Girls in Charge by Debra Moffitt

venture to say I know more about this school than any other living being,” he said. “Hey, that reminds me of a funny story about the faculty parking lot…”
    But Bet interrupted.
    â€œSo you know everything there is to know about Margaret Simon—or just stuff that happened while you were on the staff?”
    â€œOh, my dear, I know much more than that. I’m a student of history. Those who don’t know their history are doomed to repeat it,” Principal Finklestein said, nodding confidently at the audience.
    â€œSo you must know that the original Pink Locker Society—then called the Pink Locker Ladies—is a recognized club at this school?”
    â€œWhat? I don’t know about recognized. What does this have to do with my fortieth-anniversary party, Bet?”
    Principal F. straightened himself up in his cozy brown chair.
    â€œWell, you just said you’re a student of school history, correct?”
    â€œWhat is all this about? We haven’t even covered the nineteen eighties yet.”
    Bet handed Principal F. a yellowed piece of paper that was curled at the edges.
    â€œIf you are familiar with the school’s archived files, you’ll recognize this document.”
    Principal F. put on his narrow reading glasses and looked over the document.
    â€œWhat our principal is looking at is the original sanctioning paperwork for the Pink Locker Ladies. It’s dated 1961.”
    â€œWhat is it?” people were murmuring in the audience. Piper reached down and grabbed my knee. I reached over and grabbed Kate’s forearm. In a flash, our brains did the same little sashay. If this was the sanctioning document for the Pink Locker Ladies (aka the Pink Locker Society), then the PLS has always been a sanctioned group. And if that’s true, then the very reason we were not allowed to go on the NYC trip was melting away like a popsicle in July.
    â€œThis document would have been in force in nineteen seventy-six, when the PLS was forced to shut down. And it would have remained in force through this school year when the Pink Locker Society made a long-overdue return to Margaret Simon Middle School,” Bet said.
    â€œWell, I would have to take a closer look at this, verify that it’s not forged or being misinterpreted,” Principal F. said
    â€œBut if it checks out, then the PLS is a sanctioned group and no one can be punished for being in it, right?”
    â€œWell, technically that would be correct, but…”
    â€œIn fact, the sanctioning document would require Margaret Simon to offer this activity, right?” Bet said.
    â€œI would have to consult the by-laws. It would probably depend on whether there was a teacher-advisor available to sponsor the group and several other technical details, details an eighth-grader—even one as bright as you, Bet—wouldn’t be able to decipher.”
    â€œAgreed,” Bet said. “Which is why I consulted the school board’s attorney and she was able to verify everything I’ve said.”
    Principal F. adjusted himself in his seat and sat up straighter.
    â€œWell, Ms. O’Connor knows her stuff, I suppose. Far be it from me to argue with the school board, some of whom are here today to celebrate my anniversary,” Principal F. said, making a lame wave over to the right side of the auditorium.
    The audience members were quieter now, not understanding exactly what was going on, but seeing that an eighth-grader had the principal on the ropes about something.
    â€œOh yes, right. We can continue this discussion off-line—and preferably before everyone departs for New York tomorrow,” Bet said.
    With just the mention of New York, cheers and whoops went up and the audience took on the manners of escaped farm animals.
    â€œUm, excuse me. Hello? We’re not done.”
    The crowd settled down only somewhat while Bet explained that we’d be ending the program