When the Principal Lost Her MindChapter 1

The new semester had barely begun when the principal announced that all student guardians had to attend a school-wide classroom clean-up. I saw my chance and approached the principal privately to explain my situation. “Principal, my parents have very specialized jobs. They truly can’t make it.” To my surprise, the principal slammed his lesson plan down on his desk and roared at me, “Every other parent can make it, but yours are ‘special’? You wrote ‘confidential’ for their profession on the enrollment form, and now you’re making excuses for them not showing up? You don’t take me seriously at all!” He then laid down a harsh ultimatum: “If your parents don’t come, then we won’t keep you in this class!”

I was utterly stunned. The regulations of their classified agency mean they can’t just go out in public! But when my parents actually showed up at the school, the principal’s attitude instantly changed.

* * *

Principal Vanderberg walked into the classroom, a grim look on his face, and slammed his lesson plan onto the podium. “For the new semester, I asked guardians to come to school for a clean-up. Only one student’s guardians didn’t show. What, is it embarrassing to sweep a floor at school? Or do you think your child’s grades are so good they don’t need to do ‘menial’ tasks?” His voice rose. “Let me tell you, in my class, the way guardians treat the school is how I treat their child.”

Guardians coming to school for clean-up was supposed to be voluntary, but Principal Vanderberg was image-conscious. He felt the more guardians attended, the better it reflected on him as a principal, so he demanded all guardians must be present. “Lily Adams.” He called my name directly. I stood up. “What exactly do your parents do for a living? Street sweepers? Janitors? They must have some off-hours, right?” He asked, arms crossed. Someone snickered. “They…” I paused. “Their agency is… special. They can’t leave.” “What agency? Tell me about it.” “I can’t.” A brief silence fell over the classroom. Principal Vanderberg was furious. “Can’t say? Or are you embarrassed to say it?” “Starting the school year off with that passive-aggressive attitude, you think I can’t handle you?” I quickly explained, “Principal, I’m not. They truly can’t say…”

Principal Vanderberg’s face was livid. He slammed his hand on the table. “I’ve been teaching for years, I’ve seen every kind of guardian! I’m calling your guardians right now! I’ll ask them myself! If they don’t tell me why they can’t come, you’ll stand for every class until graduation!” With that, the principal pulled out his phone and immediately dialed the number I had provided, deliberately putting it on speaker. From the phone’s speaker came a mechanical female voice: “Hello, the number you have dialed is not in service. Please check the number and dial again.”

The classroom erupted in laughter. Principal Vanderberg hung up, his chest heaving. He felt mocked and humiliated by me. “Lily Adams.” He gritted his teeth. “You’re playing games with me?” “No, Principal, they truly are…” “Silence.” He pointed a finger at me. “Do you think I’m an idiot? You’ve been lying from start to finish. There’s no such thing as a ‘classified agency.’ You just didn’t want your parents to come. You’re deliberately defying me!” He grew angrier as he spoke, his face red. “Since your parents won’t come to school, then you don’t need to attend class. Get out now!” I explained again, “Principal, I already told you, my parents’ work is highly sensitive. Not just anyone can reach them.” Principal Vanderberg was trembling with rage. “Get out!” I sighed, resigned, and walked out into the corridor.

Principal Vanderberg was notoriously petty. Once, a student merely misremembered the timetable and took out a textbook for another subject. Principal Vanderberg publicly berated him for an entire class. If I couldn't resolve this, who knew how much trouble he’d cause me later. I pulled out my encrypted phone and sent a message to the group chat with my parents: [My principal, Mr. Vanderberg, has some misunderstandings about me because you couldn't come for the clean-up. Can you explain to him?] A moment later, my mother replied, indicating understanding: [Understood. Situation reported. Someone will handle it.]