Prologue

A note to the board of education, by Jason McMillan

I understand that the board is considering expansion of The Naked In School Program (NIS) and that the form of these changes is still being debated. As part of the fact gathering process, I have been asked to appear before the board to offer my thoughts and opinions. I, and my Program partner, are making our mandatory NIS journals available to you for your consideration to help the board understand what high school students experience in The Program.

For the board, my partner and I respectfully submit the following journals.

I’m sure you’ve heard it all before. Everyone has written about their time in The Program -- it’s required. I’m sure you’ve read them all too; at least the ones that are made public. If anyone gets to read this one, well, it was that time again, Monday morning, which meant selection of a new group of students who would be running around school wearing nothing but shoes, or even less if they choose to go barefoot.

I’m talking, of course, about the Naked In School Program which requires a small group of students to attend school and all school related functions in the raw, that is naked, for a whole week here at James Lovell High School. It’s been a graduation requirement for who knows how long and there’s basically no getting out of it.

My father tells me of how there used to be protests in the streets over The Program. That’s hard to understand; nowadays it’s just accepted as something you have to do to graduate. I think nudity in general, whether in private or public, is pretty much accepted by almost everyone. It’s almost routine. At least it’s routine for those who’ve been through The Program, but not for those who haven’t. But when your time has come, you do what you have to to graduate high school. It’s a time to shed inhibitions and let the world see your new pubescent body. Let me tell you, it’s still a traumatic experience the first time you take your clothes off in front of everyone. What makes it worse, is that we have to let ourselves be touched and inspected in the most intimate and humiliating ways by all the other curious and bratty students.

My name is Susan Powell, or Sue to my friends. This is my journal. I’m not much of a writer, but putting my thoughts and feelings down on paper is something I’ll be able to read years later which I think is kind of cool.

Because of our school’s size, four students from each class -- freshman, sophomore, junior and senior, sixteen in all -- will be found running around school in the raw for a whole week. That makes it around 500 students to get through from the time they’re freshman to graduation, which is about the size of our graduating classes, give or take.

I should also mention that there are others who are forced to join the group from time to time as ‘extra’ participants in The Program for light punishment for various infractions, usually for taunting the naked students or taking things like the ‘reasonable request’ rule too far and sometimes for other mostly minor things. This punishment would be in addition to their own required week.

I should also mention that there are those who would come to school naked, or more likely semi-nude, just because they can. Those are the weird ones but it takes all kinds. However, as I’m going through The Program, it is now November and the weather is too cold outside. Nobody is running around school nude this week just because. The naked ones this week are doing it because they have to. The others, except for a few diehards, won’t show up naked until spring.

I am not one of the weird ones. I consider myself well adjusted. But even so, it was a still a scary proposition for me. Just think of being nude in front of all your clothed friends the whole week. I shouldn’t have been so nervous but I was -- I’ve never been one to let it all hang out like some do. The few friends that I have who have gone through The Program before me have come out with a mostly positive attitude, which lessened some of the anxiety I felt when I heard my name called over the PA system this morning. Plus, I’ve had a whole year to prepare for this -- I didn’t get called last year, my freshman year. I was hoping to wait until I was a senior but Mommy told me that getting it over with now would mean I wouldn’t have to later.

The PA system blared during homeroom:

“The following students please report to the administrative office: seniors -- Thomas Clark, Victoria Davis, Charlotte Miller, and Harold Wilson. Juniors -- Julian Davies, Sharon Everly, Eve Michelson, and Brian Schwinger. Sophomores -- Jason McMillan, Susan Powell, Harriet Singer, and John Spencer. And finally freshman: Donald Andrews, Lily Foster, Michael Miller, and Nora Spencer.”

I knew all of my fellow sophomores that were called: Harriet, John and Jason. I also knew two of the Freshman, Nora and Michael, and two of the Seniors, Charlotte and Vicky. This was an odd grouping. I have to tell you that I am one of the tallest students, and probably the tallest girl in school. No, I don’t play basketball, so don’t ask. But I do play volleyball. Yay!

Jason, on the other hand, was hands down the shortest student ever at Lovell High. I don’t actually know for sure, but I think he was four feet tall. However, he made up for being short by being very smart. Not that there was anything wrong with being short; I’ve known him since elementary school. He used to be a very good friend, but we don’t talk much anymore.

I tried to make the walk to the office that morning last as long as possible, dragging my feet down the hall -- I’m sure we all did. I met up with Harriet and John outside the principals office.

“John? They called your sister too.” I told him.

“Unless there’s another Nora Spencer, then yeah, I know.”

“Oh this will be fun.” I said sarcastically rolling my eyes.

“Don’t remind me. She’s going to blabber all about this to Mom. I bet she made Dr. Bruce fix it this way. She’s kind of his pet, you know.”

“More like a pest, huh?”

“Yeah. Little sisters.”

“We’re sure to be partners, John. Looks like you get the shrimp, Harriet.”

“At least I’m big enough to fight him off.” Harriet said, jokingly.

“Partners don’t fight each other off. They do the opposite.”

“I hope Jason doesn’t expect me to give him relief.”

