than by the usual crowd, which is now two-thirds of our girls' club. As I sat down with my salad the others all looked oddly at me. 'What?' I wondered.
Then a voice came directly behind me. 'Is this a closed party, or may a stranger join you?'
I whirled round and gazed up at Stephen. Someone else waved him towards the seat beside me and he set down his tray and sat. 'Hi,' I finally said.
'Hi,' he said, and unfolded his napkin. 'How was your weekend?'
'All right....' I was blushing. All five of the others were staring at me in silence. I realised that none of them, save Jessy, had ever seen me with a boy before. And this, of course, was the prom king-- three of the others had not even been there but the story was already widely circulated directly and indirectly, and-- from what I have heard-- thanks to FaceBook, AIM, text messages and even old-fashioned telephones. Rumour even has it someone scrawled 'Janine rocks' in one of the boys' toilets. (And no, it does NOT really say 'Janine sucks'. For one thing, it would be inaccurate.)
Stephen and I did not talk about The Dance. We discussed our other impressions of the prom, the food, the place, the table arrangements... and the Cadillac. He asked and Jessy and I both told him about the weekend spent working Mommy's ice-cream parlour, and he seemed impressed with that, the costumes, the location, staying on our own for two nights, and all. All he had to report from his own weekend was having worked in the distressed-animal shelter over Saturday and Sunday and assisting a 'pretty cool' veterinarian who showed him how to bandage a racoon's leg and then meeting a little girl and her family who were unexpectedly and tearfully reunited with a recovering cocker spaniel they had lost weeks ago. From his telling of it the whole table of girls were sappy with damp eyes and pathetic sighs of 'Awww....' I do not think any of us had expected to find Stephen the talented comedic actor-- and our prom king-- was such a gentle, noble-minded philanthropist when it came to helping unfortunate creatures.
As we cleared off at the bell he and I stood up together. 'You know, Janine,' he said, 'I really wish there was another dance coming up.'
I felt something let go in my tummy-- okay, maybe not my tummy. 'You do?' (Why did I say that?)
'If I had known you needed a date-- if I had thought, I guess--'
'But I had Jessy,' I said.
'Ah, yes, a sister, the perfect backup date,' he smiled. 'Girls are so lucky. You don't know how lucky you are to have each other. You have this nice club, all these good friends, you have each other for company-- Sometimes it's hard being a guy.'
I stood there in the centre of the cafeteria whilst people went round us with their books and food trays, just gazing into his eyes.
'What I mean is-- I think I should have asked you to go with me. If you would have--'
'I would have,' I said bluntly.
He smiled. 'Really?'
I just nodded like there was something rattling loose in my head.
'Well, maybe you would this time, if I asked you to go with me... maybe tonight, like for supper? It doesn't have to be anything special, just--'
'Yes,' I said.
He smiled at me again. I love that smile. 'Really?'
I nodded. 'Yes really. It sounds nice.'
'Well,' he said, looking round himself like he was not sure what to say next, 'that's cool then.' So I told him where I live and he said he would collect me round six. He has a car, an older Chevy, kind of an apple red-- Daddy would like it. In fact Daddy would like Stephen. He's polite and intelligent and articulate enough to hold an actual conversation... and he's going to Eastern Shore for biology before going pre-med.... My head felt light as I turned round to go, but all the girls had gone. That's Jessy-- she has never eavesdropped on me, mainly out of respect, but also because she knows she will get the best of it from me personally anyway. I took one step and felt my knees go weak. Then the bell rang-- I was late for Chemistry.
I suppose some people might say Janine's been late for chemistry for too long.
...
Prom photos were distributed today during homeroom. Apparently the photographers made short work of that-- though they did have four days, even if it was over a holiday. Of course Jessy and I didn't have any coming. Michelle, the Ladybugs' coach, said she had already framed and hung up the best of the photos taken on home plate the other day, and that's good enough for me.
'Hey,' Becky said to me, 'so how was the prom?'
I looked at her. 'It was all right.'
'Janine rocked,' Vivian said beside us, and I turned and glared at her.
Becky giggled. 'You rocked? How did you rock?'
I shrugged. 'Oh, it was nothing.' The bell went off and the Pledge began.
In the PE cabana a girl called April leaned over and said, 'Oh! Janine! My God-- I couldn't believe it! Poor Stephen! And lucky you!'
Her friend said, 'Awww, Stephen was pretty lucky too.' I blushed at that.
In the corridors people who never even seemed to notice me said hello. Two girls I don't even know came down the gallery once, one after the other, with their hands raised to slap my palm as they passed. It was embarrassing. Did any of this matter this much?
