It was a weird few days at school. You see, I live in Chesterton, Wyoming, a town a little behind on the science and everything. A lot of the adults here are kinda… I don’t know how else to put it, but… Let’s say close-minded.
On Wednesday, September 18th, the Laramie County School District held an emergency meeting. A few months prior, Oxford published a book by a well-known scientific author–Charlie Darwin–putting forward a discovery the whole world, and especially our very religious town, did not take kindly to. Charlie’s work on the Galapagos Islands and observations of the change in physical characteristics of birds across the various islands led him to believe and publish that animals adapted to their environment over time. Evolution. Oh, also, Darwin had created the first time machine and went back in time and took a really long time-lapse video showing evolution actively happening over a couple of hundred years. Yeah, the dude invented time travel, and we’re worried about whether evolution is true? Honestly, why aren’t we talking about that instead?
One of the paper’s main conclusions that caused the most uproar was the claim that we, humans, plants, and animals, come from a singular common ancestor, and that we are all distantly related; a conclusion in complete contradiction to what we believed before, and in contest with our town’s widely established religion which stated we were all placed on Earth purposefully by god. To say we came from the same thing that rats, pigs, and fungi come from was incredibly insulting.
Counter-papers from enraged parents and members of the opposition came out as the evolutionary curriculum was implemented in schools in the following months, as our leaders believed immediate implementation of the curriculum was urgently necessary. So, in response, many parents in our town held an emergency school board meeting. The drive to school that evening was awkward.
“Look, hon, I just don’t think it’s right they’re putting it into classrooms this fast, alright?” My mom tells me while looking at me through the rearview mirror. “I mean, hell- I mean heck, how can they even be sure that any of this stuff is right? Certainly not godly, I’ll say that.”
“I don’t know, Mom,” My snot-nosed brother jumps in. “These science guys- They usually know what they’re talking about. I don’t think they’d approve it for schools if they weren’t sure.”
“Okay then, Harry, then how do you explain it not matching with our church’s stories, then, hm?”
“Maybe… I don’t know… The book is wrong?”
My mom whips her head around and shoots a soul-piercing stare through my brother’s eyes. Harry leans over to me and whispers, “Penny… I think mom’s gone crazy,” but in all honesty, I’m not even sure what to believe anymore.
“I call this meeting of the Laramie County School District 1 on this Wednesday, September 18th.” Board chair, Mrs. Gwendolyn O’Gaise, intimidated everyone. She’s this short, 5-foot-2, grey-haired old woman, and the way she commanded the room despite her stature–everyone was scared of her because of it–but she inspired me.
“Today’s meeting was called for an emergency, as we have some concerns about the new curriculum we elected to implement at the last meeting,” she says as the crowd of parents begins to erupt with shouts.
“Order! Order! I have not finished! Mr. Solz, if you keep interrupting, I will have you removed! Everyone, quiet down!” Mrs. O’Gaise gives her final warning as the sounds of her gavel echo through the boardroom hall.
“Now, on the issue of evolution being taught in classrooms- Yes, Mr. Solz, you will be able to speak in a few minutes!” PTA representative Jeff Solz didn’t even say anything. Mrs. O’Gaise just saw him start to open his mouth.
She continues, “On the issue of evolution being taught in classrooms, we hear your concerns. I want to first make it clear that we are not at all trying to stray away from our beliefs. However, as a board, as you know, we have previously decided that in light of all the concrete evidence that we must question everything. Now, we are going to open the floor to public comment. Any and all persons who’d like to make a public comment, please line up to pull your order number.”
Slowly but surely, the school of disgruntled parents (and teachers!) made their way to the order pull. I sat and watched as my mom and Harry lined up to speak as well.
“Alright, number one, you may come to the microphone. You have 2 minutes.”
Derrick Le, one of my classmates’ dads, made his way to the podium. Uncle Le was a pretty level-headed guy–more “with the times” than most adults. But like most adults in our town, fear of the unknown outweighed his reason.
Mr. Le began. He was nervous, trembling from top to bottom, beads of sweat splashing below him. “Look y’all, I love our city as much as you do, and I trust in our lord and the scripture as much as you all as well, but… but…”
He freezes in place, his tremors becoming exponentially more sporadic. Hands rushing to his pockets, he pulls out a piece of paper, the sweat pouring out so fast it almost disintegrates the paper as he holds it.
“We need to accept… I mean, look at the…”
And then he rushes off stage. How strange.
