In this part of southern Indiana, there really isn’t a lot of diversity, unfortunately.  I was in high school before I ever saw a person of another race.  When I was a senior,  there was one lone black girl in my entire class.  When it came Prom time, the principal made an exception, for her, about the rule that stated “only members of the Junior and Senior class may attend Prom.”  You see, the only black male in the entire school was a freshman, and the principal was afraid that if these two students didn’t go to Prom with each other, the girl might go with. . . . a white boy.  Isn’t that the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever heard?  It’s hard to comprehend, nowadays, that there was ever such a time in the history of decent sentient people.

 

Of course, my opinion of school administrators hasn’t changed, except for the worse, between then and now.  Honestly, where do those people come from?  “Those who can, do.  Those who can’t, teach.  Those who can’t teach, become principals.  Those who can’t control one building, become assistant superintendents.  Those who don’t even know where their computer’s ‘on’ button is, become superintendents.”  ***

 

Nope, not much diversity here.  Thirty miles in any direction, and things are more ‘mixed up,’ but here?  Even today, there isn’t much diversity.  More than before, but still not much.

 

Back in the public school, I once had a precious little Muslim student.  Her family was pretty well assimilated into the American way of life, which is good since they lived here and all (Shut up; if I moved there, I’d try to assimilate, too!) and she looked and dressed like any other middle school student.  She was extremely bright, and creative, and had a lovely, sunny disposition.  Her parents always reminded me of Mary and Joseph, and she had an older sister who was quite possibly the most exquisitely beautiful woman I’d ever seen in all my life.

 

The family had kept some of the traditional Muslim ways, but I didn’t realize it until the day I was grading the sixth grade’s “Things I Plan To Do Before My 18th Birthday” essays.  Hers was all about how she thought life might be with the very-much-older-man to whom she had been betrothed since she was a small child.  Holy scheisse.

 

What a waste. 

 

*** with the exception of The Super and Dr. Stock.  What a shame that all superintendents aren’t like these two fantastic people.  Imagine, a superintendent with a blog!!!  Their systems and communities must be very proud; certainly they are very lucky to have superintendents who care enough about their students to post information in a public place.  Heck, I’m amazed that a superintendent would even know how!

 

The superintendents in this community would much rather just cater to the rich and influential, go to ball games, and crush, kill, and destroy people, than do anything that might be construed as helpful, compassionate, intelligent, or even passably nice.

 

I’m really not all that fond of this area.