Standing at the window of her office Dean Cadence looked out at the sky. It was still rather early, but the sun had just crept up high enough over the horizon to dye the whole sky in a beautiful blue. Through the glass she could feel the warmth radiating on her face, creating a pleasant prickle on her skin. With a smile she lowered her gaze down on the school yard of Crystal Prep Academy, dozens of students marching around on it. Where usually the purple of the school uniform dominated her sight a myriad of colours was unfolding in front of her eyes. Not only colours though, the shapes of the clothes also came in great variation: Instead of having the exact same length the girls were walking around in skirts of varying cuts, from ground-reaching and foot-hiding to barely over the butt (of course those girls wore shorts or legging underneath). There were ruffled skirts, baggy ones, tight ones, frilly ones, pleated ones, those with pattern and those without, even a handful of umbrella-shaped skirts. And of course, there were both girls and boys walking around in tight jeans, baggy trousers, leggings, sweatpants and shorts, some ripped, some with patches, some brand-new and from top designers. The variety of tops was even more astonishing: T-shirts, tank-tops, vests, blouses, sweatshirts, hoodies, jackets, blazers – and of course they came with long or short sleeves, in baggy or tight, and in many, many colours. There were some with small texts on the front- or backside, and as it was usual a lot sported individual symbols representing each student.
The number of students was small compared to the rush hour of the early morning, but Cadence could still spot a remarkable number of different styles just by gazing over the school yard. She saw a boy wearing an azure hoodie bearing the sign of a famous hip hop band, with baggy shorts and expansive sneakers as well as a reversed baseball cap on his head. A girl was wearing a frilly summer dress, with puffed sleeves and a broad skirt in an icy blue shade. Generally blue seemed to the favored colours of the students, although pretty much any other colour was represented as well. Among the boys and girls there were a handful walking around in Crystal Prep uniforms. But even those often had made small adjustments to the mandatory appearance, from different shoes and socks to skirts or jackets – there was even a girl who walked around in the pants of the male uniform. The way everybody looked at each other was still very Crystal Prep, full of smugness and an up-high, self-centered attitude. However, as she watched them Cadence believed to see the slight hints of a smile in some of their faces.
Feeling pretty happy she looked at the rainbow of students, hands behind her back. In one, the dean of Crystal Prep Academy was holding two sheets of paper, the one on the front looking like a letter. After staring out of the window for a bit longer she lifted it up to her face, reading the text on it for the fourth time already.
Dear Dean Cadence,
So yeah, I think you can pretty much guess what I’m gonna tell you about. Won’t bore you with the details, so here’s the short version: Our soccer team trained a bit too long, I got late into bed, took a little nap in history and got woken up by the mother of all paper balls while the teacher told us about the revolution of our county. I was already about to doze off again, but just before I was back in my dreams I realized, and I can’t believe I’m actually writing this, but once in a RARE while history can be kind of cool (at least when you manage to filter out the boring stuff). Between dates and names I have already forgotten we were told about battles, about revolutions, and about heroes fighting injustice – before I knew it I got sucked up into the history of our ancestors.
But you know what was the coolest? Them fighting for freedom, putting everything on the line for their beliefs and the ones they love, and being actually able to change something. I wanted to do something like that too. Be a rebel! Start a revolution! And most importantly, change something – here at Crystal Prep! The sheer thought got me super-excited. I wanted to become a heroine the others looked up to, an inspiration for every student! I wanted them to follow me, wanted them to see me as a rebel commander that would lead them into liberty, and be remembered by the students following us as the one who made Crystal Prep a freer place.
I wish I could say it worked well and that I’m a heroine, but the truth is, I’m not. When you want to change something, it’s stupid to think you can do it on your own with a snap of your fingers. I learned that the hard way. The VERY hard way. After Cinch gave me the boot, I was really down – not so much because of the costume and everybody laughing at me, but because my revolution had ended in such a lame way. I didn’t even go down in a big fight! It felt like I was brushed off with the tip of a finger, and there was nothing I could do against it! For the whole day and up to the next morning, I felt incredibly weak and helpless.
But while I had given up on my revolution, my friends hadn’t. They helped me get on my feet when I was on the ground, even though I didn’t ask me to – they just saw I needed them and acted. It’s kind of funny: I wanted to be the one to inspire the students, but in the end I was the one who had to be inspired. It was really what I needed though, and I felt more ready to take on Cinch than ever before. Knowing to have your friends at your back can give you incredible power and self-confidence – more than you could probably ever muster on your own.
I also learnt that sometimes, the people you would have least expected to rely on will be there for you when it really matters. Even if someone seems mean and snobbish, they can carry a great heart full of gratitude and compassion in them (though I already knew that from Sunny). You just have to take the first step and be nice to them so they can show you they aren’t just jerks. To start the fire of the revolution you don’t really need a bold idea, and a cocky student getting on the principal’s nerves. Sometimes all it takes to make a big change is a small gesture of friendship, just a little bit of kindness and understanding.
So we got our casual Friday – not really the big change I was hoping for, but there are situations where you have to be modest and take what you can get (by the way thanks for teaching me that lesson). And judging from the face Cinch made when we left her office I’m pretty sure she is swallowing MUCH harder on that compromise than I am. Actually, I don’t think I would have been upset even if we had failed. Cause even then, I still would have gotten my friends behind me, and no one can take that away from me. That’s a liberty far better than wearing whatever clothes you want.
Regards,
Indigo
PS: Please don’t tell the others I wrote such a sappy report.
The dean giggled at the last remark. She then took out the sheet behind Indigo’s report. It was a page from the school codex, specifically the dress code. It began by citing how uniforms represented discipline as well as academic excellence, and how important they were for the identity of a school. A detailed description of the uniform for boys and girls followed, strictly defining the boundaries and liberties the students could take in individualizing their clothes. On the bottom of the page, there was a small excerpt stating the exceptions for the dress code – for instance, on especially cold winter days the girls were allowed to wear thick pants instead of skirts. Dean Cadence was looking at the last of those remarks, a very short paragraph she had marked with a yellow highlighter.
For a more efficient transition into the weekend and to improve the morale of the student body, the dressing codex doesn’t apply on Fridays.
Contently Cadence attached the page to the report with a paper clip. She walked over to her file cabinet, and put it to the others into the corresponding folder. Once it was stored safely inside she headed over to her desk, folding her arms on it after she sat down on her chair.
“Alright, look” she said to the student sitting across her desk, smiling a little awkwardly at him. “I know it’s casual Friday and the students are free to wear clothes of their own choice, but even though you don’t need to wear school uniforms we still have to keep certain, um… standards.”
Arms crossed the boy on the chair looked at his dean. He wore a pair of blue jeans-overalls with not T-shirt underneath, the straps being the only thing to cover his scrawny torso. His feet were also bare, and on his messy hair he had put a big straw-hat while holding a piece of straw between his lips. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”