Silent Warrior, Chapter 24

For the first time in what seemed like ages, Scott George felt as though he belonged somewhere. He couldn’t get this feeling at home, so he got it at school when he walked through the front door with students and teachers applauding his arrival. He knew he couldn’t thank them enough for what they had done, so he smiled a warm smile and waved back at them.

But he knew now was not the time for complacency. He never once lost sight of the fact that this was a high school, the testing grounds for the next level of education: college. Scott studied his ass off for the upcoming finals, putting extra effort into US history. He did more than just memorize dates, events, and wars; he delved into their respective contexts. How did structural racism begin? How does it continue into today’s society? Is democracy still alive? The answer to the last question was yes and Scott was living proof. Now he had to show that proof to the rest of the school by acing these final exams.

He sat in his usual desk in his history class and took in all the sights of this new regime. The desks were in almost pristine condition. The students radiated with calmness. The new teacher, Mr. Corbin, didn’t stare down at his pupils like was a giant munching on villagers. Scott’s only concern was with the jock bully who had taunted him in the past. The football stud didn’t look like much of a stud as he kept his head down and fingered what appeared to be a wound on his hand. Scott couldn’t help but feel for the poor guy, whatever happened to him. He even managed to remember the big guy’s name: Craig Dunham. Imagine that: giving somebody a name actually helps humanize that person.

“Good morning, class,” said Mr. Corbin, instantly gaining his pupils’ attentions. “It’s been a long road to get to this point and you’ve all done very well so far. That’s all I’ve ever wanted from any class I teach: universal success. I have no quotas to fill as far as negative marks go. You all have met me halfway and I’m eternally grateful. You’ve proven to me that democracy is far from dead despite what the previous teacher has hammered into you. Without a proper education in a calm work environment, we can’t have a true democracy. But we have just one more part of this long journey and that’s the final exam. There are fifty questions, all of which are multiple choice. You have one hour to complete the test, but you most likely won’t need all of it.”

As soon as Mr. Corbin passed out the scantron sheets and the students had their pencils ready, he said, “Good luck to each and every one of you. I hope you all find the success you’re looking for today and every day after that. Your exam begins…now!” The students went right to work in filling in those bubbles, Scott included.

For the weeks leading up to this exam, Scott felt a sense of peace and quiet surge through his body. He knew he didn’t owe it to just one factor, as there were many pieces of this unbreakable puzzle. Whether it was moving in with Adrienne, feeling welcome under Mr. Corbin’s tutelage, or the fact that he confronted his personal demons and won, Scott was able to focus on his test without burning himself out. Any worms and puppets that had previously invaded his mind had faded into black and white pictures and were pushed aside with relative ease. The EMDR techniques during therapy did their job and then some. But there was no time to reflect, because he only had one hour before the test was over.

What was the major reason for the civil war? Keeping the confederacy from seceding. Who assassinated President Lincoln? John Wilkes-Booth. What does being “sold up the river” mean? Being a slave who was traded by boat to an arguably harsher master. Who was the eventual Supreme Court justice who argued successfully against Plessey vs. Ferguson? Thurgood Marshall. What year was John Lennon assassinated? 1980. Soon enough, the questions and answers came together with enough ease that Scott finished his test before the rest of the class. For that, he took a deep breath and took his test to Mr. Corbin’s office, though the nerves about his grade caused his stomach to hurt and his heart to race.

“I knew it: you didn’t need the full hour after all. Very impressive, Mr. George,” said Mr. Corbin with a warm smile. When Scott didn’t return to his seat, he asked, “Did you have a question for me?”

“Uh, yeah, uh…” Scott cleared his throat to buy his nerves some extra time. “Would it be okay with you if you graded my test now?”

“I don’t see why not. Could you shut the door, please?” Scott did as he was told and allowed his arms to quiver at the sight of Mr. Corbin running his red pen through the test. The new teacher made a few Nike logo gestures with his mouth, but then nodded and gave a half smile. He capped his pen and told Scott, “Okay, that’s an eighty-nine percent. A solid B+.” Scott clutched his chest and breathed a heavy sigh of relief, his nerves turning into warm prickly feelings throughout his arms, shoulders, and scalp. Mr. Corbin said, “That B+ should be a significant boost to your overall grade since it weighs the most. You should be proud.”

“Trust me, Mr. Corbin, you have no idea how relieved I am,” said Scott in between heavy breaths.

“As long as I have you in my office, why don’t you take a seat and talk to me for a minute. Don’t worry, you’re not in trouble for anything. Just please, take a seat.” Scott once again did as he was told, hands folded neatly across his lap and his toes bouncing his leg up and down. Mr. Corbin removed his glasses and asked, “How are you feeling these days, Mr. George?”

“I guess I’m doing alright. It hasn’t been perfect, but…I’m doing okay for now.” Scott’s eyes darted from side to side as he strengthened his efforts to suppress his worm flashbacks. He had a sinking feeling that that’s where this conversation was going.

“That’s good to hear,” said Mr. Corbin with a nod. “It seems as though it’s been a while since you’ve last heard this line of questioning.”

