Arbiter of the Classroom

The pile of papers on John Albright’s desk was still there, teasing him, reminding him of what lay ahead. It was the worst kind of workload – huge, but not quite big enough for him to doze off behind it without being seen.

In the background he could hear the sounds of the children trickling off the buses and into the upper quad, where they would wait to be let in to the school as soon as the teachers got sick of watching them having fun outside. John sighed deeply, trying to tune the noise out as he wanted to get as much paperwork done as possible before he would inevitably be called in to arbitrate a dispute later in the day.

He also tried not to catch a glance of his calendar that lay flat on his desk buried underneath the mess. In particular, the unfortunate date that was circled on it in red – the 18^th. He didn’t want to think about what would come then.

“Let’s try this again, Donny. Tell me what your side of the story is.”

Donny Milligan pounded on the table in a fury. “I hate you guys! You all are a bunch of no good pansy-ass buttwipes!”

           “Donny, nobody heard you say it!” Gina Lopez yelled. You have to say it when someone is around!”

           “That’s a lie! I yelled it when we like two feet away from the car!”

           “No you didn’t!” Hunter Hecht responded.

           “Yes I did!”

           “That doesn’t matter! We have to be able to hear you say it!”

           “You heard me!”

           “No, we didn’t! Nobody heard you!”

           “You all are buttwipes!” Donny pounded on the table again. “I wanna kick all your asses and then screw all your mothers till they’re my baby mamas and then kick the babies’ asses!”

           John took his turn to pound on the table. “Donny, settle down or I will hold you in contempt of classroom! Now, without raising your voice or insulting anyone, where exactly were you when you called ‘shotgun’?”

           “I was on the sidewalk where Hunter’s mom’s car was!”

           “Where on the sidewalk?”

           “Like, ten feet away from the car!”

           “Could you see the car when you yelled ‘shotgun’?”

           “Yes!”

           “That’s a lie!” Gina yelled. “He was nowhere near the car!”

           “Gina, were you supposed to be a passenger in Hunter’s mom’s car?”

           “Yes, but what does that have to do with anything?”

           “You’re an interested party in this case then. That makes your testimony less reliable.”

           “I am not interested in this! This is so incredibly stupid and boring!” Gina protested.

“Are there any neutral witnesses to Donny calling shotgun?”

           “Nathan!” Donny yelled. “He was also there and he heard me yell it!”

           “Nathan was also going to ride in the car!” Gina reported. “Hunter’s mom was going to drive us to the mall to get Orange Julius!”

           “Was there anyone else?” John asked.

           The children were silent.

           “Well unfortunately Donny, calling shotgun only entitles you to the front seat when it’s in the presence of the car and at least one other person. If no one heard you say it, then your rights weren’t violated yesterday when Hunter jumped into the front seat.”

           “That’s not fair! That bastard cut into the front seat after he heard me yell it, then he blew a raspberry right at me!”

           “I’m a bastard?!” Hunter was livid. “Excuse me, I’m not the one who always eats the good crayons before anyone else gets a chance to taste them!”

           John pounded on the table again, desperate to restore order. “Donny, I agree that Hunter blowing a raspberry was a gratuitous gesture, but it didn’t give you the right to try to knock down that beehive that was situated above his head earlier today.”

           “I even asked him for the front seat! I said ‘Pretty Please’!”

           “Donny, ‘Pretty Please’ doesn’t obligate anyone to give you what you want. That was established last fall in the landmark case of Katie v. Johnnie.”

“That case was stupid!”

“Well, it happens to be binding precedent. That means it’s the law we’re going by today. Now, the three of you need to return to class.” John pounded on the table again to signal the end of the arbitration.

The three eight-year-olds were visibly angry, but none of them made a sound. They marched out of the classroom and out into the hall while the arbitrator returned to his office, wondering for the three hundredth and eighty-fifth time how in the hell he ended up in that job.

It wasn’t glamorous work, to say the least. And it certainly wasn’t well-compensated. While John’s law school classmates were out there negotiating big-time mergers, filing exciting new patents or prosecuting notorious mobsters, he was in charge of mediating and arbitrating the disputes that arose among children under the rules they invented for the playground.

“I’m sorry, but Charlie called the swings at the beginning of recess. Charlie has the first right to use the swings.”

“Bridget I’m sorry, but an agreement sealed with a pinky swear is a binding contract. You are obligated to share your Pink Power Unicorn toys with Rebecca.”

“When you were picking teams for kickball at recess yesterday, Neddy was standing among the kids to be chosen. Neddy was entitled to be chosen for a team; I don’t care how much he sucks or if he picks his nose before touching the ball.”

But there was more to it than talking to children and being a mediator and judge. Much research and continuing education went hand in hand with the job. Because there was never an official assembly of schoolchildren to lay out the laws of the schoolyard by statute, every single rule came from a judge or arbitrator. The common law of the schoolyard was constantly evolving to adjust to the needs and issues of a changing playground.

When John returned to his office after arbitrating the latest He Called Shotgun imbroglio, he knew he would be stepping back into his ongoing desk project that had occupied him for days – a scholarly analysis and review of the strange and smelly case of Whoever Smelt It vs. Whoever Dealt It.

The ramifications of this landmark decision, which concerned the rule for determining the source of flatulence amongst a group of students, were potentially school-changing. The petitioner in the case, a fourth-grade student who had first pointed out the existence of flatulence-related odor during a math quiz, was denying allegations made by another student that their notice of the odor in the first instance meant they were the culprit in the creation of the flatulence. That other student, the respondent in the case, was defending himself against a charge of defamation for making the allegation.

