The variety did not stop there. Rich, poor. Christian, Jew. Trans and straight. Even Democrat and Republican could be seen, bumped up together in orderly rows. Some were whip smart while others took their time figuring things out. Which was just fine, thankyouverymuch.
On any given day, this motley crew was funny and sad and complicated--often, all at once. They worked hard and often failed, but, sometimes everything lined up just right, which felt pretty great. And--my God!--in those bright moments, they were something to see!
For the most part, they got along.
Sure, there were the crude cat calls, the microbursts of violence exploding in a flurry of fists. And, on just about any day, you'd find one or two of them huddled in a bathroom stall, tears rolling down a cheek. But always--always--there'd be someone else reaching out, building a bridge, waiting behind as the laggard caught up. Just to be sure.
In this once-upon-an-every-single-school-day place, people knew that they may not always agree with each other, but they also were certain that they would find a way to work together, when needed. Sure, it was messy and even a little scary to reach out to the "other," but that seldom stopped them from standing up when it was the right thing to do and extending a hand when one was needed.
And, because this is a fable, I dare say that even the adults found a way to get past their differences. Woven into the rich fabric of this house's lore are fanciful tales of MAGA fans, Bernie supporters, NRA members and Sierra Club volunteers drinking beer together! Perhaps it was the hops that bound them. More likely, though, it was their commitment to the young ones that helped them look beyond yard signs and tweets.
Whilst I know that it needs no saying, I shall say it anyway: This was no place for a Cyclopian politician, who drew lines not in the sand but, rather, with a knobby stick dragged furiously through wet cement. Although even he would occasionally be invited in, to blow hot air into the auditorium, his fetid breath clinging to the backs of bored teens, whose heads slumped into their laps, where tiny devices blinked and glowed furiously back at them. Even he might find himself changed staring into a crowd of all those others.
No, this was no place for partisan tomfoolery, though parts and wholes were discussed daily in science and math classes. Here, within the rough-hewn walls that rebuffed the relentless, endlessly changing winds, folks got down to the real business of life--learning how to live it, shoulder to shoulder, arms linked and eyes wide open.
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