So let me get this straight real quick? The girl who walked into class today with the plain black tank top on is distracting me from getting my school work done so she gets sent home because her sleeves weren’t at least 5 fingers wide, but the boy clicking his pen in the middle of the AP English test who is distracting the whole class but we aren’t allowed to say anything or risk getting a 0 on one of the most important tests of high school gets no consequences?
I look up during my test and I see the empty seat of the girl who just got sent home. We were told that the room would be hot because the air conditioner broken so she left her jacket in the car. Not thinking anything of it she goes down the hall to the bathroom before the 2 hour test starts.
Suddenly a hand on her shoulder brings her from her last minute pep talk to herself. The princi“pal” has a few choice words for her. He doesn’t care that she is Valedictorian and will be graduating in less than a month. He doesn’t care that not 20 feet away is the classroom she was going back to. He just sees her exposed shoulders and leads her to his office.
As the bell rings she still isn’t back. We look around and wonder what happened. Her friend runs to the bathroom thinking she had last minute jitters about the upcoming test. Opening the door all out of breath she exclaims that the girl isn’t in the bathroom and she isn’t in the halls.
So we worry. The test starts in 10 minutes. We wait, and wait. Three minutes to go and she walks in, puffy eyed, mascara running down her face. We try to comfort her as she grabs her bag and explains that she is being sent home for standing up to the man that is about to ruin her life for explaining the situation of why her shoulders weren’t covered.
He wouldn’t have it. He wouldn’t listen to the fact that her jacket was out in her car because she, “should have brought it in with her.” You see, “She signed a ‘contract’ at the beginning of the year stating that she had read the code of conduct which includes the dress code rules, so she should have known better.”
He sends the girl home. Not giving her a chance to tell him that her test is starting soon. The test that will save her hundreds of dollars in college fees because she will skip through all the English classes in college and not have to take them in her quest to gain a higher education.
He won’t have it. She can no longer speak because she is thinking about the disappointment her parents are going to feel when they hear. She can no longer breath because she is thinking about the disappointment she herself feels about the minuscule situation that could have easily been avoided had she not gone to the bathroom at that time. And she can no longer move because she is thinking about the disappointment her peers are going to feel when they realize that there is nothing that they can do to help her.
The princi“pal” is standing in the doorway waiting to escort her out, and she is just standing by her desk with the number two pencils she had sharpened and ready, with the travel sized tissues that she always had in her purse laid out ready just in case, and with her water, the clear bottle with no label so it followed all the restricting school rules, and she gathered them as we all stare and watch as she walks through the door with the princi“pal” close behind.
The test has been delayed as we wait for the instructor to get back who has gone out to try to reason with the man. The girl is no longer in the right mind set to take this test even if she wanted to. She is so ashamed and humiliated by the fact that two more fingers would have given her sleeves the proper width and none of this would have happened.
To no avail the instructor comes back empty handed. Her black tank top has landed her a one way ticket to a 0 on the AP English test. A test that we would have all been focused on and not failing because this girls shoulders were exposed.
But he wouldn’t have it. You sent the bar high with a good student and show everyone that no one can get away with it. If you let them think that the smart kids have privileges then the ones who don’t apply themselves as strongly get the wrong ideas.
So the instructor starts to read the required rules before handing out the packets. “Number two pencil only on the scantron part. Blue or black ink only on the written section.”
And then we being. Trying to force the image of our valedictorian sitting in her car a tear sticken, runny nosed, mess. We try to focus. Hearing the turing of others kids papers as they scan through the answers and re-read the questions. But then we hear it. *click* *click* *click*
I can no longer focus. The only thing I can hear is the clicking of the pen from the boy who sits behind me. I look back to try to signal him to stop, I see a few other faces, disgusted and hateful, peering in his direction. I get told to keep my eyes on my own paper and face forward.
*click* *click* *click* I can no longer take it and I am about to say something when I am reminded by the instructor that noises will not be tolerated and speaking is cause for automatic removal. I hope the boy hears that “noises will not be tolerated.”
Not 10 minutes go by when I hear it. Once, twice, three times. *click* *click* *click* Then another three. *click* *click* *click* Faster and faster the clicking is coming, and I look up. Five or six faces from the class all stare at the boy and if looks could kill there would be a puddle of blood pooling around my feet.
I try to focus. I close out every sound I can and try to finish the test while I still have time. *click* *click* *click* I bubble in A. *click* *click* *click* I underline part of the text. *click* *click* *click* I put a star next to number 28 because I can’t decide if the answer is C or D.
I finally get to the writing portion and I grab my pen. I read the prompt and start scribbling my chicken scratch across the pages. I’m not two paragraphs in when we are given the 15 minute warning. The clicking becomes faster.
“That is it, writing utensils down.”
I basically get the point across, but I know that it is not worthy of a superior score. I lay my head down and I wait. As the instructor picks up the test packets and the answer booklets I slowly lift my head.
I turn to the boy who made that test one of the worst experiences of my life, and right as I am about to implode and cause a scene, I take a breath. I am not the only one who had to deal with this. The entire class is glaring at the boy who sits behind me and burning holes in every fiber of his being.
When we are excused, the rest of the class heads to the locker bay to pick up their books for the rest of their classes, but I head to the principal’s office. I explain to him what happened during the test and he told me that there was nothing he could do. It was done and over with and that I should have said something when it was a problem.
I nodded my head in agreement because I should have. Any of us could have, but not even questions to the instructor are allowed during the test because how do the higher powers know that the instructor wasn’t giving us answers. If a single one of us had said a word we would have been escorted out of the room and our tests would have been graded accordingly.
So I looked at my princi“pal” and I said in the calmest voice I could muster, “So let me get this straight real quick? The girl who walked into class today with the plain black tank top on is distracting me from getting my school work done so she gets sent home because her sleeves weren’t at least five fingers wide, but the boy clicking his pen in the middle of the AP English test who is distracting the whole class but we aren’t allowed to say anything or risk getting a 0 on one of the most important tests of high school gets no consequences?”
He just looked at me for a few moments not knowing what to say. Again, I nodded and sat with my hand on my lap. Then slowly I stood up, grabbed the scissors of his desk, cut the sleeves off my shirt, and walked out of his office. Not a single teacher said a word to me about my exposed shoulders. Not a single student commented on the fact that they couldn’t get their work done because my upper arms were bare.
So I talked to the princi“pal” at the end of the day. I told him about my experience and how he had tried to play God and pretend to be almighty. I explained to him what he had just done to that girl and how it will definitely mess with her for the rest of her life, and still he had no words.
I walk out of the school. Ashamed and embarrassed at what has taken place in my home away from home. Where I am made to spend eight hours of my day and should feel safe, but instead am treated poorly by peers and by superiors who shame me into making my silly little mistakes a vast production so they seem bigger.
Do I think a dress code should be enforced? Yes.
Do I think that what happened that day was right? No.
There is a difference between shaming and enforcing– making yourself feel strong, and actually implementing the rules. I don’t know. I guess that’s just my take on the situation, but really, how far is too far?
