Clinton Wallace was a man about forty seven, had two children, Gertrude, sixteen years of age and Lewis, fifteen years of age, and a wife named Emily. Married for nearly twenty years, went to church every Sunday and abided by the Bible’s laws. Gertrude and Emily knew their places in the kitchen so that’s where they spent most of their time. But, Clinton let the women sit down and talk amongst themselves every so often. In his mind, he was a very lenient man in the sense of how he kept his family. He was just a bit more lenient when it came to the women and their cooking. Yes, they kept the house tidy (it’s what he insisted they liked doing when they had free time) but they always make the food. Lewis, his son, was Clinton’s pride and joy. He always helped out at the church when he could, and shared the word of god at his school. Clinton didn’t have to work because he was the pastor at his local church, and as the pastor, he got a donation of about $800.00 a week. The lord truly blesses those who love him, Clinton thought to himself, while reading the good book.
On one fateful Tuesday afternoon, Clinton was in his chair, writing the next Sunday’s sermon when Lewis walked in, with a chip on his shoulder.
“What’s wrong, son?”
“I was trying to spread god’s word, dad. A Jew named Michal didn’t pray to god before the Pledge of Allegiance, so I called him a member of Isis, just like you told me about all of the Middle-Easterners, and the Principal gave me a detention!” Lewis says sadly.
“THAT’S OUTRAGEOUS!” Clinton exclaims, as Emily walks in, with her hair undone, letting it fall to her shoulders.
“What’s wrong?” She asks.
“Emily,” Clinton starts to say, standing still and without any trace of tone in his voice “Why are you out of the kitchen and why is your hair undone?”
“Clinton…I just…I heard you yell, and I was washing…my...” Emily starts before being slapped across her face by Clinton’s hand.
“I love you, Emily. So get your behind back in the kitchen before I gotta strike you again,” Clinton says, with love in his voice.
After rubbing her face, she simply got up, and began to fiddle with her hair while on her way to the kitchen. Despite living through this abuse several times before, she still couldn't help but feel ashamed of herself for staying with this man and not the one she actually loved.
Looking back at Lewis, he straightens his tie and puts a hand on his son’s shoulder.
“Lewis, I’m going to go speak with your principal tomorrow when I drop you off for school, I’ll get this all sorted out. You will not get a detention.”
The next day, Lewis gets out of the car in the school parking lot, followed shortly thereafter by Clinton. Gertrude does not go to school, as she is a woman and she does not need any more education than a first grader would know.
Once inside the Kingsville Middle School, Clinton was disgusted by all the females in pants and short-sleeve shirts. Sure, he knew that women did that but they allowed this in SCHOOLS IN AMERICA, A CHRISTIAN COUNTRY? “Damn you, Obama.” Clinton says to himself while taking his eyes off of the school girls wearing boy clothes and places his eyes on his son who was leading him to the principal’s office.
The plaque above the office’s door had the name of the so called principal was “Carly Lows.” No wonder Lewis was unfairly given a detention. A woman was the principal? Looks like there was more work than originally thought to be done.
“Lewis, you didn't tell me this…principal of yours was a woman. This changes everything, you know.” Clinton says, putting his hand on his son’s shoulder.
“How so, dad?” Lewis asks.
“We have power of her. We’re men, she’s a woman. How she became the principal, I don’t know. But we need to show her, in our, CHRISTIAN town, we like to stay traditional, so just follow my lead. You may need to use these techniques later in life,” Clinton says.
Upon opening the door, Clinton could hear the light tapping of a keyboard.
“Principal Lows?” Lewis says, standing in front of his father before the woman turns around to see them.
“Oh, sorry, I didn’t see you there,” she says, smiling warmly.
“Yeah, well, I’d imagine not,” the Pastor says.
Slowly, her smile faded and she became a little weary of this man already.
“Anyway, I’m Clinton Wallace, Lewis’ here’s father. And he told me that he was given a detention for simply spreading the word of god in a non-violent manner.”
“Oh, this is what this is about. Well, your son was being rather offensive to another student about his beliefs.” The Principal says, politely.
Breathing deeply, trying to remain as civil with this woman as possible he responds “What did he say, then?”
“After refusing to pray, which, by the way, no one is forced to prey before the pledge; we just leave that as an option. Lewis had also accused him of working with the terrorist group Isis.” The principal says.
“He may have said a few words wrong, but in the long run, I’d say he had the right idea.” Clinton says, smiling.
There was a long silence and Lewis looks down, ashamed.
“Okay, I’m going to ignore that last statement. Lewis, I know you’re not a bad kid, you just made a mistake. Lots of kids repeat things they hear their parents say,” Carly Lows says, reassuringly.
“Th-thank you, Ms. Lows,” Lewis says, looking up at her.
“And I’m sure we could be able to talk to Michal and his family and come to another resolution. A detention, while warranted may be avoidable. I’ll just have you and Michal come down after lunch and we’ll talk there.” The principal says, calmly.
“How ‘bout you just go back to the kitchen and let a man make the decisions ‘round here?” Clinton says, angrily.
Lewis looks at his father and his principal who he had just found to be very reasonable and looked down, embarrassed that he ever listened to the things his father said.
“You heard me!”
“I’ll have to ask you to leave campus, sir,” Lows says, flustered “I’ll have Mr. Gill escort you out.”
That won’t be needed.” Clinton says, storming out, leaving his son and the woman he despised most in the world at the moment next to Michelle Obama.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Lows…” Lewis says.
“It’s not your fault, son. Some people just end up with the wrong family members. My offer still stands with Michal and yourself. I’ll call you both down after lunch.”
“Thanks,” Lewis said, before walking out of the room, angry with him and his father, his mother was right about him.
But were they going to actually go through with the plan? He was his dad, and he loved him, tried to listen and agree with what he said, but…things weren’t that easy now that he was older.