Senior year we got a new principal who went all Delores Umbridge on us. Every club, even if it had been around for years, had to get reapproved by him. I was the president of creative writing club at the time and he wouldn't even see me for 2 months into the year to get the approval.

He had a senior meeting and threatened to call the cops on us and have us all arrested if even one of us did senior prank, and threatened to cancle our prom too (which wasn't even good anyways and totally not worth 75 dollar per person tickets, especially since my neighborhood/district is one of the lowest income districts in the county).

I'll also leave this to just add to how crappy he was

Oh! Fun fact about the memorial garden in my post: the idea came from the fact that my highschool- I graduated 2015- had this memorial garden to a teacher that died, in a little quad wedged between the library and C-wing hall (which just housed the art and SpecEd department) and my big bro was talking to my art teacher a few weeks ago and she told him that the principle who'd come in in my senior year- horrible guy I hated him don't get me started- paved it over and locked the doors to the outside so students can't even go out there anymore. So yeah I kinda created the garden here out of petty spite.

I'v been reading through this and I keep seeing mentions of hall monitors and teachers monitoring the halls but like??? Did y'all???? Not have???? Security guards???

At any given time, my (public)school had like 4 security guards and 1 or 2 actual police officers, ON TOP of all the teachers roaming the halls looking for students outta class. They had their own station with a TV linked to the security cams, right at the front door so that they could see everybody coming and leaving.

My senior year we got a new principal and he locked all the doors except the front ones so we all only had one way to enter or leave (he even got rid of being able to wait in the cafeteria if you got there early, so here we were standing outside in -12 degree weather at like 7:30am waiting 30 minutes for the doors to open) and he cut down our transition time between classes to 4 minutes. You wanna get from the lower b-wing to the d-wing math class on time??? Too fucking bad, he closed off the inner-court shortcut so that’s gonna add about 3 minutes to your travel time since about 1200 students are packed in the halls like sardines trying to get to their next classes. You want time to get to your locker? Yeah fucking right. I carried every single item I needed in a book bag because I wouldn’t have time. It was so heavy it gave me headaches and back problems.

Study hall? You had to sign into a register when you entered the classroom of 30+ kids that were expected to be quite and studious even if they literally had no homework (extremely rare cases given you take all your classes every single day with no change in schedule, and get homework from each class every day). By my senior year the library was actually CLOSED OFF to study hall students.

Oh, and btw our hall passes were limited to 2 pages in the back of our (8×4inch) agendas. Every slot got filled out, so if you ran out of spaces halfway through the year? Better hope you have a friend that doesn’t go to the bathroom at school because you won’t be allowed to go.

Ok, so as you know by now, my senior year I got a new principal, who I never called by his last name because I had no respect for him so we will all only know him as Karl.

Background:
What you may or may not have gathered by my characters, I am Jewish, born and raised in a Reformed setting,(So we ate bacon, worked and used electricity on Shabbat and everything. Basically, we followed traditions and observed high holidays for culture's and history's sake rather than religion's.) but that made me no less proud of my identity and my people.

I went to preschool at the JCC, and a Jewish Day school on scholarship from kindergarten through 3rd grade. In 4th grade I started public school, and went through the rest of my school career in the same district with generally the same kids. Our schools were actually made up of two districts, let's call them SE and LH. SELH Schools were predominately Black-65.5% Black, 25.4% White, 6.3% mixed, and 2.8% other- so you'd think race issues were a whole different ballgame in a school where you could get your ass kicked at any moment for being a racist.

Nope.

Starting in middle school, I was erasing swastikas off the stalls of the bathroom while faculty did nothing to clean them off. I was being called a K*ke on one side and a racist on the other(I'm kind of pale as snow and I dressed Punk in Doc's and everything and people immediately deemed that everyone punk was racist which is really funnny considering punk was basically created by Jewish and Black people but that's another story.) I stopped getting called racist when the other kids realized I was chill until pissed off but that's another fight and another story for another time lol.

So to get back on track; My brother was full on punk as well and in highschool already. All 4 years he wore an anti-swastika patch among all the other patches on his jacket. The previous principal pulled him aside once, asked him about it, and once Bro explained that it was an anti-swastika patch- because apparently no one in faculty can see the giant ass red slash through it- the principal said cool and let him on his way, never to be harassed by faculty about it again on the principal's word. My brother graduates when I'm a sophomore, as does pretty much the entire Punk community of the school since they were basically all in his grade.