It continued. Mr. Garrison, our biological studies teacher, said what a typical biology teacher would say at the time: “Yeah, it’s all B.S. It’s Adam and Eve, not squirrel and chinchilla, or whatever they’re trying to claim it is. I mean, it’s simple, really. We are here trying to educate. Stuff like this just confuses the kids–makes it harder to teach ‘em what’s right.”
Our algebra teacher, Ms. Lacey, argued similarly to my brother: “Friends, they have no reason to lie about this! C’mon, what does teaching our kids this actually affect? It’s not like telling them they all came from the same place divides us more. Like, really, does that make any sense? And it’s not like them knowing we’re vaguely related to a monkey will make them-”
“Exactly!” Mr. Solz, the weird girl’s dad, interrupts. “That’s what they’re trying to cover!”
“Mr. Solz!”
“Our kids are gonna start getting into relationships with monkeys!”
“Mr… What?” O’Gaise was genuinely puzzled.
“That’s what this is about! Big science is trying to mess with us. They’re saying it’s natural to integrate primates with us because we’re related, when we’re not. That is what’s at stake here.”
Trying to reclaim her time, Ms. Lacey yells, “That is such a large logical jump to make!”
Once again, murmurs turn to outrage, parents and teachers from all sides of the room. Mrs. O’Gaise tries to call for “Decorum!”, but this time, everyone is too loud for her to be heard over the mic. Suddenly, one unidentified adult punches another in a heated discussion in the back of the room.
The room fully devolved into chaos, with stationery being used as weapons and debates turning into sparring matches. Staplers fly through the air. A printer sweeps Ms. Lacey off her feet. A chair flies through the air. Before colliding into Harry’s head, he futilely whimpers, “What the h-” For one moment, everyone stops and shoots wide-eyed stares at my brother on the floor. Then Mr. Solz shouts, hands cupping his mouth and leaning back, “Charge!” like some military tyrant.
More chairs, tables, and blunt objects fly across the room, the hall becoming unrecognizable. Mr. Solz and Mr. Garrison enter a brawl, trading hits. Across the room, Cary and Justice tug at each other’s hair as Nick fights his own rabid little brother off his leg.
“Nate! What are you doing!”
His little brother, Nate, is 4 years old and just wanted to feel included.
“AHHH!”
I try to run from all the commotion, but trip on my way to the door. I look back at what my foot ran into.
“No~”
Our only hope of finding peace, Mrs. O’Gaise, lying on the floor unconscious.
“This is it!” Ms. Lacey screams. “Today I die to a stapler because of what’s in our dang textbooks!”
Then, out of nowhere, in the most deus ex machina fashion one can imagine, the guest entrance right behind the speakers’ podium bursts open. A bunch of men with cameras walk in. Everyone pauses mid-brawl to stare at them. Soon enough, they stared past them to the heavily-protected man. Some stares transformed from awe to disdain. It was Charlie, bright-eyed, with his persuasive speech in hand.
“Yes, everybody! It’s me-” His bright smile instantly drops as he sees the room, and his crew shuffles out behind him. The room goes quiet, only harsh heaving and squeaking shoes making a modicum of sound. Mr. Solz and Mr. Garrison, the former holding onto the collar of the latter, slowly turn their heads to gauge what’s going on, along with everyone else.
His presentation in hand, Charlie asks, “What… What’s going on?”
From the ground, Gwendolyn musters, “There was a disagreement on curriculum.”
There is a long, uncomfortable silence. Charlie continues to look around at everyone staring at him, and he’s mortified.
Mr. Solz drops Mr. Garrison’s out-of-breath body to the ground and angrily marches towards Charlie, yelling, “It’s you! You’re the one trying to indoctrinate our kids!”
“Sir, I-!”
Mr. Solz speeds up and raises his fist. As he does, a tranquilizer dart zips its way into his neck. He falls to the ground with a grimace on his face.
Charlie, in disbelief, doesn’t even walk up to the podium. He just says, in a calm, restrained tone, “There is something wrong with you all. None of this, regardless of whether or not you would have chosen to teach it, would have even affected your practical lives in any way. You are not scientists. You are not biologists. This was an opportunity to learn, and it’s devolved into this? You ought to be ashamed of yourselves.”
Eyes welling up with tears, he leaves. Finally, people began to shuffle about, realizing what they’ve done. I nauseously stumble around trying to find my mom and brother, and my heart drops as I see a circle of people surrounding something. It’s my mother, crying as she holds her Harry in one hand, and the chair she threw just a few minutes ago in the other.
On Wednesday, September 18th, the Laramie County School District held an emergency meeting, and the town of Chesterton, Wyoming, realized that in all of our efforts to stop brainwashing and indoctrination, we failed to notice that we had all already become victims of it ourselves.