Scott sadly smiled and said, “Am I that easy to read?”

“No question about it. But I do hope you’re not living your life with any regrets. Don’t use your experiences as an excuse to stay down. Use them as a weapon. You’re going to need that weapon after you graduate.” When Scott shrugged his shoulders in confusion, Mr. Corbin pulled a sheet of paper out of a file folder and said, “Sorry, I should probably explain. Principal Williams wanted me to give you this before you left my class for the day.”

Scott gazed at the paper in his hands with confusion and happiness in his expression. “It’s a job application…for being the school’s sensitivity counselor? Oh no, I couldn’t do this. I don’t even have a psychology degree. Shit, I’m not even out of school yet to get one of those things.”

“You don’t need one, Scott. You’re perfectly qualified to have this job. You know what it’s like to need somebody to talk to, somebody to share your feelings with. You’ve gained more experience in just this last semester than most people do in a lifetime. Like I said, use your experiences not as a stopping point, but as a new beginning. Granted, you won’t make a lot of money in your first year. This is school, after all, and teachers and staff members alike struggle with their money enough as it is. But if you need a way to support yourself and your girlfriend while you save up for college, this would be the route to go. What say you, Scott?”

“I…I don’t know what to say…”

Mr. Corbin joked, “Your enthusiasm is underwhelming, Scott. If I was drowning and somebody threw me a handful of life preservers, I’d have a bigger smile on my face than you.” The student and teacher shared a laugh together at the blatantly stolen Dr. Phil line.

“It’s funny that you quoted Dr. Phil just now because…I kind of feel like him by filling out this application.”

“You are almost like him, except far less bullshit.” Scott hiked his eyebrows at Mr. Corbin, who smiled casually and said, “Bet you didn’t hear that word a lot from Mr. Simpson. But just to stay on the safe side, let’s keep it between you and me.”

“It’s a deal,” said Scott as the two of them shook hands. “You wouldn’t happen to have a pen on you right now, would you?”

“You can write with the one I used to grade your test. I’m sure Miss Williams won’t mind a little red ink. She used to have my job, so she used it quite liberally. Here you go,” said Mr. Corbin as he handed Scott the pen. The newly healed high school senior filled out the application with a careful writing speed while the teacher interlaced his fingers behind his own head and relaxed for a while. “Take your time, Scott. There’s no rush. Slow and steady wins the race.” Even more lines that Scott had never heard Mr. Simpson say in his lifetime.

Silent Warrior, Chapter 21

As a handsome middle-aged gentleman in a brown ponytail stood by her side, Linda Williams took center stage of the gymnasium with a microphone in hand. She noticed the sullen expressions on her students’ faces as they filed into the bleachers one by one. Linda caught a glimpse of Adrienne Simpson sitting in the far upper corner by herself. The Principal’s heart ached for her and all of this new trauma she had to deal with. That was not to undermine the sadness of the other students filling the seats, all of which had slumped over postures and saggy frowns.

Right at the time everybody was seated where they needed to be, Linda tapped the microphone a few times and tested it for feedback. She gazed around at the audience before her with a combination of sympathy and strength in her face. She needed to be strong when others felt they had the strength sapped right out of them. Linda took a few breaths to steel her nerves and brought the microphone up to her lips to begin her oratory.

“Before I get started with this emergency school assembly, I want to get two talking points off my chest. First, I’d like to thank each and every one of you for coming today, students and teachers alike. I wish this was all under different circumstances, but it is what it is. And secondly,” Linda patted the ponytail-wearing gentleman on the shoulder and said, “This is Paul Corbin. He will be your new US history teacher as he’s taking over for the departed Tom Simpson. He’ll take good care of you and hopefully you’ll find him to your liking.”

Linda gazed down at her loafers to allow for a beat of silence. Reengaging the audience, she said, “I’m sure some of you heard by now what happened with Tom Simpson and why he’s not here today. For those of you who need to be brought up to speed, let’s just say he won’t be working here anymore. He made a bad decision and it cost him his job. I know that argument sounds familiar to those of you who were close to one Scott George. I know how quickly rumors can travel.”

Pacing back and forth with slowness in her step, Linda cleared her throat and said, “We can debate all day long about the morality of what Scott George did. Then again, we can also do the same thing for Mr. Simpson. And for Alan Young, another student whose name you might recognize. Varying opinions aside, I have a confession to make as it pertains to my tenure here at Perkins High.”

“I haven’t been a perfect Principal. I’ve made a few enemies here and there. But the one thing I can never forgive myself for…is allowing my own students to be victimized. I’ve been blind to the mistreatment going on around here. I thought it was just another day at the office. And then I saw a You Tube video of Scott George sobbing at his father’s grave while the so-called filmmaker Alan Young laughed in the background. That never should have been the ultimate breaking point and for that I’m sorry.”