When I'm a senior I finally settle on a leather jacket that I wear almost every day and I stitch my own anti-swastika patch to it due to the rise in anti-antisemitism around me. On top of wearing this patch, I never take of my large Magen David necklace that my grandma got me. You can see it in this pic here along with my awesome new sweater lol. Basically, "I fucking dare you to come at me, I'm 5'2 and I'll kick your neo-nazi ass."

So I was extremely, vocally, and obviously Jewish. It was never something I tried to hide.

Kind reminder at this point in the story that the old principal had told the faculty not to report students with this patch on, not only my brother, but anyone wearing an anti-swastika patch because it didn't break any rules.

My senior year I finally made the decision to go on meds for my depression and, as such, was having a horrible time during the adjustment/balancing period, on top of hating the school in general and the new principal Karl's attitude.

So I'm still to that day erasing or covering swastikas drawn on stalls while no adults, not even the Jewish ones, do anything to rectify the situation.

I get reported for wearing the patch.

They tell me to take it off, I tell them the only way that'll happen is if they get rid of the swastikas. They never do.

I get reported again. And again. And again. All by faculty. All the students see it for what it is and actually really respect that I wear it it. Yet the faculty would report me claiming that it scared the students.

Finally, one of the four vice principals(one for every grade because there are so many students at the SELH highscool) legit corners me in the library and demands I explain why I haven't gotten rid of the patch yet. I angrily, yet with a forced calm explain to him exactly why I am wearing it and that I'd really appreciate it if faculty stop harassing me because he is the third faculty member that day to stop me or stage-whisper about me to another staff member.

(Side note: A staff member tried to do that with the librarian but I had been president of creative writing club for 3 years and Miss C loved me so she put that staff member in her fucking place.)

This specific V.P. is usually a complete asshole, but he was actually very understanding and told me that it was fine; he understands and I can keep the patch, just please if I see Karl in the hallways where he usually stands between classes, tell Karl that V.P. sorted it out and it was all fine. (Looking back, they all had walkie talkies and V.P. could have told Karl right then and there and avoided a lot of bullshit but whatevs.)

I agree and when the bell rings, head down the hall to tell Karl. Unfortunately, he isn't there and as I've stated before, we only had four minutes to get to class so I ran off to Government.

Cue twenty minutes later and my Gov. teacher gets a call, then tells me I have to go to the principal's office (He'd still yet to see me about approving my club but sure he can make room to get me in trouble ffs.)

So he is now the fourth adult to interrupt my day about this bullshit. I go into his office defensive and ready to cry in frustration. Being an angry crier sucks.

Arms crossed, I tell him exactly what I told V.P. and even told him that I looked for him to tell him but he wasn't there. He waves it off and tells me if I don't take it off then I'll be in trouble. I told him he had no grounds to punish me on and after this it was just him raising his voice to talk over me and tell me he was gonna find a way to punish me. He doesn't let me leave until he's said all he wants to say. (Major violation of my 504 plan, we'll get to that later.)

When he finally lets me out of his office my Gov. class is already over and I'm in the middle of a barely restrained anxiety attack. Despite all the security and whatnot, it's very easy to skip school. I walk home, talking to my mom on the phone the whole time trying to tell her what's happened. When she gets home a few hours later she told me she got a call from him and that he wanted to talk about me. She said that he said he does not want to pursue any type of punishment. Ever the optimist, she says that maybe he's just trying to do his job.



So me and my mom meet with him and my grade's guidance counselor(She was horrible at her job too and basically licked Karl's boots to gain favor) after school. He starts off by not even standing up from his seat or shaking her hand. The rest of us sit down and my mom hands me a stress toy she keeps in her purse for her student. You see, my mom works in schools as well, as a ParaPro in Special Education. She also ran for School Board. Keep that in mind for a little later.

So I'm sitting there strangling this little blue-faced, sand-filled toy waiting for them to start.

First thing Karl says? "So I want to talk about suspension and possible expulsion for your child due to their severe disobedience towards staff members."

My mom's calm smile turns pretty cold at that real fuckin' quick lemme tell ya now.

