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The Silent Majority: A Very Short Story

american-flag-graduation-cap-4I solemnly swear that the story you will read is 100% true. If you don’t believe me, ask my classmates, those who are still alive and not incarcerated that is.

A long, LONG time ago (circa 90ish), I was a senior. Aside from the small number of students in my class, my teeny-tiny school was no different from any other. Being a senior was the most important event of my thus-far uninspired existence.  To be a senior meant  . . . well, everything! There were so many plans to be made, outfits to buy, and hair to be teased. We’d all worked hard to get to that point, and we took our decision-making seriously, outrageously so.

In fact, a handful of us–literally like five–decided we would make all of the choices for our senior class, our motto, our song, and the color of our graduation gowns. The Fab Five had struggled for years through all of the tough classes. We would be the honor students, and we thought we far outclassed our fellow seniors because those who make the top grades are naturally the ones who should make the choices, right? See when you begin to think of yourself as the “cream of the crop” a funny thing happens; you  forget others have opinions, too, opinions that don’t always match your own. But none of that matters when you have the control. You see others as too diminutive to care or even matter.

So, we rolled through senior year, choosing homecoming skits and posters, class favorites, officers, yada yada yada, until the day came to choose the really important stuff, the stuff that differentiates you as a class, the “forever” stuff (incidentally, the stuff you forget about five years after graduating). We gathered in our sponsor’s room, armed with our list of demands, no longer even choices in our minds, more substantial like cement. Then our story takes a turn. Unbeknownst to our protagonists, a cabal had formed–a coup the likes of which we’d never imagined. A treacherous fraternity had plotted to overthrow the Fab Five! Our silent majority had united behind a singular plan, take away the power of the Fab Five. Our world plan toppled. We got exactly what we deserved–absolutely nothing.

The thing is, as bitter as I was about wearing a bright purple gown, I see now how wrong we were. We tried to impose our ideas on a group that had their own ideas. AND WE WERE SHOCKED THAT IT DIDN’T WORK! It took five years, but finally our silent majority stood up to us and said, “No.” They weren’t any happier about looking like a bunch of grapes on that stage than we were, but they’d made their point in the loudest voice possible. We took for granted that we always knew best, and we didn’t.

All day post-election, I’ve thought about this memory. I realize before you Facebook scream at me that it’s not exactly the same. But you have to admit, it fits the situation.

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