Blended Family

Lin

"Mr. Miranda, we're gonna need you to come pick up your daughter right away," the principal of Hunter College High School told me over the phone. "She's blocking traffic."

I sighed loudly and pinched the bridge of my nose. This is not what I needed today.

"What's she protesting now?" I asked, knowing my daughter all too well.

"The fact she can't be on the football team," Dr. Fisher informed me. "She showed up to tryouts and was told she wasn't eligible."

My headstrong kid, Josephine, had mentioned something about this in passing this morning. She'd always been a bit of a tomboy, into sports her whole life. Now that she was a freshman in the high school, more sports were available. She's already been on the soccer and softball teams, but apparently that's not good enough.

Joey doesn't even like football. She only wants to do it because she's been told she can't. Typical Joey.

"I'll be right there," I told the principal, and pressed end on my phone. I stood up at the coffee shop I'd been working at and pulled on my coat. I rode the subway down to the high school and as I emerged from the station, I could hear Joey's voice loud and clear on a bullhorn.

"We will not put up with Hunter College High School's sexual discrimination against girls in sports!" she touted, surrounded by a small group of about ten other girls. She was standing on a box in the middle of the street, horns honking at her. I sighed and approached.

"Tell Dr. Fisher the school board needs to change its policy!" she continued, amongst cheers from her classmates. "Allow girls to play football!"

I stood on the sidewalk, hands in my jeans pockets, and just watched for a minute, my eyebrows crinkled in puzzlement. Where did she get this brazenness from? Well, her mother was a lawyer, which probably didn't help.

Some cabbie rolled down his window and poked his head out. "Hey! People got places to be!"

"You're a white male! You have nothing in your way!" she reminded him loudly. I rolled my eyes and cupped my hands over my mouth.

"Josephine Miranda! Get down before your principal calls the police!" I shouted at her. She looked at me, disappointed. Like I was being unreasonable. I raised my eyebrows, giving her a really look.

"Call Dr. Fisher's office and tell him how you feel! Miranda, out!" she finished, then jumped down from the box. Her friends clapped her on the back as they cleared the area on the street. Joey ignored me, immediately meeting with her friends in a circle, planning their next step. My daughter was nothing if not organized and persistent. If Dr. Fisher thought this was the end of it, he was sorely mistaken.

Speaking of Dr. Fisher, he appeared at the bottom of the steps, looking displeased.

"Josephine, my office, now," he requested. I made eye contact with him and he motioned for me to join them. Joey trailed behind us, lugging her massive backpack, as we made our way back into the building. We walked through the halls and into his office, where he shut the door.

"Please, take a seat," he motioned to the chairs in front of his massive desk. Even though I was no longer a student here, there was an intimidation factor. "Josephine, while I can appreciate your efforts to protest, there is a line to be drawn between speaking up and the safety of our students. Today, you crossed that line."

"Dr. Fisher," she jumped right in, looking confident, "It would not have been necessary if Coach Litton had allowed me and three other girls to try out for the football team."

"There are ways to protest, Miss Miranda," he said. "And blocking traffic in front of the school is not one of them. Any one of you could have been hit by a car."