Branded - Eric Walters [1]
“Hey, no problem. I’m confused because you’re talking about there being no cause worth killing for, but you were in the Marines…Didn’t they sort of train you to fight back and try to kill people?”
Mr. Roberts chuckled. “They trained us to defend our country.”
“And if that meant killing somebody?” Oswald asked.
“I would have done my duty.”
I could imagine Mr. Roberts killing somebody. He probably wouldn’t even need a weapon. He was an ex-Marine, but he still looked like a Marine. He was tall and stocky and had a crew cut. I wouldn’t want to cross him—well, not again.
We’d had a clash in the beginning, but it’s strange—I think he admired me for taking a stand against one of his policies.
“I greatly admire Gandhi,” Mr. Roberts continued, “but I think there are some things for which we must be prepared to fight against, die for, and yes, kill.”
“What sort of things?” Oswald asked.
“We need to fight oppression, terrorism and threats to our way of life, to protect democracy—”
“Didn’t Gandhi create the largest democracy in the world by not fighting?” I asked, cutting him off.
“Yes, he did. You seem to know a great deal about Gandhi,” Mr. Roberts said.
“I’ve been keeping up with the reading,” I said.
Mr. Roberts’s social justice class had caused me to read a whole lot of things that hadn’t been assigned.
“Some people believe we should fight for what is right—even if that means breaking the law,” Mr. Roberts said.
“It’s the moral duty of somebody to disobey a law he doesn’t agree with,” I answered.
“Aaaah, now you’re speaking the words of Dr. Martin Luther King,” Mr. Roberts said. “It could be argued that Dr. King adopted Gandhi’s principles and practices.”
That opened up a whole discussion. Other students added opinions and quotes and arguments. This class often went way off the assigned topics, but that made it even better.
Besides, Mr. Roberts was the principal. He wasn’t going to get in trouble for not following the course outline. In fact, he created this course and insisted on teaching it. He said he thought every principal should teach at least one course to “stay in touch” with his students.
Mr. Roberts was in constant touch with the students. He was always in the hallways, in the cafeteria, in the yard, at all the games and even at the school dances. He seemed to be everywhere. He didn’t miss much. He seemed to know everything and everybody in the school.
Of course whether he knew you or not didn’t matter if you were breaking any of the rules. And there were lots of rules to break. Mr. Roberts had added quite a few since he had become our principal. We weren’t allowed hats, iPods or cell phones. There was to be no misbehavior, with no exceptions. He didn’t like it when people broke rules or…I had an idea.
I raised my hand.
“Ian?”
“I was just wondering, if Gandhi didn’t agree with your no-hat position, and he wore a hat to school would—”
“Gandhi did not wear a hat!” Julia said, cutting me off.
“I’m not saying he did, but suppose he wore a hat for, say, religious reasons, like Sikhs wear turbans or some Jewish people wear a yarmulke. What then?”
“That wouldn’t be against the rules,” Mr. Roberts said, “because it’s part of their religion.”
“Then I should be able to wear my Yankee’s cap,” Oswald said. “They are a religion to me.”
“The Yankees are not a religion,” Mr. Roberts said firmly. He paused, and a slight smile came to his face. “Now if you’d said the Boston Red Sox, you could have made an argument.”
“Boston? You gotta be joking!” Oswald exclaimed. “I wouldn’t wear a Red Sox cap on a—”
“Fine, fine, fine,” I said, cutting him off. “Okay, so what if Gandhi wore a Red Sox cap?” I asked.
“Then his hat would be taken away,” Mr. Roberts said.
“And if he refused to give up his hat?” I asked.
“Then he would be suspended,” Mr. Roberts said.
“But Gandhi would only wear a hat because he thought it was right,” I said.
“Regardless of his belief, I would have to follow my rules and suspend him.”
“I can’t believe that you’d suspend Gandhi,” Oswald gasped.
“If he didn’t follow the rules,