Because when I arrive back at school after my deposition, I know exactly what I’m going to do.
Back at my office, I say hello to the staff, head straight to my office and close the door.
The Chamberlains are really going to hate this. I create a few pages of notes for myself, and a handout in case anyone is curious.
I then buzz the assistant headmaster and the head of the art department to come into my office.
When they are all assembled in my office, I inform them of my plan. “We are not going to take down the statue. We are educators. We are going to use this as a teaching moment.”
When I explain my plans, they are slightly wary but I win them over.
I ask them to gather supplies and to help me prepare a special presentation for the students after school.
And then, I call Ms. Degrassi for a quick phone conversation.
“We’re not going to take the statue down,” I tell her. “I changed my mind.”
She’s quiet for a moment and then says, “Glad I could help you come to your senses.”
Wow. She’s actually going to take credit for my mind changing. “Oh, sweetie. It’s not you. It was me. I had already decided this before I even met you.” It’s kind of a lie, but not exactly. I’d mulled this idea over many times but had never let it surface.
She huffs at my reply. “By whatever means necessary, as long as it’s staying up and we don’t have to put the school through any more drama."
“Wait,” I say before she hangs up. “Don’t you want to know what we’re going to do with it?”
She sighs, anxious to get off the phone. “Look, I don’t care if you put clown makeup on Scary Mary, I’ve gotta go meet with a corporate client of a for-profit company that pays a hell of a lot more than Greenbridge, okay? The tuition we pay for this school, you shouldn’t even be charged a non-profit rate…”
This piques my interest. Specifically the interest of my more savage days as a debate coach.
“Really? Well, Ms. Degrassi, I would hate to see the women’s swim team go away, wouldn’t you? Or the budget for the theater. I’d hate to do away with superfluous funding for things like attorneys on retainer. But if we charged less for
tuition, that might be just the kind of thing that happens. Or, alternatively, you could step in and volunteer to run the swim team as an independent club, staffed and coached and administered by the parents, and we would grant you the Greenbridge logo and we could lease the pool to you…”
She mutters in agreement. “All right. You’ve made your point.”
But I’m not done. “You see, Ms. Degrassi, it’s the parents’ demands that has made Greenbridge what it is today. If you think it’s too much, then by all means, my advice to you is to lower your standards.”
More silence, and she bids me a short goodbye before hanging up.
“Have a lovely afternoon!” I say to no one.
* * *
I’ve had the teachers gather all the students for an assembly at the lake to unveil my special project.
After I give a short talk, I have several volunteers to help me decorate the statue.
The middle school and high school female students are especially enthusiastic about the process.
When we’re finished, Scary Mary isn’t scary anymore. She looks like a proper 14-year-old girl. She has long hair, wears headphones, and her downcast eyes appear to be reading an open book that’s been attached to her one hand. Her other hand that’s raised in the air appears to be asking for someone to be still while she finishes reading a chapter. Instead of robes, she’s been painted to look like she wears a school uniform cardigan, necktie and a matching plaid skirt.
I see someone else at the back of the crowd looking larger than all the students gathered around, and totally out of place.
Miles.
After everyone leaves to go home, he strides up to me and lays a deep, messy kiss on me like nobody’s watching. Someone is probably watching, but neither of us care anymore.
“After all this? Why?”