Pointing her arm at the new teacher, she said, “As you can see from Mr. Corbin’s presence, there are going to be some changes around here. These changes are going to shake the very foundation of this once esteemed high school. No more abuses of power. No more hostile work environments. No more mediocre school lunches. Everything is going to change around here from top to bottom, left to right. Mind you, these changes aren’t going to happen overnight. Reforming a broken school takes time and effort. While I realize that patience isn’t always a virtue among everyone here today, it is needed if we’re to make these changes in a civilized and methodical way.

“To put it as delicately as possible, Scott George hit some bumps in the road during his educational experiences here. I’ve no doubt that many of you feel the same way. The only difference is, his story came to my attention first. And his story is the reason why these radical changes are happening in the first place. As long as they’re happening, I’d love know your stories as well. You know why? Because unlike what Tom Simpson had been preaching this whole time, democracy isn’t dead. Your voices matter now more than ever. You have the right to be heard and there’s not a teacher walking this earth that can take that away from you.

“Which brings me to my final talking point of the day. If you’ve been following the local news, you’d know that Scott is currently sitting in jail awaiting his final sentencing. The crime he committed had no victims, yet he currently has a five thousand dollar bail looming over his head. He doesn’t have a lot of time left before that bail will be revoked and his prison sentence will officially begin.

“Therefore, I am announcing to you all this morning that I’ve set up a Go Fund Me page to pay for his bail. The link to the page will be posted on the bulletin board outside of my office. I don’t expect any one person to fork over the full amount. In fact, I don’t want any of you to think that the new changes to this school will be contingent on how much money is donated to the cause. This isn’t extortion. This is purely optional. One dollar would be fine. A quarter. A nickel. Every little bit will help.

“If you’re wondering why you should care about a kid who was rebellious at his worst and tearful at his best, then know that I would do the same for any one of you if you were placed in a similar situation. No student deserves to be taken advantage of. No student deserves to be silenced. Every student has the right to an education should he or she decide to pursue it. I feel that way about Scott George, a kid with so much promise and so much of an upside that it breaks my heart to see him lose it all over an asinine loophole in the law he allegedly broke.

“I’m not asking you all for help. I’m pleading with you. I’m all but on my hands and knees. I’m asking for this school to be united, not torn apart by bullying or abuse of any kind. If there’s one thing Scott George will teach you all, it’s that empathy and love will go a lot further than empty disciplinary tactics and mindless conformity. He wants you all to be free thinkers. He wants you all to take advantage of the opportunities you have. He wants to see these changes to our school just as much as you all need them. I’ll close this assembly with one final plea: can you find it in your hearts to give Mr. George another chance?”

The expressions on the students’ faces spoke volumes: angry eyebrows, defeated frowns, and tense stares. One by one they left the gymnasium without waiting for Miss Williams to give permission to exit. They never said one word, presumably because for so long they had been fed the “democracy is dead” shtick like it was the worst tasting medicine imaginable, worse than any worm-infested food Scott George would eat in his new home. The only student who didn’t get up and leave was Adrienne Simpson, who pulled her knees up and tucked her head in her lap, feeling dejected and forlorn.

As soon as the bleachers were empty sans Adrienne, Paul Corbin placed a gentle hand on Linda Williams’s shoulder and said, “You did your best to convince them.”

“Did I really, Paul? Is this just another chapter of broken promises and ignorant leadership?” asked Linda in a sullen tone.

“Nobody’s perfect, Linda. Not you, not me, not Scott George himself. But that’s what makes us human. We grow, we adapt, and we learn things. Isn’t that what school is all about?”

“It’s too late for us now,” said Linda. “These changes should have been made long before Scott was taken into custody. I could have prevented all of this from happening. But instead, I sat by and did nothing. I was naïve to think everything was okay. Does anybody really tell you that everything is wrong in their world? For god’s sake, I should have never hired Tom in the first place.”

Linda’s stonewall strength had crumbled all around her and she couldn’t help but shed a few silent tears. How could she remain strong after all that’s happened? She believed it was all her fault and that she had no right to cry about it in the first place. But the tears kept coming, albeit in a silent sob that still caught the attention of Paul Corbin. The new history teacher gave the Principal a hug light enough to avoid awkwardness, but strong enough to know that he was by her side.

“Excuse me, Miss Williams?” said Adrienne, who was now standing within close range and Linda hadn’t even realized it until she picked her tear-soaked face up. The little freshman held out a twenty dollar bill and said, “I want to contribute this to Scott’s bail. It’s not much, but I hope it’s a step in the right direction. I’ve been saving it for a rainy day.”

A smile spread across Linda’s face despite the flowing tears. She accepted the twenty dollar bill and said, “Oh, Miss Simpson, bless your little heart. I know Scott means a lot to you. He means a lot to me too. Speaking of rainy days…” The last sadly joking sentence was punctuated by pointing at her own teary face, hence the raindrops.

“I’ve been doing that a lot lately too, Miss Williams. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. You’re still one of the strongest women I know, next to my mom.”

Linda sighed, “I guess we all have to be strong now, don’t we? I just hope Scott feels the same way. Of course, it’s hard to be strong when you’re all alone behind those barred walls.”