Mr. MacDougall presses his fingertips together
like a daddy longlegs on a mirror.
Stacey and I
and Mrs. LaVoie and Papa
are in the principal’s office. My heart is pounding,
and Stacey is breathing fast,
and I’m wondering if it was a good idea
to defy Mr. Sperangio
even though we were always respectful.
But it’s too late now—
we can only go forward.
“How could you do such a thing?” Stacey’s mother asks.
“Mimi, I thought you were a nice girl.”
“She is a nice girl, Mother,” Stacey says.
Then Papa says, “They were exercising their civil right
to protest.”
“Protest what?” Mr. MacDougall asks.
Then I say in a voice as clear as I can make it,
“We think girls should be allowed to take shop,
and we want to speak up about it.”
Mr. MacDougall’s fingers do push-ups faster,
and then he sits forward.
“First of all, that’s silly. Secondly,
there are other ways of changing what you don’t like.
You take it to the school board.”
“But you have to say it’s okay first, don’t you,
Mr. MacDougall?” I ask.
“That’s right. I do. And third,
what if no other girls want to take shop?”
“No one has to do anything,
sir,” Stacey says. “But the boys could take home ec
if they want.”
“She wasn’t raised this way,” her mom says,
and looks at Papa,
who says, “I don’t understand what the girls did wrong.”
“They defied a teacher,” Mr. MacDougall says,
“and the rules,” looking down at his desk.
“We can’t have students defying authority.
It sets a bad example.”
Then he looks at Stacey and me.
“You two will be suspended from school for two weeks.”
He looks at Mrs. LaVoie, who has gone pale,
and then at Papa,
who says, “Isn’t that a bit harsh? Certainly,
there are other ways to handle this.”
“That is my decision,” Mr. MacDougall says.
“It will give the girls time to reflect
on what they’ve done
and how to behave differently.”
I knew we could be suspended,
but I didn’t think we would. And now
Stacey bursts out crying,
but Mr. MacDougall talks over her.
“Besides, what boy wants to take home ec?”