Nothing is worse than a history teacher

who forgets the necessity of rebellion.

I sat in a forest of bodies,

all miming the motions of justice.

 

Being called into a cold hallway:

a tall boy (basketball, perhaps?) crying,

a girl (dual-enrollment, I think?) staring,

and me shaking with rage.

 

You, sir, cannot give me

detention for not pledging

my allegiance to

a meaningless piece of fabric.

 

Once the recited words

die off,

the girl behind me

pokes my back,

 

“Are you some

sort of communist?”

I pause, thinking.

“Da. Privyet.”

 

It seems in the

21st century, McCarthyism

is alive and well

in Arizona high schools.