Background: I've been having a rather... "lively" discussion with my friend Cherish--and I hope I don't say anything stupid so she'll still be my friend after this (I love you, Cherish!).
This is my second attempt at a response. My first post was crazy long and still hadn't addressed all the issues.
A Story: So I'm in Kindergarten and we're playing musical chairs. Corrie, the cute little blond girl is the odd one out, and no matter how hard she tries, she just can't get a seat. Between one of the musical sets, Timothy comes over to me and says, "You should give up your chair so Corrie can have a chance sitting down."
I protest, "But I've been playing fairly and doing well. I'm not going to give up my chair for her."
But then Mrs. Donaldson comes over and says, "Now Luke, you've got a very nice sweater and Corrie does not. You need to give up your seat so she isn't disenfranchised. And you needn't worry: You've got a sweater."
I don't know what the word "disenfranchised" means, but I can't really argue with the teacher.
The game continues until Brandon wins. But in the next round Lisa rolls her ankle when Timothy bumps into her so she's going to be moving slowly. Mrs. Donaldson gives me a look.
What!? Corrie was bad enough, but Lisa is my arch nemesis. She picks on me on the playground and makes my young life miserable. But Mrs. Donaldson didn't see Timothy bump into Lisa, so he's not going to be held responsible.
It sit out another game. "But I've got a sweater." Whatever that has to do with this.
The next round starts and Mrs. Donaldson steps out of the classroom. When the music stops, Douglas actually shoves Corrie out of her chair to get a spot. Mrs. Donaldson returns to see Corrie sitting on the ground, sobbing.
"What happened?" the teacher asks.
"Douglas pushed Corrie out of her seat," I say.
"Did not," the guilty party replies.
Mrs. Donaldson looks at Corrie and the other children. "Did he?"
No one says anything.
"Well, Luke," Mrs. Donaldson finally says, "why don't you sit out this game too. You've got your sweater and it's the nice thing to do."
I started homeschooling the next year.
Conclusion: That was a work of historical fiction, but in good old Sonlight fashion, I figured a story would be more powerful than a logical discourse.
Filmmaker, Writer, Expectant Father