It’s time to admit my role in the insurrection.
Not that insurrection, sillies! My insurrection succeeded, and no one was hurt.
Let’s roll back the calendar to my last year at Raymond Senior High School. Don’t fret about the year. Hint: carmaker Ford still sold the Pinto.
The scene was Mr. Junger’s “World Problems” class. I can’t see the 25 or so students from Mr. J’s perspective, but it was spring, just weeks from graduation. I’m guessing we were squirrelly.
Many details remain sketchy, and not because I’m being cagey to avoid prosecution. Blame a memory stretched like soap film across decades.
So I don’t recall what instigated our uprising. But I remember the result. Students took over the class. Mr. J stood down. We wrote a constitution, with officials named for characters from “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland.” We held an election. We printed paper money.
Mr. J probably tolerated the insurrection for its teaching potential. But, in time, he was restored as supreme leader.
Successful insurrectionists often recast themselves as revolutionaries. We students succeeded – temporarily.
And no subpoenas. Yet.
Go, Jeff!
And, noticeably absent from the school administrators’ reasoning is that far more sugary desserts are available, no? Cut down on those with fresh fruit; give them chocolate milk every other day. (Not that I’m a booster for kids having sugar–they get far too much.)