In the spirit of universal harmony, I find my life proceeding according to the zeitgeist of my homeland. Unfortunately, the current sweeping it up at this point is political. Ugh.
Thus it is that I am coming to realize my outlying, and consequentially inferior, status in local politics, perhaps similarly to Tzipi Livni and Shaul Mofaz (The first formerly and the latter currently of the Kadima Party, for which I voted in 2009). Not that a strong Opposition is not important, in its own way, but my situation would be more adequately compared to that of the party my fiance voted for, Eretz Hadasha, which did not succeed in gaining a single mandate in the new Knesset. This party, whose leaders - former attorneys and journalists - were hoping for the tiniest of footholds to allow them to expose the corruption running rampant in both the government and its watchdogs (the press), found themselves out in the cold on election day, despite drumming up all the social media hype they could muster. What chance could I possibly have, then, without even so much as a Facebook profile.
So the metaphor goes like this:
School = State
Knesset = Faculty
Parties without a single mandate (including Aleh Yarok for legalization of marijuana... hehe) = Me
Democracy(?) = Democracy (?)
On Sunday, at a faculty meeting, I declared myself to be non-democratic.
What did I mean?
About a week before, I had witnessed four students fighting - hitting and pushing each other. (The irony that it happened on School Election Day, the apex of our project on democracy, in which students formed parties, presented their platforms, and elected the party of their choice, has only just hit me.)
Immediately I enacted our (only) school rule, which states quite clearly that any student exhibiting violence must be sent home for the rest of the day and then, pending further investigation, be suspended.
I told the principal, who ignored me. Later she said she had not heard me, though I spoke directly to her and she looked directly at me.
Anyway, they did not go home.
Later, at the faculty meeting that followed the school elections, I brought up this failure of the Rule of Law. A discussion immediately followed on just who, exactly, was meant to enforce our one law. Of course, politicians are not police officers (our metaphor in mind), but what are politicians to do with no police officers in sight?
It was decided that our take on the court - a committee I will refer to as the Discipline Committee - would take over the proceedings and decide whether to suspend students for violent acts from here on in. One such committee was summoned to debate the case of the four students.
And here comes another missing piece: An attorney general.
Who, then, would be responsible for "suing" the students in the school's place?
The burden feel to me. At this point we must alter our metaphor slightly, seeing as I both carried out the "arrest" of the children, was sole witness to their crime, and also then had to sue them:
Police force / witness for the prosecution / AG = Me
The court debate was set for that afternoon, during the 45 minute break, my only lunch break and the time in which the Discipline Committee meets.
The day began as usual, but as I was greeting my morning class two students broke in, yelling that I was "suing" them for no reason and calling me a liar.
Imagine the entire police force as one 30-yr old, medium-height, curly-blond woman with no special skills aside from some dabbling in creative writing and a knack for English grammar. Now imagine this "force" going up against the Mob.
The four boys proceeded to hound me throughout the day, locating me wherever I was and demanding I stop "lying".
By noon I was a quivering, crying mess with my back to the window in the teachers' lounge.
Oh, and they were not suspended.
I do not blame the students. Why should I? All they are doing is behaving according to their nature, their nurture, and the zeitgeist of the place, which tells them that they are equal to me, to the other teachers, and to the principal.
The school, therefore, has led me to doubt democracy, to doubt that they should be allowed to call themselves my equals. But perhaps this belief has always been ingrained in me, and has only required a stimulant to emerge. After all, I grew up with a father whose idea of patrimony was to call up my brothers and I from his office phone - on the top floor of the house - demand coffee, and hand up.
In any case, I realize democracy is often flawed, as is the idea of equality. My newfound disbelief in the entire notion of democracy in school stems not from the misbehavior of the students but from that of their principal. In other words, the flaws I discovered lie in what any hierarchical system would place above me, and not below.
Unfortunately hierarchical terms do not apply here, and perhaps even more unfortunate is my desire for them to apply. For I despise the discovery that I am not democratic more than anyone else. I believe in equality, so why not in school? Because the students behave like apes set loose from a zoo? Tame them with democracy! Alas, when you treat an ape like a person equal to yourself you are the one who ends up in a cage, and you are the one whose personal security is at risk.
But, as I have mentioned, my opinion is that of the tiniest of minorities, and I hold no mandate to speak of. My principal, on the other hand, swears by majority rules, yet often has the last word in any discussion. What's more, she allows the mobsters of our society to gain traction by refusing to halt their progress. An erratic, violent, and extremist faction setting the tone for an entire community of law-abiding citizens (remind anyone of our 18th Knesset?)
My final amendment to the analogy will therefore be:
Principal = Bibi Netanyahu
No, scratch that:
Principal = Sarah Netanyahu
(We all know she's the one really running things. And don't get me started on Feminism.)
I think I'll move to India. At least with castes, everyone knows where they stand.
