The Difference Between You and Me(46)
“How do you know those are all mine?”
“Don’t waste my time,” Snediker says curtly. Jesse looks down, chastened. “Here’s what I want to say to you about this file. A friendly warning from me to you. You might think these are a funny joke, but this kind of activity can land you in very hot water.”
“I don’t think they’re a funny joke,” Jesse manages quietly.
“You might think a little tape on a couple of walls is a trivial matter, but destruction of school property is not a trivial matter. It is a serious matter. Do you understand that this is a serious matter?”
Jesse looks at Snediker directly now. Her pink face is a creepy old-young combination, like an aging baby doll. Her blinkless, light blue eyes rest on Jesse without quite seeming to take her in.
“But people tape posters to the walls all the time,” Jesse objects. “Every day people tape things up about, like, SADD meetings and bake sales and auditions for The Pajama Game or whatever.”
“Those are school-related posters.”
“This is school related!” Jesse cries, pointing to the StarMart poster. “This is totally about the school and what’s happening to it without our permission!” She feels the righteous rage that has been so hard to tap into these past few days come surging back up to fill her again, warm and familiar.
“It’s unofficial.”
“Okay, so, so, wait, so a poster raising awareness about the corruption of the school by an outside corporation is unofficial, but a poster announcing a bake sale for Future Business Leaders of America is official?”
“Correct.”
“So if I had an official school-sponsored group, I could put up any poster I wanted, talking about anything I wanted to talk about, but if I’m just one person without official status I can’t put up any posters talking about anything at all?”
“No one has carte blanche to put up whatever flyers they want to around the school. Even official posters must follow certain rules.”
“But I have a first-amendment right to free speech.” This is Jesse’s trump card and she delivers it grandly, but Snediker shakes her head impassively. Her dense bosom rides a wave of breath—up, then down—as she sighs.
“Your mistake, Ms. Halberstam,” Snediker says, “is in believing that a school is a democracy. A school is not a democracy. It is not a country, so it cannot be a free country. This school is a benevolent dictatorship, and I am its leader.”
“But, but what about Mr. Greil?” Jesse demands, sputtery. Doesn’t the principal run the school?
“Mr. Greil is in charge of your learning, but I am in charge of your behavior. And the behaviors associated with your postering campaigns are unacceptable.” Snediker ticks them off on her plump fingers. “Skipping class. Abusing hall passes. Damaging the paint job that Mr. Hubert and his crew spent so much time and effort refreshing over the summer. And quite frankly, disrupting the normal functioning of the school. Since this current campaign of yours began, I’ve gotten several quite threatening calls from parents and members of the community accusing Vander of selling its soul. One unhinged gentleman told me on the phone yesterday that I was personally ‘colluding with the military-industrial complex.’ Obviously, these accusations are groundless, but they’re unhelpful, particularly right now in the middle of budget review season. You don’t know what budget review season is, but it is in fact an important part of the school year that makes it possible for us to keep our doors open so that you and your fellow students can come here, study, learn, graduate, and go on to lead fulfilling lives. You should consider that there might be lots of other things you don’t know about that keep this school going, things you throw into jeopardy when you make unfounded claims like these.” Snediker pinches the yellow poster by its corner and holds it up again, a distasteful specimen.
“But they’re not unfounded.” Jesse has inherited Fran’s dominant cross-examination gene; even though she spent the weekend renouncing the fight against StarMart, she can’t let Snediker’s misuse of the word unfounded go by without arguing it. “All the stuff on that poster is true. We did bunches of research on StarMart. And if that one poster, like, throws the school into jeopardy, maybe that’s a risk we have to take. Maybe it’s worth throwing some things into jeopardy to keep our school from being connected to an evil corporation.” On the word worth, Jesse feels herself make Fran’s signature power gesture—a chopping motion against the desk—with her right hand.