My So-Called Life

Patty:
My husband and I read the stuff that the kids wrote --

Mr. Racine:
Hope it didn't give him a heart attack. He seemed a bit fragile.

Patty:
Actually, it isn't my husband who had the problem.

[Mr. Racine smiles]

Patty:
I just think...there's this one piece in particular that I just don't feel comfortable printing.

Mr. Racine:
Oh! You're afraid that Angela wrote it.

Patty:
This has nothing to do with whether Angela wrote it.

Mr. Racine:
So, this is just censorship for censorship's sake?

Patty:
What?

Mr. Racine:
Hand them over. I'll type them myself, and I'll have them Xeroxed.

Patty:
These are children! We are adults! This is not censorship! This is guiding adolescents who need...guidance!

Mr. Racine:
That is a very reasonable opinion, and very clearly stated. Unfortunately, it's total manure.

Patty:
Excuse me?

Mr. Racine:
It's horse manure. I sense you're angry. Are you angry?

Patty:
Yes!

Mr. Racine:
Yes! I sensed that! [laughs]

Patty:
Why is it manure?

Mr. Racine:
Good question. It is manure because this journal should be about giving these students a voice, not about having their thoughts edited. If these kids aren't afraid to put their hearts on the page, why should we be afraid of them?

Patty:
You should really teach full-time.

Mr. Racine:
We have a difference of opinion. Fine. But do you think you should be in the position of deciding because you run a printing press and I don't?

Patty:
Do you expect me to answer that question?

Mr. Racine:
Yes.

Patty:
[pause] No, I don't.

[He hands the papers back to her and starts to leave]

Patty:
So. Did Angela write it?

[He smirks and walks out]