And so all morning a certain tentative engagement nagged at the back of my mind. I really was not sure I wanted to keep it, especially under the circumstances-- But it could not be helped. At lunch I wandered in a little nervously, my eyes flitting all over the place to see if I had been noticed. I had not, other than by the usual crowd, which is now two-thirds of our girls' club. As I sat down with my salad the others all looked oddly at me. 'What?' I wondered.
Then a voice came directly behind me. 'Is this a closed party, or may a stranger join you?'
I whirled round and gazed up at Stephen. Someone else waved him towards the seat beside me and he set down his tray and sat. 'Hi,' I finally said.
'Hi,' he said, and unfolded his napkin. 'How was your weekend?'
'All right....' I was blushing. All five of the others were staring at me in silence. I realised that none of them, save Jessy, had ever seen me with a boy before. And this, of course, was the prom king-- three of the others had not even been there but the story was already widely circulated directly and indirectly, and-- from what I have heard-- thanks to FaceBook, AIM, text messages and even old-fashioned telephones. Rumour even has it someone scrawled 'Janine rocks' in one of the boys' toilets. (And no, it does NOT really say 'Janine sucks'. For one thing, it would be inaccurate.)
Stephen and I did not talk about The Dance. We discussed our other impressions of the prom, the food, the place, the table arrangements... and the Cadillac. He asked and Jessy and I both told him about the weekend spent working Mommy's ice-cream parlour, and he seemed impressed with that, the costumes, the location, staying on our own for two nights, and all. All he had to report from his own weekend was having worked in the distressed-animal shelter over Saturday and Sunday and assisting a 'pretty cool' veterinarian who showed him how to bandage a racoon's leg and then meeting a little girl and her family who were unexpectedly and tearfully reunited with a recovering cocker spaniel they had lost weeks ago. From his telling of it the whole table of girls were sappy with damp eyes and pathetic sighs of 'Awww....' I do not think any of us had expected to find Stephen the talented comedic actor-- and our prom king-- was such a gentle, noble-minded philanthropist when it came to helping unfortunate creatures.
As we cleared off at the bell he and I stood up together. 'You know, Janine,' he said, 'I really wish there was another dance coming up.'
I felt something let go in my tummy-- okay, maybe not my tummy. 'You do?' (Why did I say that?)
'If I had known you needed a date-- if I had thought, I guess--'
'But I had Jessy,' I said.
'Ah, yes, a sister, the perfect backup date,' he smiled. 'Girls are so lucky. You don't know how lucky you are to have each other. You have this nice club, all these good friends, you have each other for company-- Sometimes it's hard being a guy.'
I stood there in the centre of the cafeteria whilst people went round us with their books and food trays, just gazing into his eyes.
'What I mean is-- I think I should have asked you to go with me. If you would have--'
'I would have,' I said bluntly.
He smiled. 'Really?'
I just nodded like there was something rattling loose in my head.
'Well, maybe you would this time, if I asked you to go with me... maybe tonight, like for supper? It doesn't have to be anything special, just--'
'Yes,' I said.
He smiled at me again. I love that smile. 'Really?'
I nodded. 'Yes really. It sounds nice.'
'Well,' he said, looking round himself like he was not sure what to say next, 'that's cool then.' So I told him where I live and he said he would collect me round six. He has a car, an older Chevy, kind of an apple red-- Daddy would like it. In fact Daddy would like Stephen. He's polite and intelligent and articulate enough to hold an actual conversation... and he's going to Eastern Shore for biology before going pre-med.... My head felt light as I turned round to go, but all the girls had gone. That's Jessy-- she has never eavesdropped on me, mainly out of respect, but also because she knows she will get the best of it from me personally anyway. I took one step and felt my knees go weak. Then the bell rang-- I was late for Chemistry.
I suppose some people might say Janine's been late for chemistry for too long.
...
21 May 2009
The old-school girls' club
Tuesday, May 19th
When Gran was here she left a few issues of this nostalgia magazine called 'Reminisce' here for my dad, because he gets a good laugh out of it sometimes. In one there was an article about the 40th reunion of a girls' club from southern California. It seems that in 1965 these 9th-grade girls started a club, just to hang around together and stay friends. And they had rules, like-- you must like to dance, or you must be popular but with a good reputation. It was adorably cute. And they found that everyone thought it was really corny and immature, till they started hosting dances in and around school and actual artistes showed up, the famous and soon-to-be famous, and by 11th and 12th grade they were rightfully the most influential and popular girls in the school. They raised money for charities and sponsored community activities (like babysitting-- it was 1965) and the club came to be so important to their lives that when they held a 40th reunion in 2005, all the former members showed up for it.
I mentioned it to Jessy, and she read the article too and declared, 'We should start one.'
I made a face. 'Who would join it?'
She looked at me like I had no clue at all. 'Everyone,' she said. 'I know at least four people who will join it right now.'
