Something inside me snapped at her words. It was as if a dam had burst, releasing all my pent-up frustration and anger. I straightened up in my chair, locked eyes with Nancy, and finally found my voice.
Those people.
“Marc Mendez is a loving father and a hardworking man,” I said, my tone calm but firm. “He deserves your respect, not your ignorant disapproval.” Nancy’s face reddened, her eyes narrowing, but I pushed on. “Your prejudice has no place here and I won’t stand by a minute longer and let you hurt someone who is just trying to live his life.”
The silence that followed was deafening. Nancy’s complexion had gone an alarming shade of purple, her fists clenched at her sides.
For a moment, I thought she might actually explode.
But then, with a huff of indignation, she spun on her heel and stormed out of the lounge, the door slamming shut behind her with a resounding bang.
Relief surged through me, leaving my knees weak. Scattered applause from a couple of teachers and a hug from Stella broke through the remaining tension and, though I didn’t finish my salad, I felt better than I had all week.
Lunch ended quickly after that. I gathered my things and headed back to my classroom, the weight of the confrontation still bothering me. While my students were with the art teacher, I tidied up the classroom and prepared myself for a task that broke my heart—cleaning out Mia’s cubby.
I gathered the possessions she’d left from last week—a small pink jacket, her colorful crayon drawings, and a stuffed bunny—and placed them into a box.
Angie stood nearby. “Hard to believe she was only with us for such a short time,” she said softly. “She made quite an impression on all of us. We’ll miss her.”
I nodded in agreement. “Yeah, she did. Mia’s a special kid.”
As I closed the box, my phone buzzed with a new email notification. Glancing down at the screen, I saw it was from Ginger, our principal. She wanted to see me in her office before I left for the day.
A knot twisted in my stomach; this had to be about the fight with Nancy in the lounge.
“Everything okay?” Angie asked, noticing the change in my expression.
“Uh, yeah. Just need to stop by Ginger’s office after school,” I replied, forcing a smile. “Nothing to worry about.”
At least, that’s what I hoped.
I had some work to finish after all the kids were picked up, but I knew Ginger would still be on campus—our principal was usually one of the last members of the staff to leave for the day. With my laptop bag slung over my shoulder, I carried the box of Mia’s belongings, tucked under my arm, into the front office.
Drawing in a deep breath, I rapped my knuckles softly against Ginger’s open door, and entered when she called out.
“Ken, have a seat,” Ginger said, gesturing to a chair in front of her desk. As I sat down, clutching Mia’s box, she studied me for a moment before speaking. “Two things. First, Marc Mendez came by this morning. He’s withdrawn Mia from school.”
I nodded, touching the box next to me. “I saw the email from the registrar.” It hadn’t been a surprise, yet I was shocked that he’d made that decision so quickly without talking to me first.
Not that I deserved any sort of consideration like that.
Ginger nodded. “Second, I received a complaint from Nancy today regarding your interaction in the faculty lounge.”
Dread sunk into my core. I locked eyes with Ginger, summoning all my nerves to keep my gaze steady. “Ginger, I—”
She held up a hand, silencing me. “I heard about what happened and who started it all.” I braced myself, ready to defend my actions, but her next words caught me off guard. “Ken, I want you to know that intolerance and bigotry will not be tolerated at Blanco Springs Elementary. Not from anyone, staff included—and I’ve reminded Nancy of that.” Ginger’s expression softened a fraction. “You did the right thing, speaking up.”
Relief crashed over me, so intense it left me lightheaded. “Thank you,” I murmured. “We couldn’t stay silent, not when she was spouting such hateful nonsense about one of ourparents.” A heaviness lifted off my shoulders, and I stood, prepared to leave.
But Ginger held up her hand. “Ken, I reckon I owe you an apology, too. It was wrong to ask you to remove your pride flag. I’m learning and growing as well, and I appreciate you helping me see the importance of visibility and acceptance, even in something as small as a desk flag.
What? I blinked. That wasn’t what I was expecting to hear. “Thank you,” I repeated.
“No, thank you. You were right about the flag. It needs to be there to remind everyone that this school is a safe place. Thanks for reminding me of that, too.”
As I left her office, with the box of Mia’s things still held close to my chest, the stress of this past week began to dissipate with each step I took. The weight that had been pressing down on my shoulders lifted, a glimmer of hope returning. No, the work here wasn’t done—far from it—and it wouldn’t be until people like me spoke up for those who couldn’t speak for themselves.
But I wasn’t alone. I had allies who loved and respected me and would go to battle for ‘those people.’ The thought of Stella, Natalie, and even Ginger standing beside me filled me with a warmth I hadn’t known in days. Sometimes it took a village not just to raise a child, but to protect and nurture the community where they can be safe. Walking down the hallway, I allowed myself a small smile, feeling stronger and more determined than ever to make our school a safe and welcoming place for everyone.
