Chapter 5: Forget The Whales - Save Our Teachers!!!

Spring, 1989
Dear Diary,

What to do? What to do? Just act cool and go about daily life and it'll pass right? It will FOR SURE pass. It's just a momentary crush because Mike's been so nice and then he went to senior ball with that hussy. If I just relax, keep things chill and back off, it will totally go away. And besides, I have other things to spaz out about than some guy on the brain. Things are crazy busy with student council, the Antlerette, figuring out what to do about me and Kelly....Oops, gotta go, Cosby Show is starting. I'll write more later....

Spring 1989 - Elk Grove High School

A brand new school, Florin High was going to open next year. It was a new high school down the road that would help my school, Elk Grove as well as Valley High School's overcrowding problem. The first Freshman class would start next year, then the following year would have Freshman and Sophomores, then it would have Freshman through Juniors etc. My student council was being asked to help the new school come up with an activities program plan and a student government structure. Added to that, the district was looking for teachers that were willing to transfer to the new school. Plenty of our teachers had already volunteered. However, we found out in April that our new principal Mr. Skeen was going to transfer two teachers involuntarily, meaning they didn't want to go but he wanted them out. These two teachers were outspoken members of the faculty and Ed decided he could easily and quietly get rid of his little problem by sending them to the new school. After all, the new school needed teachers and he was just doing his part to help the district out.

Well, normally, students don't get involved in these kind of administrative and staffing matters. However the two teachers being transferred were much beloved. One of them was a counselor and was directly responsible for helping seniors get scholarship money. The junior class members were very upset about his transfer because they would be needing his help in a few months to apply and seek out any available scholarship money available in our community. At the new school, he wouldn't even HAVE a senior class to help out as the new school would only have freshman. So it didn't make sense to the students of Elk Grove High why a senior class college counselor would be going to a brand new school where he couldn't even do his job for 3 more years. Upon investigating, it was discovered that both of the teachers were being transferred against their will by the evil fascist dictator masquerading as our Principal, Mr. Skeen.

The students got pretty upset about this. Ed had already made a number of bonehead and unpopular administrative decisions during his first year as principal. This decision to transfer these two teachers became the fuse that would ignite a major powder keg that would blow all over our small town and beyond. Pretty soon, you started seeing home made T-Shirts that said "Forget the Whales - Save Our Teachers". And "Don't Transfer Our Teachers". And "Fight Mr. Skeen - No Involuntary Transfers". The popularity of these T-Shirts grew and pretty soon, you saw similar sentiments being displayed on backpacks, binders, posters and picket signs being carried all over our school. The students attempted to appeal to Mr. Skeen directly and were told he would not discuss this matter with students as it was a faculty and administrative issue that did not concern them. Want to bet Ed?

So, being young and having LOTS of teachers who grew up in the 60's, a protest rally was planned. To say the other teachers were ignorant of our plans is ridiculous. Many unofficially helped in the planning and they certainly egged us on. It was decided that on a certain day, everyone would wear their T-shirts, bring their signs and when the morning bell rang signaling for all to go to 1st period class, that we would sit down in the middle of the quad (the open center section of our school where everyone hung out) and refuse to go to class.

The designated morning arrived sunny and cool. I figured it would be a pretty big day and I dressed for it. I had on black pants, nylons, heels, a hot pink angora sweater with my famous scarf tied just right around my neck making a perfect triangle down my back. It would prove to be a very poor wardrobe choice. The bell rang signaling the beginning of the day and about 80 to 100 students sat themselves down on the steps of the quad and refused to go to class. Now the students who sat were not the "typical" troublemakers and rabble-rousers of the school. They were student council members, class officers, California Scholarship Federation members, cheerleaders, athletes and club members. They were the "good" kids of the school and they were ticked off. I sat down right along with them and was proud to do so. I figured it was Ed's right to transfer these teachers but it stuck in my craw that he wouldn't even meet with us about it. And if he wouldn't talk to us, I figured it was a good idea for us to let him know that his decision was not going to fly. "I won't be ignored, Dan". (name that movie)

So there we were, doing little cheers about saving our teachers and fighting the power when all hell broke lose. The students who had decided to go to class found out about our little protest during the first 10 minutes of 1st period and they came pouring like locusts out of the classrooms. Pretty soon, 100 kids became 500 kids and by the beginning of 2nd period, NOBODY in the 2,000+ student body was going to class, but instead was in the quad. And guess what? I was Student Body President, the protesters elected representative, which made me #1 on the FBI, I mean, Administration's Most Wanted list. Pretty soon, a voice came over the school loudspeaker..."Amy Oliver, please report to the Principal's office immediately." At this moment, I was still having a very good time. My beloved students that elected me started to actually chant "Amy Amy Amy"' as I stood up. I got up and began walking through the throngs of sitting students toward the administration offices amidst high fives and cheers. I like to think I walked with purpose that day, shoulders back and head high, ready to do battle with an oppressive power. I took my Student Council Vice President with me for back up and off we marched to fight the good fight on behalf of our electorate.

Ed was in his office. This time, I wasn't kept waiting for him to get off the phone and I had no time to blow bubbles. He called me right in. His Vice Principals were with him. His face was beet red and little veins were poking out. "Miss Oliver, I suggest you march out there and tell your students to get back to class, NOW". Normally, I intimidate pretty easily. But today, I had the support of the masses and I wasn't backing down. "Mr. Skeen, with all due respect, no. I won't tell them to go to class. They have an issue with your administration and they are peacefully protesting a decision that you made and they have a right to be heard". I felt just like Norma Rae. It was great. He then said, "how do you think they'll feel when I call the police?" Ummmm...now I started to get a little scared. "Well, Mr. Skeen, I'm sure no one would like to see the police involved. I will take your request back to the students but I honestly dont' think they are going to budge." He bugged out his eyes at me and shaking said "well, young lady, you just make sure they do or else."