I think I knew the same four people. 'But six girls isn't exactly a club. It's just a clique.'
'Then we'll do something, like those girls did. Hold a dance. Do a car wash. Read to little kids.'
This was about three weeks ago. As of tonight, May 19th, 2009, there is an actual club.
We have nine members-- like the girls in 1965 had. It's Becky, Rita, Josie, Anna, Paulette, two other girls and Jessy and me. Three of us are in 11th, four of us are in 10th and one is in 9th. We figured we wouldn't even mention it to seniors, you know. We had our first meeting tonight and this is what we have resolved. When Jessy and I get situated at the beach house we're having a nine-girl sleepover for a weekend there as an initial social event. We can do a lot of planning then. Our first scheduled activity is a fund-raising car wash after Memorial Day. Anna's father has a hardware shop and we're holding it in the car park. We'll use the money to host a slightly bigger event, probably a party, near the end of the summer-- we can advertise it using a club FaceBook site and email. We are getting shirts made for summer and jackets for the autumn, and Jessy wants me to help her write a club song. I am the president-- there was no vote, they just all agreed. Jessy is the social secretary and Becky is the treasurer.
I know half the school--- no, about three-quarters of the school-- is going to think it's corny and immature. We will get accused of playing clubhouse or being a clique or being gay (people here love to throw that one round). But there is also a great opportunity to do some good things for other people, which is the only real point of a social club anyway. And once we have some idea of where we're going with it all we will invite new members. We will be very discerning--there will be initiation rites and a pledge taken. But we're not going to have dues. It's all about commitment, and money isn't the best way to define that.
Of course we're not advertising it to the whole school at this point. We have all summer to come up with a plan for that. But we intend that by September we will be able to stand tall and say we're a part of something that means something. Some of the girls suggested we host a Sadie Hawkins dance in the beginning of October. That will probably be the event that makes or breaks us... but we'll see.
Wish us luck!
...
When Gran was here she left a few issues of this nostalgia magazine called 'Reminisce' here for my dad, because he gets a good laugh out of it sometimes. In one there was an article about the 40th reunion of a girls' club from southern California. It seems that in 1965 these 9th-grade girls started a club, just to hang around together and stay friends. And they had rules, like-- you must like to dance, or you must be popular but with a good reputation. It was adorably cute. And they found that everyone thought it was really corny and immature, till they started hosting dances in and around school and actual artistes showed up, the famous and soon-to-be famous, and by 11th and 12th grade they were rightfully the most influential and popular girls in the school. They raised money for charities and sponsored community activities (like babysitting-- it was 1965) and the club came to be so important to their lives that when they held a 40th reunion in 2005, all the former members showed up for it.
I mentioned it to Jessy, and she read the article too and declared, 'We should start one.'
I made a face. 'Who would join it?'
She looked at me like I had no clue at all. 'Everyone,' she said. 'I know at least four people who will join it right now.'
I think I knew the same four people. 'But six girls isn't exactly a club. It's just a clique.'
'Then we'll do something, like those girls did. Hold a dance. Do a car wash. Read to little kids.'
This was about three weeks ago. As of tonight, May 19th, 2009, there is an actual club.
We have nine members-- like the girls in 1965 had. It's Becky, Rita, Josie, Anna, Paulette, two other girls and Jessy and me. Three of us are in 11th, four of us are in 10th and one is in 9th. We figured we wouldn't even mention it to seniors, you know. We had our first meeting tonight and this is what we have resolved. When Jessy and I get situated at the beach house we're having a nine-girl sleepover for a weekend there as an initial social event. We can do a lot of planning then. Our first scheduled activity is a fund-raising car wash after Memorial Day. Anna's father has a hardware shop and we're holding it in the car park. We'll use the money to host a slightly bigger event, probably a party, near the end of the summer-- we can advertise it using a club FaceBook site and email. We are getting shirts made for summer and jackets for the autumn, and Jessy wants me to help her write a club song. I am the president-- there was no vote, they just all agreed. Jessy is the social secretary and Becky is the treasurer.
I know half the school--- no, about three-quarters of the school-- is going to think it's corny and immature. We will get accused of playing clubhouse or being a clique or being gay (people here love to throw that one round). But there is also a great opportunity to do some good things for other people, which is the only real point of a social club anyway. And once we have some idea of where we're going with it all we will invite new members. We will be very discerning--there will be initiation rites and a pledge taken. But we're not going to have dues. It's all about commitment, and money isn't the best way to define that.
Of course we're not advertising it to the whole school at this point. We have all summer to come up with a plan for that. But we intend that by September we will be able to stand tall and say we're a part of something that means something. Some of the girls suggested we host a Sadie Hawkins dance in the beginning of October. That will probably be the event that makes or breaks us... but we'll see.
Wish us luck!
...
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