“Who’s the boss?”
Inaya felt someone nudge her as she walked in step with Mrs. Ford, who, like Inaya, was carrying an armful of binders as they hurried down the hall to the Student Affairs Office.
Inaya and Mrs. Ford turned and found Raymond smiling at them.
The Monday following Raymond’s phone call, Inaya had told Raymond during lunch that she would give the student committee position a try. Now it was Tuesday, just over two weeks since her agreement, and she was already overwhelmed. She had decided to stay after school today to meet with Mrs. Ford, the faculty advisor to the student committee board.
“You’re the boss,” Raymond answered himself, playfully pointing at Inaya.
Inaya grinned beside herself. “Thanks to you.” She rolled her eyes playfully.
Raymond nodded then patted Inaya on the shoulder. “We’ll do great things together,” he said before pushing open an exit door and offering a wave.
“What was that about?” Mrs. Ford asked after the heavy exit door closed behind Raymond and she and Inaya neared the Student Affairs Office.
“It’s a private joke about us,” Inaya said, smiling to herself.
Mrs. Ford raised her eyebrows suspiciously as she kneeled in front of her office door to set the stack of binders on the floor. “About you and Raymond?”
Inaya creased her forehead then laughed as she realized how her response sounded to the faculty advisor. She shook her head.
“I mean you and me,” Inaya said. “Well, the whole student board actually.”
Keys jingled as Mrs. Ford found the one for her office and unlocked the door.
“Really?” A confused grin was on Mrs. Ford’s face as she pushed open the door and met Inaya’s gaze.
“B-O-S-S,” Inaya said as she walked into the office ahead of Mrs. Ford and let the binders spill onto the front desk. She looked back over her shoulder to smile at Mrs. Ford, who was now entering carrying the stack of binders she’d set outside the door.
“It’s the unofficial acronym for the name I gave the board,” Inaya said.
Mrs. Ford’s expression was of thoughtful humor as she tried to grasp what Inaya was saying.
“Board of Student Statesmen,” Inaya said. “Raymond said it sounds like some sexist, male-dominated political group.”
Mrs. Ford laughed as she walked around her desk and settled into her office chair. She propped an elbow on her desk and rested a loose fist beneath her chin, intrigued as Inaya explained.
“He says women are the real bosses in the group.” Inaya sat down on a folding chair against a wall, laughter in her voice. “So every time he sees me, he says, ‘Who’s the BOSS?’”
Inaya sighed, a smile lingering on her face. “But it’s also his way of saying females make guys think that men are running things.” She folded her arms in front of her. “While women secretly plot to run even the guys.”
Mrs. Ford’s eyes widened in amusement. “He told you that?”
“Yes,” Inaya said, her eyes sparkling with laughter, “but not in those words.”
Mrs. Ford grinned as she reached for a binder and opened it, her eyes scanning its content. “Well, I must admit, he does have a point.”
Inaya shrugged. “I guess so.”
An awkward silence followed as Mrs. Ford flipped through the pages of the binder.
“But I think his little private joke is more private than you think.”
Inaya creased her forehead, an uncomfortable smile on her face. “What do you mean?”
Mrs. Ford wore a pleasant expression as she skimmed the last part of the binder then closed it. When she did not respond immediately, Inaya thought Mrs. Ford had not heard the question.
“Inaya,” Mrs. Ford said as she met Inaya’s gaze, “you do know why I didn’t agree to have Lyrica chair the board, don’t you?”
Inaya’s smile faded until her eyebrows were knitted in confusion. Inaya parted her lips to form the question that was in her mind, but she realized there were no words for it.
“I’m not sure how much Raymond told you,” Mrs. Ford said, as if deciding it was better to be frank than polite. She met Inaya’s perplexed expression with a gentle smile. “But it was Lyrica’s idea to start this committee.”
Inaya’s mouth fell open in shock. “But I thought…”
Mrs. Ford waved her hand dismissively. “I know what you thought. And it’s partly true.” She nodded. “The school did ask Raymond to help form this committee.”
When Inaya did not speak, Mrs. Ford continued.
“But that was only because we knew Lyrica was not the right person for the job.” Mrs. Ford drew in a deep breath and exhaled.
“Yes, we liked Lyrica’s idea,” she said. “But we had some ideas of our own. And, well…” She smiled apologetically. “Let’s just say, we didn’t think they matched Lyrica’s.”
Inaya found herself wondering at the faculty advisor’s use of the pronoun we. Inaya shook her head. “I’m sorry. I don’t understand…”
Mrs. Ford glanced thoughtfully toward the curtain that divided her office and the humble photo studio Inaya had entered to take her school picture. Inaya could tell the faculty advisor was deciding the best way to explain what she meant.
“Lyrica’s an atheist,” Mrs. Ford said finally. She met Inaya’s gaze sadly. “And frankly, we find that offensive.”
Inaya nodded slowly, but she had a sinking feeling that she herself had to be careful of offending Mrs. Ford.
“Yes, this is a public school,” Mrs. Ford said. “But our obligation to separate church from state doesn’t make us sacrilegious. We were originally a private Christian school, and it was only in the last twenty years that it was shut down then reopened as a state-funded institution.”
Mrs. Ford sighed, her gaze distant momentarily. “We couldn’t afford to keep it private, and we regret that,” she said. “But our mission remains to keep God as a foundational part of the learning experience here.”
Mrs. Ford smiled at Inaya, as if that kind expression would explain everything—as if she and Inaya were on the same page.
“And that means seeing to it that those who represent us are only God-fearing Christians.”
“But…” Inaya’s mind raced. “What about the Distinguished Student Award?”
Part of the role of the student board was to make recommendations to teachers and administration regarding outstanding students who might have otherwise been overlooked. Naturally, student recommendations did not affect the school’s final decision in any official capacity, but Mrs. Ford assured Inaya and the board members that their suggestions would be taken seriously. Was Inaya now to approve only Christian students?
“We have to exclude other religions?” Inaya hoped she didn’t sound as exasperated as she felt.
Mrs. Ford smiled, but Inaya sensed the faculty advisor was enjoying a private joke herself. “Of course not,” Mrs. Ford said, but Inaya heard the obligatory tone of Mrs. Ford’s voice. “But that would be ideal.”
Inaya forced a smile, but she didn’t know what to say.
“But you have nothing to worry about,” Mrs. Ford said. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re our first choice.”
Inaya met Mrs. Ford’s gaze with her eyes widened. She opened her mouth to protest, but no sound came out.
“But no need to worry about all that now.” A grin formed on Mrs. Ford’s face as she handed a binder to Inaya. “For now, we’re just happy to have you on board.”