Recently, I went to see a movie in Hollywood Forever Cemetery with Ari, my sister and several friends. One of those friends I hadn’t seen in over 11 years. We went to high school together, and she was a year behind my sister and one year ahead of me. The thing that we had in common was choir.
All three of us were in choir, and Mr. D was the director (I am not using his name, or even the first initial in his name, in order to protect my sorry butt). Mr. D was a Napoleonic figure, a short man with a short fuse. He was beloved by many students, but he wasn’t the nicest man in the world. In fact, if you did something that he didn’t like, Mr. D could be meaner than any football coach.
Mr. D wasn’t all bad. He taught me a lot about music, particularly classical vocal pieces. I understood the beauty that harmonies and choral music could be. I have an incredible passion for music because of him, partially because he was an incredibly passionate person. But in that passion was a form of madness. Mr. D demanded conformity. And if you didn’t conform, you were persona non grata.
Probably the best example of this was me. I fought with him regularly, whether it was having to sing songs talking about “the Lord and savior” (the reply I got was that all the other Jewish kids were doing it, which was probably because they didn’t want to get on his bad side) or even the pronunciation of Hanukah (he pronounced it as if there was an “i” in it, and I called him out, saying there was no “i” in the word Hanukah). My punishment was never making it to one of the top groups, no matter the fact that I could sing a lot better than quite a few of the people who did (and everyone knew it). Mr. D ran a tight ship, and anyone who got in the way was going down. In high school, where you're supposed to be trying to figure out who you are as an individual, why should be forced to conform at every turn?
The worst part about it was that Mr. D could get away with anything he wanted. His booster club made a ton of money, and he always brought back trophies from different competitions around the country. Naturally, this made the administration, particularly the principal, turn the other way when he put Vaseline on the teeth of his choir kids so they’d smile more or yell at them when they weren’t doing things his way. The friend who was with us that night told us that after she dropped the top group in the choir for the spring semester (as she was about to graduate early), he came out to the cafeteria and started screaming at her loudly in front of the entire study hall.
Unfortunately for her, she didn’t see how things changed in the years afterward. In my senior year, a new principal came to the high school. He was a reasonable man, not taking anybody desperately trying to kiss his butt seriously – particularly Mr. D. I came to know the principal well, and he liked the fact that at 17, I had a good head on my shoulders and knew what I wanted in life. During our first meeting, he asked about Mr. D. I remember giving a diplomatic answer – not mean, but not necessarily that nice. It was probably from that moment that he kept a closer eye on him.
When I was awarded a high school graduation speech, Mr. D took more notice of me and gave me something to do in the choir final show of the year. Mind you, we butted heads again, as he expected me to give the same performance every night for the video they made. But I realized at that time that he had no power over me anymore. I heard a rumor later that he was particularly mad at me after my high school graduation speech, as I stole the show from his beloved singers who also performed during it.
Time went on, and I kept in touch with several of my younger friends who were still in choir. One of them became the downfall of Mr. D.
One day, he was yelling at this student, who was then in senior year, and got so mad that Mr. D pushed the student into a door. The student and the student’s parents reported it immediately. When it was reported, former students came forward and reported their stories of Mr. D’s abuse. The principal suspended him from teaching for a year. It was also around this time that his wife left him. His daughter also stopped speaking to him.
He got remarried and once again teaches choir, but from what I have heard, he doesn’t have the power he used to. The principal who started in my senior year is still there, 11 years down the line, and seems to not be going anywhere. I’m sure he’s still keeping an eye on Mr. D.
As for me, I sat in a Denny’s 10 years later talking to a friend and my sister and reminiscing about how Mr. D couldn’t stand me and it was the reason why I wasn’t in a top group. Back then, it was considered the worst thing not to be the good girl and conform. Now, 10 years down the line, my sister is so proud of what I did. It may not have been the most popular thing to stand up to Mr. D, but it was the right thing to do – and we don’t often remember what was popular, but rather what was different, yet true.
Sometimes, you just need to stand up for yourself. Your voice will be heard, and it certainly won’t be forgotten.
So on that note, here is a recipe for you. It’s something that is super-easy to make, so if you have to stand up for what’s right, you can eat something delicious, too.
COD WITH SALSA
3-4 fillets of cod, boneless and skinless
1 jar of peach salsa
Salt and pepper
Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. Put the cod in a baking dish and season each side with salt and pepper. Pour the peach salsa over the top of the fish, making sure it’s covered as much as possible.
Put the fish in the oven and bake for 15 minutes. Serve hot with either brown rice or salad for a delicious healthy meal.
QUICK TIP: If you can’t find cod, this recipe will work with halibut or even tilapia, although tilapia may get a little flaky during cooking.
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