The exhibit, titled Life on the Street, was enclosed in a shadow box, and many of the models were three-dimensional. Although Violet knew little about art, even she could tell that the girl had great creative ability, and she decided to encourage Janie to enroll in some art courses. The background of the box was a cityscape, a dark backdrop of brick buildings, but the attached figures were in vivid colors.
The scene portrayed the outcast, the struggling poor, the homeless, as well as troubled teenagers—all victims of an existence that had lost its meaning, lost all hope and faith.
The caption at the bottom said it all. “There, except for the Grace of God, goeth I.”
Violet was careful not to comment on the projects, for she didn’t want to give any of the pupils false hopes when she would have no part in the decision making. All day long, as she worked to arrange the exhibits, she thought of Janie and what her life must have been as a runaway. She wanted to help the girl, but where did compassion end and meddling start?
To take her mind from Janie’s problems, Violet thought of Misty Gibson’s poor efforts to produce a replica of the White House. The columns sagged, and instead of being white, glue had seeped through the paint, leaving the structure a sickly gray. She and Roger had exchanged amused glances when he had carried his daughter’s project into the gym. Misty was a good cheerleader, and popular with the other students, but she wasn’t overburdened with artistic talent. Jason, Roger’s oldest, was much like his father in personality and appearance, but Misty’s blond hair and fair features indicated that she must favor her mother.
Three judges from adjoining counties met in the gym at the close of the school day to make their selections and the teachers went home. Violet resisted the urge to return in the evening to learn the judges’ decision, and she was able to say honestly to the dozens of telephone calls from anxious students, “I don’t have any idea whom the judges chose. We’ll have to wait until tomorrow to see.”
But before bedtime she did know the judges’ decision, and she learned it in a revolting way that both angered and disillusioned her. When the phone rang at ten o’clock, she was pleased to hear Larry’s voice. She had been so busy all day that she hadn’t exchanged words with him.
After greeting her, Larry said, “I’m at the school now, and we have a problem that I think should be corrected before the students arrive tomorrow. Janie Skeen was not only awarded first place in her grade, but she was given the Best of Show award. You know what that means.”
“Oh, yes, and I’m delighted. I thought her exhibit was fabulous, and it certainly deserves to be entered in the regional exhibition.”
“Well, I’m not happy about it, and I want those awards changed.”
Not willing to believe what she was hearing, Violet said, “Why?”
“Would you want a girl with her reputation to represent us at a regional function?”
“And why not?” Violet demanded, trying not to sound belligerent.
“It’s unthinkable. There are other projects just as deserving as hers, and it’s going to cause trouble with our most supportive parents if we allow Janie to be the winner. I’ll admit her exhibit is realistic, and it should be—she has obviously seen all of that firsthand.”
Violet felt sick. She had always admired Larry for his ability as an administrator and his fairness to the staff. Until now, she hadn’t considered that Larry was influenced by his mother’s narrow opinions. She conceded that many of the parents would be angry, for there had been some strenuous objection when Janie enrolled in the school. Violet had dealt with angry parents many times, but always before she had Larry’s support. He obviously wouldn’t support her now, but to do what he suggested was repugnant.
“Larry, I will not change those awards.”
“Then, I’ll do it. If you haven’t seen them, you don’t even know who was chosen.”
“But I will know, for the judges send me a copy of their deliberations and the winners’ names. And,” she paused to draw a deep breath, “if Janie doesn’t have the recognition she deserves, I’ll make their report public.”
“You’re making a mistake,” Larry said angrily and terminated the conversation.
Violet didn’t even go to bed for she knew she would never sleep. She agreed with Larry that many of the parents would complain long and loud about Janie being chosen, and she had enjoyed a good rapport with the parents, who had endorsed everything she wanted to do. She didn’t want to lose their support. But why should they blame her?
And what about her relationship with Larry? His attention had given Violet more self-confidence than she had ever had. She enjoyed the prestige she had gained in Maitland because she was a part of the Holland circle. More than that, their relationship seemed to be serious.
Was it necessary to sacrifice her future as a teacher, and her bond with Larry for the sake of a girl she had known such a short while? Violet had to honestly admit that the cost seemed high, but her conscience and ethical upbringing wouldn’t let her do otherwise.
She could almost hear Aunt Ruth say, “Right is right and wrong is wrong. You can’t ride the fence between the two. Nobody has ever said that living an upright life is easy.”
She envisioned Tom Walker, the minister at the local church she attended. He had preached a sermon on integrity a few weeks ago. His theme Scripture had been from Psalm 101, “No one who practices deceit will dwell in my house; no one who speaks falsely will stand in my presence.”
And there was Roger Gibson, a man she admired. More than once she had heard him say to his youth group, when he was challenging them to live a cut above the average, “It is better, if it is God’s will, to suffer for doing good than for doing evil.”
It was a difficult decision to make, but as a Christian, a teacher, and a friend to Janie, she couldn’t give in to Larry’s demands. She would have to face critical parents without his support.
A cup of strong coffee, a cinnamon roll, and a hot shower did little to bolster her courage when she set out early for school. She had to be on hand to answer students’ questions or complaints if there were any. Violet went first to the gym and checked the projects. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that Janie’s exhibit still had the Best of Show purple medallion, so she wouldn’t have to confront Larry publicly on that.
Overall, she was pleased with the awards and didn’t see why anyone should have any just complaints. Violet entered her room a half hour before any students were due, which gave her time to review her lesson plans. Her mind had been blank on everyday matters since Larry had called last night. After readying the equipment she would need for the day, Violet accessed the Internet. She felt faint with relief when she read her one E-mail letter: “You were right, of course, and I apologize. If there are any complaints, I’ll try to field them in the office. Dinner tomorrow evening? Larry.”
Feeling as giddy as a kite in a strong March wind, Violet clicked the Reply to Author button, and typed in, “Sounds great to me. I’ll be ready at six.”
When a bouquet of roses arrived during her prep period, Violet concluded that her friendship meant as much to Larry as his did to her.
Although no one made any complaint to her about the judges’ decisions, Violet was alert to an undercurrent of discontent among the student body. As soon as the gym opened and the students learned the outcome, Janie had rushed into Violet’s room.
“I can’t believe I won, Miss Conley. You were right—the judges didn’t know anything about me.”
“It