By Marlene Samuels

This is the second post of a two-part series. Read Part 1 here.

My high school was infamous for mean girls from wealthy families and an archaic gender-biased curriculum. Senior boys crafted items from wood—bookshelves, coffee tables, trays and more—in woodworking shop. Senior girls convened in the second floor kitchen and sewing room for Home Economics, testing recipes and sewing clothes or accessories to make a house a home.        

On the day of the “fiasco,” I’d missed class because of my dentist appointment. I walked into the Home Economics two minutes before the final bell rang to deliver my Authorized Absence Permit to Mrs. Putznick.

After the disappearance of “Queen of Mean” Peggy’s purse and its mysterious discovery in my sewing-supplies basket, Mrs. Putznick had commanded me to stay after class. Poking her chubby finger into my chest, “You do understand stealing won’t be tolerated in our school under any circumstances, do you not? I have a responsibility to file a disciplinary complaint, so you and I are paying a visit to the principal’s office.” 

Each girl glanced my way with something resembling pity as she left, except for Peggy and MaryAnne, that is. They lingered in the doorway, smirks inhabiting their faces.

Mrs. Putznick led me to the elevator— flaunting her cherished key— for our visit to the fourth-floor administrative wing and Mr. Gould, the principal. I sat on a bench outside. Mrs. Putznick strolled in, approached his desk and the two engaged in extensive muttering and whispers. But then I heard Mr. Gould’s booming voice identify himself on the telephone with words that sank my heart.

“Mrs. Bernstein, I’m afraid Marlene has been involved in an incident and unfortunately, there’s no choice but to suspend her for three days while we investigate. She’s required to appear before the Disciplinary Board with a parent or guardian before she’ll be readmitted.”

When I arrived home, Mom’s suspicion was unmistakable. “Didn’t I teach you better than to do such dishonest craziness?” She shouted, angry and hurt.

“I didn’t do it, I swear! Those two mean girls set me up. I wasn’t even in school when it happened because I was at the dentist. You dropped me off, remember?”  She’d been so stunned by Mr. Gould’s call, she’d totally forgotten. Within seconds, she regained her composure, launching a string of Romanian expletives, a mother bear defending her cub. I imagined my hearing would prove entertaining.

The Board were a scary bunch! The Principal, Vice-Principal, Dean of Senior Girls, School Psychologist, Social Worker, Mrs. Bischoff my alcoholic homeroom teacher, ingratiating Mrs. Putznick and —more terrifying and intimidating than all of them combined, my mother—had assembled in the dining hall for my 3:00 p.m. hearing.Despite Mom’s initial embarrassment over my suspension because some of her clients had kids in my class, she arrived punctually, stoked for battle. 

Debris from two lunch periods had been cleared. Three tables had been arranged at the front of the cavernous dining hall, one short table faced two longer ones. From the double-doors, the setting had the appearance of a television courtroom drama.

 Mr. Gould first read Mrs. Putznick’s complaint aloud then announced,  “We’ve called this meeting to hear Marlene Bernstein’s appeal about her suspension and to receive an apology. Theft, as noted in our student by-laws, carries a three-day suspension. The complaint filed by Mrs. Putznick states that Marlene stole Peggy’s purse during Home Economics.”  I listened attentively, anxious to tell my side but especially eager to witness Mom decimate the committee. Queen-of-mean Peggy’s purse was found in my cubby, the result of an “all-hands-on-deck” search and was, no doubt, incriminating evidence.

Mom and I faced the committee. “Marlene, we want to be clear that you understand stealing isn’t condoned. You owe everyone involved an apology for your shameful conduct.” Mr. Gould boomed, his glare intense enough to pierce my forehead. The committee nodded agreeably. “Marlene, please stand to make your apology to everyone.”

He’d barely finished speaking when Mom sprang from her seat, burst into action and shocked everyone present. “Marlene, you will do no such thing so don’t you dare move!” And she let loose.

 “How dare all of you! You’re the ones who owe my daughter an apology for your negligence and disrespect, your favoritism and discrimination, not to mention the embarrassment you’ve caused her and me. You have it on record that Marlene wasn’t even in school when this so-called theft occurred.” But she wasn’t done yet. “And Mrs. Putznick, shame on you! I want you to tell me when Marlene stole that purse if she wasn’t even in school?”

Everyone froze. After a long moment, Mr. Gould addressed the vice principal. “Margaret, contact Peggy and MaryAnne’s parents the instant you get to your desk. I’ll expect them in my office tomorrow promptly at 9:00 a.m.! It’s clear, we’ve suspended the wrong student. And Mrs. Putznick, I’ll see you before you leave.

“Marlene, on behalf of our entire school, my apologies for the shameful, unfair treatment you’ve received. Be assured, we’ll get to the bottom of this travesty. We don’t tolerate theft, but neither will we tolerate lying and bullying.”

Epilogue: Peggy and MaryAnne were suspended for the remainder of the semester. The partners- in-mean failed to graduate in June and because they graduated in December, also missed first semester of college.

© Marlene Samuels 2025

Marlene holds a Ph.D., from University of Chicago. A research sociologist by training, she writes creative non-fiction by preference. Currently, she is completing her book entitled, Ask Mr. Hitler: A Memoir Told In Short Story.  She is coauthor of The Seamstress: A Memoir of Survival, and author of When Digital Isn’t Real: Fact-Finding Off-Line for Serious Writers. Her essays and stories have been published widely in anthologies, journals, and online.  (www.marlenesamuels.com)