So out I went back to the mass of students in the quad. By this time someone had gotten hold of a bull horn. Ray Lindsay (a scholar athlete who was known for intensity on and off the football field and who would later be my best man at my wedding) had the bull horn. He came up to me and said "Amy, what did they say." I said "they want us to go back to class." He got on the horn and announced, "The Principal thinks you should go to class." which got a chorus of boos and no ways and Skeen sucks shouted back in my direction. Then I said to my Vice President Bryan really quietly, "do you think he'll really call the police?" Well, Ray with the bullhorn, overheard this and announced to all the protesters that "They're calling in the NATIONAL GUARD!!!"

Now, as you can imagine, pandemonium ensued. Students started shouting, chanting, yelling. Pretty soon, news cameras had arrived. When Ed Skeen came out of his offices flanked by the rest of his administration and tried to get the students back to class on his own he was pounded with raw eggs. A bunch of sh*t kicker cowboys tied a noose to a tree and hung a fake Ed from it. The rockers had "We're Not Gonna Take It" by Quiet Riot blasting from their boom boxes. The cheerleaders were leading protest cheers. The stoners were off in the corner smoking pot. The nerds were off in another corner doing their homework or something. The yearbook staff was on the roof with cameras trying to capture it all. Somebody even got a beach ball bouncing through the crowd. Most people didn't even know why we were there. But they were 14 to 17 years old and out of class on a sunny spring day. They didn't need to know. Whatever the cause was, they were 100% behind it.

And there I was, being called back and forth to the Principal's office to be yelled at by everyone from Mr. Skeen to Mr. Trigg the School District Superintendent. To them, I represented their lack of control. And let me tell ya...these guys were sort of Nazi-ish. Control was something that they just didn't lose. And somebody was going to pay for it. And that somebody was me.

In between going back and forth, the number of TV cameras grew. All the major news stations were there by now. I kept seeing a white flash running from camera to camera giving quotes to the television stations but I was busy and paid it no attention. By this point, things were getting out of hand. I think a garbage can was set on fire and there were waaayyyyy too many people closed off in that quad to get out safely if there was an emergency. Like a fire. I was starting to get a little scared for all of our safety. Someone tipped off the TV reporters that I was Student Body President and representing the students in this thing, so at one point I found myself giving an interview with no less than 4 cameras turned on me and the same number of microphones in my face. As I was speaking to the media and what I imagined was the television viewing population of Northern California, calmly explaining what the students concerns were, how we wanted this matter resolved peacefully and how the students wanted to sit down with Mr. Skeen and he refused, that the white flash I had seen running from camera to camera jumped in front of me and began to shout. It announced he was "Mike Meeker and I just got an appointment to the United States Air Force Academy and Mr. Beckner (one of the teachers) helped me get this appointment and it was totally unfair what they were doing to him." Now, the TV reporter completely forgot about me and moved on to this totally intense young man who was giving PASSIONATE and TOTALLY IRATE and SENSATIONAL and IRRESPONSIBLE soundbites to them. I was completely forgotten. And as Mike yelled injustice at the top of his lungs on local television, things continued to erupt. I remember wanting to squash him where he stood. Because...
A. he totally stole my thunder.
B. he totally poached MY interview.
C. he was inciting a riot.
D. he wasn't even PART of the original group that sat down. He jumped on our bandwagon then took credit for our success.

I HATE when people do that.

At about this point, Mr. Skeen got on the loud speaker again and announced that school was dismissed for the day and that the students should go to their homes immediately. Now, getting out of school for the day became the cause of much celebration and joy. Binders were emptied and papers flew in the air. Trash was littered all over the quad. Suddenly, students that were protesting on behalf of their beloved teachers were given a "get out of school free" pass and the quad cleared in all of 5 minutes. So much for commitment to the cause.

My fellow student council members and I were in meetings with school district leadership until 7:30 that night. By day's end I had blisters, my angora sweater had all sorts of stains and tears. My scarf was crooked! And my pants were filthy. I even had a hole in my barely black nylons. I hated this day by the end of it. They could transfer those two teachers to Siberia for all I cared. I even had to have my mom tape the news on our VCR because I wasn't home in time to watch it.

By the time I got home and watched the tape of the evening news, I was tired, emotionally drained and thinking about running away to finish my senior year at some all girls boarding school in Switzerland. The only bright spot I thought is that I got to be on TV. I was really looking forward to seeing myself and my cute sweater/scarf combo on TV. I mean, what 17 year old wouldn't think it's pretty cool that they lead the evening news on all channels. But you know what really happened? I got on TV for 2 seconds saying I wanted a peaceful resolution and then they cut to a full 2 minutes of Mike Meeker ranting and raving. They even called him one of the protest organizers! He came out like the ring leader of the whole thing and he didn't even KNOW about it until he was sitting in first period. Seeing Mike Meeker on the news that night was my breaking point. I was FURIOUS. All of a sudden, Mike was responsible for why I was dirty, tired and had been yelled at for hours upon hours after students LIKE MIKE, had gone home early and probably had themselves a fun day floating in the pool and listening to the radio. At that moment, Mike Meeker was the most unattractive, stupid, trouble causing, stupid, ridiculous, out of control, stupid boy I knew. And he could think again if he thought I wasn't going to let him know exactly what I thought of him first thing tomorrow when I got to English class. That idiot. He made it so much worse than it had to be. He endangered the students safety and made my job a hell of a lot harder than it needed to be. AND he took my air time. What an arrogant jerk. Who did he think he was? Wait until I got to English tomorrow. Just wait. Boy oh boy was I going to let him HAVE IT!!!