Kenneth Blake
Ms. Bowles
Intro to College Writing 1310
All Is Fair In Love And Glue At a very young age my father used to always tell me “Ken, justice isn’t just.” In my younger years I just assumed that this was just another drunken quote coming from an intoxicated man so I paid the phrase no attention whatsoever. Maybe if I had believed him back in my younger years then I wouldn’t have been so hurt when I found out how true his words really are.
As the weather slowly but surely changes from the comfortable temperatures of spring to the blistering hot and terribly humid weather that Memphis, Tennessee is known for, every kid in the school system starts to smile through the sweat because of one thing: miserable weather means that the school year is almost over and that the much awaited summer vacation is about to begin. This being noted even the daily sweat stains and frizzy hair can’t stop everyone on campus from enjoying this wondrous time of year. One of the best things about school this time of year is that the teachers are ready for their two months off just as much as the students. Years ago at my former high school the science department started a tradition to do class projects near the end of the school year that would count for a test grade. Although I’m not sure if the projects were for educational purposes or just because the teachers simply got lazy, I’m for sure am not going to be the one to complain about easy grades and fun classes. As I walk across the prison yard disguised as a high school into my eleventh grade chemistry class one Monday morning I am welcomed by a colored half-sheet of paper on my desk detailing the project I have been assigned. The paper was the vaguest description of an assignment I had ever received in my life; the paper literally had two sentences on it “Make a hot-air balloon. This is due Friday”. Since obviously the entire class was in confusion and had questions about this random project we had to wait 15 minutes for Mrs. Harrison to finally stroll nonchalantly into the classroom sporting her signature all white lab coat with her name embroidered in red-orange flames on the right chest area, quite possibly the only article of clothing in her entire closet seeing as in 170 days of school I’ve never seen her wearing anything else rain, sleet, snow, or hail she was committed to that same dingy lab coat. As if by cue, the moment Mrs. Harrison entered the classroom the class bombarded her with questions to which she responded to by simply raising her hand and calmly saying “Shut up. It’s 7 in the morning I’ll explain it when I explain it.” She was easily the coolest, most laid back teacher I had that year and quickly became my favorite teacher because her laid-back personality mirrors mine so closely. We would have educated discussions after class about the lesson she taught that day and about current events in the world leading me to believe that I was one of her favorite students (one of the many times in my life I have been wrong). A few days later Mrs. Harrison, again late to her own class, finally tells us the requirements of the mysterious project. We were tasked to build a hot-air balloon just as the paper stated but with one catch, each student can use only three materials. After careful consideration I decided to use the gift wrap style tissue paper, tape, and pipe cleaner because of all of the items lightweight properties. My idea was incredibly simple, arrange the tissue paper into the form of a balloon, adhere it together with tape, and use a single pipe cleaner to make a hole at the bottom of the contraption to allow the hot air to enter the balloon. After 3 test flights my balloon, appropriately named Cloud 9 because of its all white color, the resemblance it has to clouds, and to make a funny drug reference that most teachers wouldn’t recognize, was obviously the best in the class. On the day before her final magnificent flight when I opened the door to the science building the almost intoxicating smell of glue overwhelmed me so suddenly that I lost my balance and stumbled backwards. The repulsive stench of Elmers School Glue filled the hallways and the clear filmy residue of dry glue was everywhere, in my mind what I was looking at was simply by far the funniest senior prank I’ve ever witnessed, but this sticky smelly hallway turned out to mean much more to me. I enter the classroom and while all of the other students rushed to finish their inferior balloons, Cloud 9 and I went to the back of the classroom and took a much needed nap before my dream was so rudely interrupted by someone tapping of my desk. I awake to the face of the 11th grade assistant principal Mr. Chauncey Bland, a short African-American man in his early 40’s who resembles a grumpy old troll in both appearance and personality who also just so happens to be my mom’s ex-boyfriend from a couple years ago. Using his usual evil form of dry humor he says to me “Nice to have you back Mr. Blake. How was your dream? Never mind I don’t care. Let’s take a walk, Mr. Blake. ” sadly I am way too familiar with this walk seeing as I seem to always get into trouble for every minor thing Mr. Bland can think of.
