“We need one more person for Ismene,” Ms. Terrence announced to the class. “Any volunteers?”

 “Emily!” several people announced. In the Greek play Antigone, the character Ismene was a shy, meek little soul. Emily fit her description perfectly.

 “I guess I’ll do it,” Emily shrugged. The class was translating the play into “modern English” and acting out a trial. Antigone, the main character, was on trial for going against King Creon’s ruling against the burial of Polyneices, Antigone’s brother, who had attacked the city after being unable to claim the throne. Emily was playing Ismene, who was Antigone’s sister and who had apparently aided and abetted in the scheme. While the others worked, Emily quietly read her part to conjure up an argument. She knew she would need something good.

 On her way out the door at the end of band class, Emily was handed an envelope by Mr. Minuzo. At the same time, a blonde-and-tan student assistant handed her another envelope. Both were addressed to her.
 "Oh, goody, two letters," Emily chirped.
 When she was in the hallway, she opened Mrs. Whittier’s letter and read it. She had guessed right, of course. She absentmindedly tossed the letter into her backpack and opened the other one. Although the bell rang right into her ear, she kept reading.

November 3, 1998

Colette Moreau, Nicholas McStandish, Amy Jessner, Emily Collins, Carl Wilson, Kyle Vernier, Michelle Lewis, Jodie Harris, Paul Murray, Daniel Ward, Curtis Johnson, Brandon Iverson, Simon Mitchell and Joel Gregson:

I need for you to know that I found your behavior and conduct this past Friday night completely unacceptable and inexcusable. You were all very aware of the expectations and limits set for  the halftime performance, and your actions in defiance of those expectations amounts to nothing more than blatant and intentional insubordination.

Your actions that you exhibited were selfish, thoughtless and immature. The needs of the band as a whole were completely brushed to the side as you attempted to stand up against the rules that had been set down. For some of you, putting yourself ahead of the band has been your code of conduct for the entire year, and it came as no surprise that you would pursue this course. For most of you, however, I was deeply, deeply disappointed and will find it difficult to intrust you with responsibility again in the future.

The performance Friday night should have been a culmination of all of the hard work and effort put into this marching season, instead, it serves as a black mark on the evening and your credibility. And, despite the high praise from the audience, and the fact that most people did not realize any problem, it doesn’t change the fact that “we”, the band, know exactly what took place.

After careful consideration and reflection, I have decided that the consequences will be as follows:

1. You are no longer members of the Farmingville Marching Band - you will not wear the uniform again. This includes any post-season performances for the remainder of the school year.

2. Any and all leadership positions that you hold are no longer yours effective immediately. This includes sections leaders and Band Council posts.

3. A letter of apology addressed to the Marching Band should be on my desk by Friday, November 6.

These decisions are final, and there will be no discussion on them. I have been more than patient with you in this year of change, and I understand the difficulty that some of you are having, but this goes well beyond that. The level of disrespect here is unconscionable. It is inexcusable.

Mr. Minuzo
 

cc: Gary Mendelhin, High School Principal
 Steve Farrand, Superintendent
 

 Emily sat down on the brick floor and quietly folded the letter back up in her hands. Her mind was completely blank when she slowly stood back up, slung her backpack over her shoulder and fought back tears as she bolted for the nearest exit.

 “Everything that could go wrong today did go wrong today!” Emily moaned to Linda, the only other worker around. The store was very slow that night, and Emily was wandering aimlessly, straightening shelves and racks and thinking about Mr. Minuzo’s letter. She had no idea how things would turn out. Would the other seniors really give up their positions and write those letters of apology? She wasn’t sure they would. She knew Nick and Colette and maybe Jodie didn’t bend easily, and neither did Michelle. She just didn’t know what to think.

 She was glad when it was announced that they could close their registers. She counted the money, checks and receipts, locked the register, turned her money in to the office, gathered up her coat and purse, and bolted out into the cold. She shivered as she unlocked her car, got in, and started it up.