“But what if you need relief? Aren’t you going to let him do it?”

“I don’t have to choose him, do I?”

“You don’t have a choice, just like you don’t have a choice about being in The Program.”

“Do you think I can defer my time?”

“No.” both John and I said in unison.

“Shhh. Here he comes.”

The four us made small talk for a couple of minutes until Miss Juanita, Dr. Bruce’s secretary, ushered us all into the principal’s office and handed out the brochures and towels. The towels were a grim reminder of what was to come. We would be able to wear shoes and nothing else. The towels were for sitting on and we were required to keep our books and book bags from obstructing the ‘view’ of others. That’s why most carried a backpack during their time in The Program, if they didn’t already.

In case you haven’t figured it out by now, Dr. Bruce is our principal. We all like him, except for those who are constantly in trouble. He’s there at most of the volleyball games to cheer us on and he knows me personally from the team. All of us who were doomed, I mean all the called students, grouped together by class as we assembled in the office.

“Students, you know by now why you’re here and how the program works. Please look over the brochures, although I’m sure you’re familiar with the objectives and rules by now. You will all be excused as being late for your first period classes. Now are there any questions before we begin? Yes, Mister...”

“It’s McMillan sir.” Jason said. He had his hand up.

“Mr. McMillan, yes. What can I do for you?”

“My mom signed the form releasing me from participating, sir.”

“And your full name, son?”

“Jay, that is Jason McMillan.”

Dr. Bruce tapped on his keyboard, moved the mouse around and waited for a few seconds.

“Oh, yes, Mr. McMillan. I see. I’m happy to finally meet you but I’m sorry, we don’t have a record of any forms your mother turned in regarding The Program.”

“It has to be there.”

“What was the nature of grounds for release?”

“Medical.”

“I see. Did you have a note from a medical professional?”

“Yes, sir. My doctor.”

“I’m sorry, son. It’s not here. You will need to do your time in The Program this week. The selection committee works very hard to pair students up and make sure they all have the opportunity to complete this requirement. I’m sure they have their reasons why you’re here.”

“But Dr. Bruce...”

“Mr. McMillan, we always seem to have students who try to weasel out of this at the last minute. Don’t make me add additional time to your required week.”

“Yes, sir.”

Jay didn’t look too happy about this, although nobody except Nora really seemed to be excited and we were all sort of dreading taking off clothes in front of everyone else here, and that included me.

“Are there any other questions? No? Then let’s get started. There is a metal box up here for each of you to put your clothes in. It will be locked and will be opened at the end of the day. You may keep socks and shoes on. Please take your books and the towel with you. Miss Juanita will give you your bracelets and late slips for your first period class. Let’s undress now.”

Miss Juanita was in Dr. Bruce’s huge office with us and helped us sort out things into the our boxes. The time had come.

It wasn’t as hard as I expected taking my clothes off. I did a little wiggle for John. He winked. John had a nice hairy chest. For a guy his age I suppose he was average size, about five nine. I, on the other hand was a good six or more inches taller than him at six foot four inches. There weren’t any boys taller than me in the whole school except for a couple of seniors and maybe a junior or two.

You could say I was an early bloomer. I bloomed long ago and I bloomed big. I wore a B-cup bra, a small B, which went right into the box today. I played sports and I would say I had an athletic body. I have very dark hair which I keep in a pony tail most of the time.

Harriet followed behind John in getting nude. She was a little more shy than I was. She had nothing to be shy about, with that nice thin figure and kind of pale skin. She had auburn red hair and a few freckles, and before long she was standing with us in nothing but her wedged sandals. As thin as she was with those heels she looked kind of hot. Especially nude.

But we had a problem in our tenth grade group: Jay was just standing there, still dressed, looking at his feet; the rest of us were nude yet not a stitch of clothing had come off of him yet.

“Jay ... Jay!” I said.

“What?”

“Hurry up. You’re going to get into trouble.”

“Why didn’t Mom send in the papers? She said she did.”

“I don’t know. Maybe they got lost in the mail.”

“She was supposed to have carried them to the board of education office, and that was last year.”

“Maybe they denied the request.”

“I can’t do this, Sue.”

“Sure you can. Why not?”

“I have ... I have a development problem.”

“It’s okay. Nobody’s going to make fun of you. They’ll get into trouble if they do.”

“They already make fun of me and that’s with my clothes on.”

We were all egging Jay on to take off his clothes. I felt a little bad for Jay. But at least us concentrating on getting him undressed made me forget about my own nudity.

“I won’t. I promise I won’t make fun you. It’s not so bad.” I said to him.

“That’s easy for you to say. You’re pretty.”

That was so sweet of him. I smiled.

My name is Jason McMillan and it was announced over the school loudspeaker -- that filthy, crackly, noisy archaic public address system -- this morning for me to go the office. Why can’t they just send the announcement to our watches, or phones? They want everyone in school to know, that’s why.

I was called with a group of others to go to the school’s main office. I knew I wasn’t in trouble because we all knew what this was about: The Naked In School Program. It’s exactly as it says -- the unlucky chosen are to attend classes and any other school related activities wearing nothing.