Class(75)

“Ladies, can we get back to business?” asked Susan, turning to the wider group. “Anyone else like to comment?” She scanned the room.

“Well, just to play devil’s advocate, I just kind of wonder if we’re not overcoached,” said Leigh. “I mean, we’re already paying for a math coach, a recess coach, a debating coach, and a chess coach. And I guess I’m also wondering if there’s even room for a meditation coach to do his or her thing. I mean, I’m assuming he or she would have to find a quiet space to do it in, and I don’t have to tell you guys that there is literally not one empty broom closet left in the school building. My daughter just told me that kids are now getting occupational therapy in one of the old maintenance-supply rooms.”

“I know—it’s ridiculous,” cut in Amy, the volunteer coordinator. “But if someone actually went door-to-door and outed all the people who were lying about where they lived, we’d have, like, a normal-size school again. Seriously, have you noticed how many kids head to the train station straight from pickup? It’s so infuriating.” Amy grimaced while Karen swallowed hard.

“People, can we stay on topic?” asked Susan. The room fell quiet. “Anyone else like to comment on Kim’s proposal?” But no one did. “Well, a meditation coach is definitely something to consider,” she went on. “But since we’re talking about a staff hire that possibly requires board of education approval, I suspect it would have to be something we looked into for next year, not this. And we really need to spend the money this spring. Any other proposals for immediate spending?”

Another hand shot up—this one belonging to Deirdre, the member-at-large, who, Karen now noticed, was quite large herself. “Well, I don’t know how many people realize this, but the fifth grade has at least one trans student in it. It’s actually my friend Kristen’s son, Liam, who used to be her daughter Lia. Anyway, Liam has really not had an easy time of it this year. And honestly, some of the problems have been on the teacher side. Liam’s teachers have been refusing to call him by the name he wants to be called and also continue to refer to him as a she. On that note, I really think the school could benefit from some guidance on the issue. I actually know someone from the Glockenberg Institute for Child and Adolescent Studies who specializes in this stuff. In addition to sponsoring a trans-sensitivity-training workshop for the teachers, I thought we could do an evening discussion for parents and maybe an assembly for all the upper-school kids.”

“Hm,” said Susan. “Do you know how much it would cost?”

“I’m guessing ten to fifteen grand for all of it?”

“I like the idea. I just wonder if it’s the kind of thing that would make more sense on the middle-or high-school level. I’m not up on the current science, but to my mind, ten and even eleven years old seems a little young for kids to be identifying themselves that way. Though I’m sure it does happen.”

“Well, there might be only one kid in the school right now who’s come out as a trans person, but I’m sure there are others dealing with the same feelings. And even if there aren’t, it’s an issue that affects the whole school. Apparently, there was an incident last week in which some fourth-graders objected to Liam using the boys’ bathroom, and the teacher—I’m not going to name names—basically sided with the objectors, which I thought was totally outrageous. But whatever.”

“Okay, but doesn’t Lia-I-mean-Liam still have a vagina?” cut in Leigh. “I mean—sorry if this isn’t PC—but my son was one of the kids who didn’t feel comfortable, and honestly, I can’t really blame him.”

There was mumbling and grumbling.

“Ladies, why don’t we wait to see a proposal before we make any decisions,” said Susan. “Deirdre, can you get us something to look at by the end of the week?”

“I’ll do my best,” she answered.

“Any other proposals?” asked Susan.

“More technology in the classroom?” asked Meredith.

“Well, we already have iMacs, iPads, patch panels, and ceiling-mounted video projectors in every classroom,” said Janine, the STEM chair. “And the library—as you can see looking around you—is pretty teched up too.”

Once again, Denise’s hand popped up. Karen could have sworn she saw certain members of the Embellished Tunic Brigade roll their eyes in anticipation. “I have a proposal,” began the vice president. “I’d really love to see the school commit to using recycled toilet paper.” The interim treasurer made a face expressing revulsion, prompting a new round of half-stifled giggles. It was becoming increasingly clear to Karen that Denise was the April Fishbach of Mather—that is, the mother whom all the other ones loved to complain about—and Liz was her chief antagonist. “I’m sorry,” Denise went on, “but it literally breaks my heart thinking about forests getting destroyed so our kids can wipe.”

“So you want the kids to use secondhand toilet paper?” asked Liz, sounding mock incredulous.

“It’s not secondhand toilet paper,” scoffed Denise. “It’s recycled paper that’s turned into toilet paper.”

“Well, that’s a relief.”

There were still more giggles. Denise grimaced again. “Anyway, it seems to me that if this school is committed to preserving the environment, we should begin using sustainable paper products. If that makes me an ogre or a laughingstock, so be it.”