I skipped breakfast and caught the early bus the next morning. I’d been too wired to sleep much. Mainly because I was so angry by the time I finished writing my blog post, but also because I knew I’d bought myself a one-way ticket to a Branding.
When I got to school, I went straight to the New Media Studies lab and logged on to Whit’s Wit. At first, the lead story appeared to be my scheduled post about the soccer final. I hoped the provocative headline under the photo of Whitlam’s disappointed soccer fans would get people reading, and that enough of them would read it to get the message before Brandy pulled it down.
Whitlam’s shame
Posted by Allison Miller, Tuesday, 9.57 pm
Whitlam High School has more than its 12–2 defeat to Westside Grammar in the district cup to be embarrassed about. For a school whose motto is Unity in Diversity, Whitlam has proved itself to be anything but accepting of difference. Recently, homophobic abuse and vandalism at our school has gone unpunished, even though most of us were aware of it.
Research shows that same-sex attracted young people face more bullying, abuse and violence than other teens, and that 80% of this takes place in schools. Eighty per cent!!! This couldn’t happen without the complicity of Whitlam’s students, and many of our teachers. Even if we don’t call people names or write about them on walls or pay them out online, if we stand by and do nothing to stop the abuse, we have to share the blame.
Whitlam’s gay–straight alliance is a starting point, but we need more than goodwill. It’s time for the student council to start representing all students by amending the anti-bullying policy to specifically include homophobia, and for all of us to unite in our diversity.
“Simon said I might find you here.” Sally wheeled the chair next to mine closer so that she could see the screen.
I watched tensely as she read my post, waiting for her to tell me what a hypocrite I’d been and preparing myself for a dressing-down.
But when Sally finished reading, all she said was, “No wonder so many people have asked about joining the alliance this morning.”
I took a deep breath. “Sally, about the other day, after Science … I’m sorry. I was so tied up in my own dramas that I wasn’t thinking about what anyone else was going through. If you still want me to be co-president, I’d really like to.”
“Are you sure?” asked Sally. “You’re not worried about what people will say about you hanging out with a bunch of fags and diesel dykes?”
“They can’t say anything worse about me than they have already, can they? And I propose that our first order of business should be putting pressure on the student council to make sure that Whitlam’s bullying policy includes banning homophobic language like that, young lady.”
“Okay, you can lead the charge on that cause. I’ll be flat out organising the GSA launch event. We have to line up some decent entertainment.”
“Actually, I think I might know just the band.”
“Vertigo Pony would be honoured,” said Maz from behind me. “As long as we’re headlining – SkoolDaze winners don’t do support acts, you know.”
“I think that can be arranged,” said Sally, standing and pulling on her backpack. “I’ll sort out a date and get back to you. See you later, Al.”
Maz took Sally’s seat at the computer.
“How long were you eavesdropping for?” I asked.
“I wasn’t eavesdropping,” said Maz indignantly. “I was standing silently behind you listening to your conversation. I came to see what all the fuss was about. I thought I was the one coming up with the ultimate revenge on Josh Turner, but I hear you beat me to it. The queue for the computers in the library is out the door.”
“Really?” I couldn’t pretend I wasn’t pleased. “It’s not revenge, though. I just felt like it was time I released my inner loudmouth.”
“Whatever your reason, it’s got everyone talking. Even the soccer team read it, since they thought it was about how Josh lost them the cup.”
“You should’ve seen how narked they were with him after the game, Maz. When Simon was trying to get a photo to go with my post they were practically braying for Josh’s blood. I heard one of them saying there’s no way he’ll make team captain again next year.”
“That’s karma for you. I was right about one thing, though: Josh missing the game – or at least half of it – was the perfect revenge.”
“Yes, Mazzle, you were right.”
“Are you ready to admit I’m right about anyone else yet?”
The PA system sounded its now-familiar crackle, followed by Brandy’s booming voice. “Allison Miller to the deputy-principal’s office IMMEDIATELY!”
“Deny everything,” said Maz, straightening my tie before I went to the gallows Brandy’s office.
Brandy’s face was florid with anger. She paced the three steps in each direction her office allowed.
“I suppose you think you’re smart,” she said. “Bypassing the Whit’s Wit workflow to publish your opinion without my approving it.”
“No, Miss,” I said, my mouth so dry with fear that I could barely speak. This time Brandy would expel me for sure. “I sent it through the normal workflow. Didn’t you get it?”
“Don’t play innocent with me. Some time between 6.00 pm yesterday and 6.00 am today, someone saw fit to access the school’s content management system and publish that post on the home page. As we speak, Mr Masch is having the incident investigated by an expert. Soon I’ll know not only when it was done, but by whom.”
“I’m afraid not,” said a voice behind me. Simon was standing in the hallway outside Brandy’s office. I shuffled over to make room for him to squeeze in. “Excuse me for interrupting, Ms Brand, but I thought I should report to you, in Mr Masch’s absence. The server logs have already been written over, and it seems that my memo recommending that they be backed-up daily was ignored.”
“And what does that mean? In English.”
“It means,” said Simon, “that there’s no evidence of how the workflow got corrupted. None that can be traced, anyway. I did find instances of recent unauthorised access to the school’s databases, and some other applications, but I’ll compile a full report for Mr Masch on those.”
Brandy looked like she was about to explode. She had to take a couple of deep breaths before she could speak again. “Given the lack of proof, Allison, I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt. This time. But I want you to remember that just because you have a point to make doesn’t mean you can hijack the school’s website to do it. Do I make myself clear?”
“Crystal clear, Ms Brand. Thank you.”
“And Mr Lutz, if you tamper with the workflow settings again you’ll receive an official warning.”
“Yes, Miss.”
I waited until we were out of Brandy’s firing range earshot before speaking. “Thankyouthankyouthankyou!”
Simon shrugged. “There’s nothing to thank me for. I did it to cover my own back.”
“But you overrode the settings for me, so thank you. Also, I owe you an apology.”
“For what?”
I didn’t know where to begin, but I took a deep breath and started at the top of the list. “A) for accusing you of being Camille, b) for being rude and mean and taking out my bad moods on you, c) for not thanking you for your help in Science, and d) well … for the last eleven years, basically. Do you think we can put all that behind us and try being real friends?”
Simon nodded. “I’d like that.”
We gave each other an awkward-but-friendly hug to seal the deal. He smelled like lemons and soap. It was a good combination.
“Let’s go and tell Maz how you saved me from Brandy’s evil clutches.”
Al Miller dodged a Branding.