BEGINNING OF TH END part 9, chapter 80

I charged over to the dean’s office in the boy’s dorm and pounded on the door with the back of my hand. When he opened the door, I pointed my finger in his face and backed him into his chair all the while telling him I wanted those hockey ride signup sheets and I wanted them now. He sat turned to his file and pulled them out. I didn’t ask questions I told him. “You had no right to take these sheets off the bulletin board. What you did in using these sheets to hand out deport slips was sneaky and inappropriate. You ended up giving deports to people who never even left the campus and you missed others who went. Why could you not even imagine these sheets to be the same as signing out in the book was beyond me? Because they signed up for a ride you knew they were leaving. They were not sneaking off. To also sign in the book was to sign out twice.

I don’t believe he ever spoke. He simply sat leaning back in his chair with a pasted on artificial but nervous smile while I told him what I thought. It would have been nice if I had had the common sense to be quiet about it, but the group at the door heard every word (not hard through those paper thin walls and doors with the huge gap under them). Just before I left I told him that I would see that he was fired if it was the last thing I did. I stormed out of his room, slammed the door and was greeted by a smiling and quietly cheering group of guys. It felt good at the moment. It didn’t take long to ask myself “what in the world had I done.” I wished I had simply crawled back in my little shell and hid there for the rest of the school year.

That evening I went over to tell Della and the Rose what I had done. They were all nervous. I didn’t blame them. I had put my foot in the bear trap and my tongue in a clamp. In today’s vernacular, “I was screwed.” The worse part of it was that I knew it, but didn’t know exactly what to do about it. Since it is hard to back out of a trap, I decided it would be easier to plunge deeper. I thought and planned, but that is exactly what I did. If you can’t swim and you want to drown, put your feet in cement.

The second semester ended with the dean trying to straighten out the deportments given to students who said they had not left campus. John has been expelled and the infamous four were expelled at the end of the term. Someone was cleaning house. The remaining inmates were at loose ends and confused. What had just happened? The administration never gave an explanation. Secrets! The rumors were abundant, the truth unknown. It seemed like it was all a secret. I guess it was. I was told specifically that it was none of my business.

Things did not really calm down, but it was somewhat quieter to the end of term. There was one exception, Students felt a responsibility to condemnation me for my “sin” of verbally attacking the dean. It took no time at all for everyone to know what I did. This translated into pressure on Della who had a nervous breakdown. She was worried for me and could not handle the stress. She left campus several weeks before and moved in with pastor Rose and family. He had been her pastor in Red Deer and was now the pastor at Woodward Avenue in Regina.

My plan of attack was hatched with a few council members. It took some time to get the courage to follow through so there was no action until third semester. At a future Student Council meeting I would ask for his resignation and if passed it would be in the council minutes and the administration would have to respond. The fear of doing this was that the dean sat as the faculty representative on the Student Council meeting. This action took guts. Talk about facing the enemy.

I guess I had figured out how politics worked since I had made the rounds talking to council members to make sure I would have enough votes to get my motion passed. I did not want to fail. I asked the question in council and it passed with him present and made the minutes. According to the rules the administration was required to respond before the next weekly council meeting. There was no respond.

Three weeks later I was called into the presidents office to be held accountable for my leadership, specifically the request that the dean be dismissed. I was told I was rebellious to authority and was not obeying scripture to submit and respect those over me. I suggested that respect is earned and titles were not the only basis. Respect is a two way street. I asked about the issues of grace, compassion and tolerance. I explained the tactics being used to issue deportments. I pointed out the regular interference with couples during their limited Tuck time. I reminded them of the spying going on from the music classroom and that his watch to the second was considered the correct time. They reminded me that none of his actions did away with the rules and he was acting in accordance with the law and their directives.

That was about the worst thing they could have said to me. It was just too much of a reminder of the arbitrary rules I grew up with in the church of my youth. I wanted some answers to “why.” I kept my mouth shut but was seething. The meeting ended when they requested that I step down as president of the student body. I refused saying I did nothing wrong, I followed the directives set out in Student Council guidelines, had only one deportment (which could be argued I did not deserve) and that I would only step down if the matter was put to a vote of the student body. They elected me and they alone had the authority to remove me. I left the office. It would never be put to the student body as this was a secret. Everything was a secret.

In the meantime, I was visiting Della at the Roses as often as possible. The Roses were hearing my side of the story and giving me some helpful advise but mostly listening and praying. I was often out past curfew. I wasn’t always talking with Della, but with the Roses, sometimes past curfew. Della did not want to hear all that was going on. It was too stressful.

Ron was the night watchman and understood what was happening. He would check my room and if I wasn’t there he waited up until I got back to let me in. He never put me on report. There were times I felt like he was my only friend. Something had begun and it could no longer be stopped. The snowball was rolling down hill and picking up the dirty snow.

Word got around that I had stood up to the dean and rather than coming around to encourage me I was ignored or criticized. The dissenting Student Council members and a few others felt compelled to throw Scripture at me and remind me of how wrong I was. I heard it verbally, but more often through notes in my box. Those supporting the administration were considered the spiritual ones. Then there were the rest of us.

At an early April Student Council meeting I once again asked for his resignation. It passed by a single vote majority and was included in the minutes. This time the Administrations response was immediate. I was called to the president’s office the next morning. There was no discussion this time they simply told me that I was immediately removed from office. I countered that they had no authority. They reminded me that they were in charge and not me and I was out. I left. The semester would end in three weeks. Student Council has little to do any longer. I do not know it they met without me. I never attended a meeting again.

I immediately stopped going to classes. I walked Fourth Ave. prayed and cried or cried and prayed. Had I messed up? Was I wrong? Did that man have the spiritual right to do what he did? Were these leaders actually following the directives of God? I did not return to class. I spend the entire last week of classes angry, hurt, praying, confused and frustrated. I spend much of the time crying. I was given a wide birth. No one seemed concerned that I was not attending class. Miss A was the only staff that ever contacted me. She sent an encouragement note reminding me that she was praying. It was tender without taking a specific position. I loved her for it. Only a very few students had any contact with me: Ron, Garth my roommate and a couple of others. I never saw any girls so don’t know what they thought. I do remember the love and support that came from the gang from Red Deer. Della’s friends stood by us both.

I simply did not know what to do. Was I really the cause of all of these problems? Had I really over stepped my bounds? Was it right that authority be so deceptive and interfering so that we were allowed to feel like prisoners in this Christian college? It felt like abuse of authority. Was it? I thought so.