"I'm sorry," She said in that false-dumb tone that means she knows exactly what's going on. "I was under the impression that this was not a disciplinary meeting. You told me over the phone that you weren't looking to pursue punishment so I figured you wanted to apologoze for violating- or possibly not even looking at- my child's 504 plan and sending them into an anxiety attack so bad that they missed the rest of their school day."

"You must have misunderstood me. Your child is extremely disruptive to the rest of the students here. We've gotten several complaints about them-"

"I was told that all those complaints were from faculty."

"Yes, but on behalf of students-"

"So no actual students have made any complaints?"

"No, but-"

"Then that concern is irrelevant. Maybe you should be teaching your staff to look twice before judging and harassing a child that they are supposed to be guiding and teaching."

"Mrs. Al-"

"No, you're going to listen to me,"- Guys, lemme tell you. My mom is one of those Angry-Calm people. Her voice goes all cold and the room temperature drops with it. "You never took into account my child's 504 plan. You and your faculty consistently harassed them and impeded their ability to learn by pulling them aside or completely out of class. You. A bunch of adults who should know better about bullying a child, constantly went after mine for wearing something that shows pride in their religion and culture, and fights against oppression. What could you possible think was going to happen at this meeting? Bubbie, what else was it you told me they tried to make you take off?"

I spoke up, squeezing the toy like my life depended on it until my mom grabbed my hand. "They (The Counselor) tried to make me take off my Magen David, saying that people could mistake it for a throwing star or other weapon. And on a friday they took me out of the lunchline and tried to force me to take off my tichel(A headscarf that I would wear on Shabbat to show a further respect for my religion/traditons/culture) saying I wasn't allowed to wear pointless head coverings."

"You have no legal right to do that. If a christian kid was wearing a cross, or a muslim child was wearing their head cover and you told them to take it off, they would have already sued you."

So there's a lot more back and forth where my mom basically verbally bitchslaps the principal and counselor before Karl slides over a school agenda with the Student Code of Conduct in it, several lines obviously highlighted. This is where my mom running for school board comes in.

She doesn't even glance at it as she harshly slides it back to him.

"I know that book front to back. Don't give me highlighted quotes. Tell in your words why you want to expel my child."

He stutters a bunch before looking down to the book. "Your child is wearing a symbol that advocates hate against a group."

"Those weren't your own words. Tell. Me. Why."

"Because they are calling for violence against an entire group of people!"

"Who? Nazis? Good, let 'em all die. Next reason."

This went on for a while as well, with my mom pointing out that if a Person of Color had worn and anti-kkk patch, the school wouldn't have done anything about it, as they legally couldn't.

"Just because we aren't obviously a minority by our skin color, just because we aren't easy to pick out, doesn't mean you have any right to treat my child any differently than the black kids at this school, or the Muslim kids, or any other minority."

She was ready to end it at that, already nudging me out of my seat, when Karl cut in again.

"It looks like we're just going to have to hand this over to Pupil services, since obviously you can't see past your child."

Slowly, my mom turned to me before amicably slapping me on my shoulder and laughing. "You were right! He's not just doing his job, He doesn't even know what his job is! He's completely useless."

Mom: 198, Karl:0

So she's getting her purse and coat on and he's physically tring to push her out the door, saying "Good bye, good bye, good bye," with increasing urgency. She shrugs out of his way and looks him in the eyes, even as he tries to look away.

"You will not touch me again. You will wait until I have my coat on. You will wait until I have my purse. And you will wait until I am damn well ready to leave."

(And yes, I was angry crying by the end of this because there was so much stress and he treated my momma terribly while I just sat there so I was pissed and ready to punch him in the face but I had to hold back.)

This lead to two more meetings, with a lady from pupil services coming in to basically mediate. I don't remember these two as well as the first one but I do remember her asking, "Can we reach a compromise where you cover the patch during school hours?"

"That's not a compromise," I told her. "That's them getting what they want by silencing my voice. This isn't about compromising ma'am, as I'm doing nothing wrong that needs to be fixed." Because I was and eloquent and respectful child if a person didn't wrong me.

A week after the third and last meeting, I get called into the principal's office where he tells me he decided to let me wear the patch.

His secretary (who loved me) stops me as I'm leaving and tells me the truth: The Pupil Services lady came in there earlier and told him to "Let them wear the damn patch."

And that was how, for the rest of my senior year, Karl would not look me in the eye or even acknowledge my presence unless it was a murmured "Have a nice day" as I walked out the doors.