Not My Daughter

Chapter 14

'They wouldn't fire you,' Lily said.

Susan wasn't so sure. Phil had been less than supportive at the meeting, and her job was in his hands. But his job was in the hands of the school board. If he felt that sentiment ran strongly against her, that if a second vote were taken, the board would vote to let her go, he would fire her first. Their friendship didn't go that far.

Nor, apparently, did Pam's, which was the one that really hurt. What was it she'd said when asked if she was pleased with how Susan was handling the situation? For now, yes. Not exactly a ringing endorsement. And when the meeting adjourned, she busied herself talking with members. As signs went, it didn't bode well. Susan's fears only deepened during the short drive home.

'Maybe not now,' she told Lily, 'but next week? Next month? There seems to be an obsession about who is to blame.'

'Well, that's a no-brainer, since you weren't involved in the decision.'

'Not a no-brainer at all.' Susan reached for the teakettle. 'Here's a basic lesson in Mothering 101, sweetheart. The buck stops here.'

***

Monday morning, praying that her faculty would be less judgmental, Susan got to school in advance of the seven o'clock meeting. She set out coffee and doughnuts in the hope of mustering good will, but most of her teachers dashed into the small amphitheater with seconds to spare.

Was she nervous? Not of leading the meeting. She had gotten over that two years before, after realizing that her freckles mattered less than the professionalism she displayed. As long as she had an agenda, she was fine. And she certainly had an agenda today.

That said, she was nervous as hell. If she was fighting for her job, she needed the support of her faculty. All eyes were on her as she began.

'Thanks for coming so early. I met with the school board yesterday. We're going ahead with the plan to reach the entire student body. You've all read the e-mail I sent Friday. You should have also received the one I sent last night with the change in today's class schedule and bullet points for discussion.' Lest some hadn't printed it out, she took a stack and passed it around. 'The focus should be on the risk of teenage pregnancy and the danger of pacts. I've elaborated on both on page two.' She gave a small smile. 'I'm betting there are still questions. Please. Ask.'

There were a few easy ones. When are the girls due? Are all three keeping their babies? Will they be marrying the boys? Susan gave succinct answers to each.

In the brief awkwardness that followed, Susan waited, then smiled. 'Go ahead. Be blunt. I can take it.'

'Do we give the names of the girls?' someone asked.

'Only if you feel it's necessary for the discussion,' Susan replied. 'Most everyone knows that my daughter is one of the girls. I'm close to the other two families and would have you protect them, but our first priority is protecting the rest of our students. If they ask, you tell.'

'Will the girls be in class this week?'

'Yes.'

'Won't that be hard for them?'

'Yes.'

'What about the boys?'

Susan thought for a minute. 'I'd downplay mention of them. Some of our students will know who they are.'

'Do you?'

'I know one name. I'm sure you all know the same one.'

'How do you feel about this?'

Susan was slow to speak as she waded through different levels of emotion. 'I'm upset,' she finally said, but it didn't seem enough. 'As principal and a mother. These weren't accidental pregnancies. We don't want to glorify them.' And still that didn't seem enough. 'Some of you may be thinking that I'm taking a hard line because of my own past. I honestly don't think so. I'm not punishing these girls. I just want to discourage others from copying them.'

'What if students ask about you?'

'I'll be going from class to class while you discuss this. They can ask me themselves.'

Susan did little else over the next two days. She talked with students in the classroom, the lunchroom, the halls, even the gym, answering their questions as honestly as she could. There were questions about her own experience, often relating to whether schools talked about birth control 'back then,' but most of the questions focused on the girls.

Same with the faculty. Talking with them before and after classes, she sensed that they agreed with what she was doing. She never got the slightest whiff, not even from Raymond Dunbar, that she wasn't a fit principal. Nor did parents suggest it. Their notes were overwhelmingly supportive, far more positive this week than the weekend before. They liked what she was doing. As she had hoped, open discussions in school were leading to discussions at home.

She answered every e-mail she received, working late each night. And all the while, as she scrolled through her inbox, she wondered if Robbie Boone's parents knew. Sooner or later, they would. They might e-mail or, worse, ambush her as she climbed from her car at the end of the day.

By Wednesday, though, she was starting to feel she was over the hump. Classes were back to normal, and though she continued to make herself accessible, students were more interested in the holiday basketball tournament that Zaganack hosted each year than they were in Lily, Mary Kate, and Jess.

Then came Thursday and the Gazette. There was no article; as promised, Phil had made his call. The paper's editorial was another matter.

It's time to talk about family values. Zaganack has always taken the high moral road. Call us traditional, but we have the lowest divorce rate in the state, and violent crime here is rare. Our churches raise strong voices in this community, and we listen.

Now we learn about three girls who didn't. Three girls who are pregnant and happy about it. Three girls who have no plans to marry.

You might call this part of a national epidemic, an erosion of family values. But Zaganackians have a culture of responsibility that was supposed to protect us. Why did it fail?

These girls claim they acted alone. Did they? Do we blame the boys they were with, mere teenagers themselves? No. There are people who should have taught these girls right from wrong. Those people failed. They failed to teach. Failed to supervise. Failed to set an example.

Those people failed to understand that we can't redefine family values to suit our own needs.

What should the town do? We can't control what happens in individual families. But we can control what happens in our schools. We do have a say about who leads our children at this vulnerable time in their lives. Those children need the best possible role models.

One of the mothers of one of these girls holds a crucial position in our town. This is troublesome.

Zaganack needs to look long and hard at this problem.

'Phil,' Susan breathed, reaching him on the phone minutes after finishing her third reading of the piece, 'have you seen the Gazette?'

'Just did. This isn't good.'

'Didn't you ask him not to do this?'

'I asked him to hold off on covering the story, and he did. There was no front page headline. There wasn't even a story inside. Just this editorial.'

'Which is entirely one-sided. This isn't fair, Phil. I've made progress this week. If you want to talk about taking the 'high moral road,' I've done what you always like-turned this into a lesson for our students. Their parents