I entered his freezing cold office that reeked of a mixture between air fresheners, cologne, and the crushed dreams of children and sat in my usual seat. Yes, I have been in his office so much I know which chair is the most comfortable and claimed it as my own. I stared at him with the same blank “I hate you” look that I give my alarm clock every morning when I am awaken from a great sleep. After what seemed to be hours but in actuality was only a couple seconds I ask him simply and as respectfully as possible “Why am I here Chauncey?” expecting for him to give me the usual orange pass to go to in-school suspension for sleeping in class. He responds by the asking the rhetorical question of if I was familiar with the glue disaster found upstairs in the science building, to which I replied “Nope, I didn’t even notice that I had to jump over globs of glue to get to class.” Thankfully my remark made him abandon his humorous attitude and get down to telling me his purpose of interrupting my wonderful journey through dreamland.
Then he looked me dead in the eyes and asked me quite possibly the dumbest question that I had ever been asked in my life, “Why did you throw glue in the hallway?” The randomness and seriousness of this stupid question surprised me to the point where I couldn’t think of anything to say so I just repeated the nonsense I just heard “Why did you throw glue in the hallway?” At this point he gets angered stands up and repeats the question clenching his teeth together to try to say it in a tone that was meant to be more intimidating, but it actually made him like a comical version of the big bad wolf. I look at him with my usual calm look (which he hates) and say “I didn’t do anything. I didn’t even use glue.” Then the lies start rolling in. The first lie he tells me is that the camera in the hallway saw a figure throwing bottles of glue around the hallway right after school and several people identified that person to be me. The only problem with that argument, besides the fact that I was innocent, is that there is no camera upstairs in the science building, it broke years ago and was never replaced. He could tell that I was not rattled by his initial attempt he continued to make up evidence stating that some of my classmates told on me, which was obviously just a ploy to get me to admit to committing the crime or to pass the blame on to another. After these two failed attempts he sent me back to class obviously annoyed that he had to strategize better ways to convict an innocent man of a crime. The very next day I came to school dressed as comfortable as possible. I wore my wresting team jogging pants, one of my hundreds of t-shirts giving to me for being on the football team, and a pair of Nike flip flops. Did I look good? Heavens no, but if I was going to be interrogated all day and possibly thrown into ISS at least I was going to be comfortable. I put all my school supplies in my locker and walk into 1st period chemistry where I sat in the seat closest to the door. There was no point in having supplies since I planned on talking to Chauncey all day. Thankfully Chauncey didn’t make me wait too long before he made the journey to came pick me up. To my surprise he brought the school police officer with him, who appeared to be just as annoyed by this situation as I was, and had me escorted out of the classroom looking as if I had just committed 1st degree murder. If his goal was to disrupt my classmates and most of the student body then he was successful; however, if his goal was to rattle me then he failed miserably. When we finally make it to the office, sneaky little Mr. Bland threw another curveball at me. He said that he found an eyewitness to the crime and before I could even respond to my surprise my friend Mrs. Harrison walks into the room. I couldn’t believe it, my favorite teacher just betrayed me. At this point I knew I lost, the truth doesn’t matter anymore at this point. Now it’s a student’s word against the word of a principal and a teacher, my chances are slim. I mentally prepare to accept my undeserved ISS punishment when Mr. Bland grins and slid me a red note. Red notes mean out of school suspension, I immediately slid it back to him as if he made a mistake to which he simply said “Your mom is already on her way. See ya in August Mr. Blake. Have a happy early vacation.” With his evil cartoonish grin. I lost. Truth lost. Justice lost. As I sat dumbfounded and confused Mr. Bland sat opposite of me with a look of accomplishment. My mom, being a teacher, didn’t believe me either, which I expected. To make matters worse, I had to endure the most awkward ride home ever. My grandmother, who was in town, was in the front seat talking bad about me the entire time. That was also expected because, we don’t have the best relationship. The overall punishment I got wasn’t very severe. All that my mom did was take my car for a couple days and make me go to work with her, which was by far worse than having my car taken. Elementary school children are the most annoying creatures on Earth. The feeling that the system failed me overwhelmed me, I just couldn’t grasp the fact that the system allowed me to be falsely accused and convicted of a crime that I had no part in committing. That hurt me way worse than the actual punishment did. I could not fathom that the way things were set up I had absolutely no chance to defend myself. I spent that entire night in my room reminiscing about the series of events that occurred that day. Finally after hours upon hours of drowning myself in thought I let my mind drift to a happy, peaceful place. I fell asleep that night imaging Cloud 9’s voyage in the sky, soaring through the heavens just as it was meant to.