John had grown tired of studying the case extensively, but he knew it was his job, and it was an important one given the importance of assigning blame for flatulence among the children. Polls continually showed the issue to be of the utmost magnitude to the children, even more so than getting more recess and controlling the spread of cooties.

He wouldn’t have much more time to review the matter that day, however. That morning’s recess was just commencing, and the kids were even rowdier than usual. It would bring with it a whole onslaught of legal controversies that would keep John busy for an eon. But at least it would be a normal day’s workload, and not what would be coming for him on the 18^th.

“Well, when we went out to recess today, I ran toward the swing set. I called the swings. There was already a girl on one of them, but the other one was free. Before I could reach it, Bobby ran up and grabbed it. He snaked it right from me!”

“Did you audibly yell that the swings were yours prior to Bobby grabbing the chains?”

“Yes! I yelled, ‘I call the swings!’ The stupid bastard stole them anyway!”

“Mr. Albright, that is a lie! Chris never yelled a word!” Bobby pounded on the classroom table with a force that shook it and the others seated around it.

“Yes I did! I yelled ‘I called the swings!’”

“No, you didn’t! I didn’t hear a word from you!”

“I yelled it!”

Albright rubbed his forehead with frustration. “Alright, we can do this all afternoon. Now Chris, was there anybody else around when you ran toward the swings?”

“Yes. That girl who was on the swings was there, and so was Andrea DelVecchio. They can both testify to the fact that I called the swings!”

“Oh c’mon!” Bobby pounded on the table again. “None of them saw anything!”

“Bobby,” John sternly looked at him, “this is an arbitration. Stop pounding on the table.”

“Well it doesn’t matter because Andrea can’t testify anyway! She and Maureen personal jinxed each other, so she can’t speak until someone says her name!”

“Personal jinx does not render a person unable to testify. We can simply say her name.”

“Yeah well, I move that judgment should be given to me on the grounds that Chris is a backstabbing liar and a poopy face!”

Chris stood up and pointed at his adversary to the proceedings. “Mr. Albright, I plead that I am rubber and Bobby is glue. Whatever he says to me bounces off of me and sticks to him.”

“Objection!” Bobby responded, “everyone knows that the current court rules are, that the I’m Rubber and You’re Glue Defense is not valid after the first grade.”

“Objection sustained,” John heaved wearily. He was very thankful for that rule. “But what about this other girl who was on the swings at the time?”

“That’s me, Mr. Albright.” Jessica Rivers entered the room. “Sorry I’m late, I was busy getting the ball out of the patch again.”

“What patch?”

“That patch of bushes in the back of the playground where the janitor sometimes goes to hide stuff and go to the bathroom.”

“That’s still a thing?!” John froze for a moment as he watched Jessica take a seat at the table. “Why were you the one going back there?”

“I had to. We were playing kickball and Kyle Yardovich shot it way back there. I was the last one to yell ‘Not It.’”

“I see.”

“Actually, Mr. Albright, the reason I was the last one to yell it was that I was eating a bag of chips at the time. Doesn’t that mean it was invalid because I lacked capacity to call ‘Not It’?”

“You shouldn’t have been eating chips, stupid girl!” Bobby taunted her.

“Bobby, that’s enough. Jessica, lacking capacity to call Not It only exempts you from being It if it was not your fault you couldn’t talk. But this is a hearing on an unrelated matter and I shouldn’t even be giving you legal advice at this time.”

Jessica held her head down. “Okay.”

“Now, did you hear Chris call the swings before Bobby jumped onto them?”

“Actually I didn’t really hear him, because I was already on the swings and he was far away. But from what I saw he was clearly heading toward them and Bobby kinda swooped in and took them.”

“That is a lie!” Bobby screamed. “She’s only saying that because she likes Chris! I saw the two of them kissing by the jungle gym the other day!”

“So what?” Chris yelled back. “You’re just jealous because no girl will ever kiss you!”

“Like I would want any girl to kiss me! You’re a freak! And you and Jess are spreading cooties! You both should be in quarantine right now, which means I had the right to use the swings!”

“Quarantine? Grow the hell up! You’re the disgusting one who’s always farting in class on purpose!”

Oh please, do not force me to talk about that case right now, John thought as he shuddered. “Now Jessica, do you admit or deny kissing Chris by the jungle gym the other day?”

“I will admit it. Chris is such a dreamboat!” She held her hands to the side of her face and swayed slightly as she beamed a bright smile.

“Well then according to the case of Cheater Cheater Pumpkin-Eater vs. Jeanie Jeanie Eats Zucchini, that raises a valid issue as to your bias toward the plaintiff. We’re going to have to schedule another hearing to determine the reliability of the witnesses to this matter.” John stood up. “This meeting is adjourned. I will confer with the witnesses to the occurrence and we will reconvene on Tuesday during morning recess.” He banged on the table.

As the students departed to return to class, John took his file of papers and returned to his office. He hoped to be able to get most of his workload finished before the end of the day. It was essential that he get caught up before the weekend, for that Monday was the 18^th, the dreaded day of confusion and chaos that was circled in red on his calendar.

It was going to be Opposite Day. John shook as he returned to his desk, trying hard not to think about it. But he knew it was coming, and that didn’t make the work he was trying to do any more pleasant to get through.