I'm supposed to do other things. Insomnia is back so I haven't slept well the last few nights. And with it a recurrent memory that has been nagging and pestering me without rhyme or reason for the last decade.
It was back last night. My subconscious tugging at my conscious mind, demanding attention. I'm not at an age where an old brain remembers the early years and not much in between. So why a preteen memory?
One of the high schools I went to was a very good one. I could not appreciate at the time because I had no other reference point. We were a class composed of students from all sociodemographics. We valued eachothers interest; the student who was into photography and gave those who are interested a copy. The other student whose parents bred greyhounds and whippets. The student who went through a semi punk phase. A few crafters. The ones who could draw. Our teachers didn't do this; we did. Random luck of non cliques. When I watched the old john Hughes movies like breakfast club; it represented our individualities, but I couldn't relate to the stereotypes not interacting with eachother.
One day we had a two hour class, with a fifteen minute break. The teacher announced a surprise test after the break. We were scared and shocked. For the straight A students it meant that we weren't prepared enough. For the failing students it could mean failing the year. During the break we discussed what to do. Diane who was politically active told us it's against the rules. Andrew, the tall guy had already failed two school years and couldn't risk it. The more we discussed it the more outraged we became. We decided on a collective walk out, a protest of sorts. An entire class couldn't get into trouble, we decided.
The student who listened was Katie. Daughter of two physicians. Top student, quiet. She had a muscle tone disability and couldn't run. Anytime we rotated through picking a team in phys ed, some of the kids would pick her last, others picked her second so they weren't mean.
How to convince her? She always followed the rules. Are you in Katie? To our surprise she said yes. We worked out that we were going to do it alphabetically. We were going to walk out one by one. It felt great. It felt right.
The teacher came back in after the break. The test was distributed. No one got up to leave. There was nervous shifting. We looked at eachother. Andrew got up out of alphabetical order. No one followed. We waited. Then wrote the test. After the test we had a short break. Andrew had waited in the hallway. He was angry. Where were you guys?
I remember that we were silent as we walked past him. Looking down. Embarrassed. Feeling like cowards. I have not encountered a surprise quiz since. And I forgot about this event that lay in the past. We were kids, obeying authority.
I have a vague recollection that it was against school policy to count the mark as it can destroy someone's future.
Over the last decade I witnessed this behavior in adults. Outrage at various injustices. Inciting and encouraging others to take the fall, then backing away. Adults that behave like frightened children. Not wanting to get involved.
The Outrage? Never more than a Netflix popcorn movie, fueled by self-righteous hypocrisy.