 When she got home, Josh was the only one there. It was nine-thirty at night. Emily wondered where her parents would take Justin at nine-thirty at night.

 “They went to some meeting at the Murrays’ house,” said Josh, not looking away from the television. “Something about that letter you guys got from Mr. Minuzo.”

 “What time did they leave?” Emily asked, taking off her name tag.

 “I don’t know. Around eight.”

 “They could have waited for me! I want to go over there. I want to know what’s going on. And why did they take Justin?”

 “They’re probably on their way home already. The Murrays’ number is on the table. Justin probably went because he’s in marching band, too, and you’re his sister, and he could kinda represent you... or something.”

 Emily picked up the phone and called the Murrays. Mr. Murray answered the phone and told her that her parents had already left. She went upstairs, changed into her pajamas, and worked on her homework until her parents got home. As always, she did her trigonometry and physics first, then moved on to easier subjects. Her parents arrived just as she was starting to write down her argument for the Antigone trial.

 Mrs. Collins told her that they had basically just discussed the letter, the involvement of the Gutierrez family in the whole ordeal, the non-involvement of Mr. Mendelhin and Mr. Farrand, and possible courses of action.

 The next morning, Emily felt horrible. She decided not to go to school. Her stomach was not bothering her very much, but she was very nervous and felt horribly humiliated. She just couldn’t go to school and face Mr. Minuzo. She slept on and off throughout the day, watched television, and caught up on her schoolwork, trying to relax the entire time.

 When Josh and Justin came home that afternoon, Justin told Emily that there was an after-school meeting for the seniors, Mr. Minuzo, parents and administrators. Mr. and Mrs. Collins were both still at work, so Emily, who was feeling somewhat better, drove herself to the school. She had not bothered to take a shower that day, and she was dressed in grubby, somewhat mismatched blue sweats. She didn’t care. She just wanted to see what this meeting was all about.

 She was the last senior to arrive at the meeting, and she was rather late. A few of the seniors gave her pitying looks when she walked into the band room, and she even caught a glance from Mr. Minuzo.

 “Hi, Emily!” Michelle said kindly when Emily walked in. Emily bit her lip, raised her hand quickly to greet everyone, and took a seat next to Curtis. She was the only one not wearing her senior shirt. When she was settled, Curtis leaned over and asked, “Hangovers suck, don’t they?”

 “I didn’t get drunk!” Emily hissed angrily. She sat cross-legged in her chair, used her coat as a pillow, and began listening as the heated discussion between the seniors and Mr. Minuzo continued. Principal Mendelhin, Vice-Principal Thomas and the choir director, Mr. Riegel, were all in attendance.

 It seemed to Emily that they argued about the same thing. Nick, Colette and Jodie did most of the talking, with Simon cutting in once in a while and an occasional interjection from Curtis. Mr. Minuzo wanted the seniors to change for him and adjust to his standards; the seniors wanted to keep the old traditions. It seemed that they could not find a happy medium.

 Then Mr. Mendelhin cut in with a stern lecture about how the seniors had disregarded the rest of the band and only thought about themselves. Emily knew this was not true about herself. She had bottled up her anger long enough--but only found herself crying. She buried her face in her coat and kept from sobbing audibly. Curtis kindly put his arm around the shaky Emily, gave her a little squeeze, and said gently, “Hang in there, kiddo.”

 “They didn’t really agree on anything,” Emily said to the ceiling in hopes that her parents were listening. She was sprawled out on the couch in cooler, comfortable clothes, still fresh from her shower. “Mr. Minuzo’s gonna leave the senior show up to the parents from now on. And I guess we have to start adjusting to him a little. It’s going to take some time.”

 Emily’s only wish was for the situation to end as quickly as possible. Her life was already out of order with her work schedule and schoolwork. She didn’t need anything else dragging her down. She flopped into her bed that night and slept soundly.