Chapter 21: School Forum

The school board meeting was in the gym. The same gym where kids used to laugh at me in middle school for wearing a hoodie in July.

Here’s something I’ve learned about public speaking: it’s easier when you have nothing to hide.

Not because the words come more naturally. Not because the nerves disappear. But there’s a certain freedom in standing in front of two hundred people with your skin on full display. You’ve already given them everything. There’s nothing left to be afraid of.

That’s what I tell myself, anyway, as I walk into the gymnasium on a cold December evening, my bare feet slapping against the polished floor.

The school board has called a public forum to discuss the pilot program’s renewal. The program is up for review every two years, and this is the first time it’s been on the agenda since I joined. The auditorium is packed with parents, teachers, students, and community members. Some of them support the program. Some of them want to burn it to the ground.

I can tell which is which by the way they look at me.

The supporters nod. They smile. They make eye contact like I’m a person.

The opponents stare at my chest. Then they look away. Then they stare again.

I found a seat in the front row, next to Willow. She takes my hand under the armrest.

“You don’t have to do this,” she whispers.

“I know.”

“You can just sit here and let other people talk.”

“I know.”

“But you’re going to speak anyway.”

I look at her. Her eyes are worried, the same way they’ve been for weeks.

“Yeah,” I say. “I’m going to speak.”

She squeezes my hand. I squeeze back.

The Speakers

The forum is moderated by the school board president, a woman named Dr. Han, who looks like she’d rather be anywhere else. She explains the rules: three minutes per speaker, no interruptions, and keep it respectful.

The first speaker is a parent I don’t recognize. She’s wearing a pantsuit and an expression of righteous indignation.

“I’m not comfortable with my children being exposed to nudity in an educational setting,” she says. “It’s distracting. It’s inappropriate. And it sends the wrong message about body image and self-respect.”

A few people clap. A few people boo. Dr. Han calls for order.

The second speaker is Mr. Park, my English teacher. He stands at the podium, adjusts his glasses, and speaks in his calm, measured voice.

“The pilot program has been in place for two years,” he says. “In that time, there have been zero incidents of harassment or misconduct involving program participants. The students who have chosen to participate have shown remarkable maturity and resilience. I support renewing the program.”

The third speaker is a student not from my school, but from another high school. She’s wearing clothes, but she’s holding a sign that says My Body, My Choice.