Keller kids are tired of fighting their school board. The latest front: theater | Opinion
When I’m on the phone, I have a habit of pacing back and forth. As you can imagine, my downstairs neighbors in my New York City apartment loved that. So did, apparently, the Keller police who greeted me outside of a Keller ISD board meeting. (Who says New York and Texas have nothing in common?)
“Hi, what are you doing here?” a man in a tan suit asked, flanked by two taller officers rocking 10 gallons on their heads and pistols in their holsters. I explained my situation to the man who leads Keller ISD security — I was just a Star-Telegram reporter on his way to watch their school’s board meeting. I asked if I was in any trouble.
“Well,” the suited man said, “people can see you pacing outside the window and just wanted to know what you’re doing.” They asked me not to walk around like that, so I walked inside. “Walking While Black, eh?” one parent at the board meeting told me in jest. (Hey, man, they said it, not me!)
To be clear, I was ambling down a public sidewalk. I know my rights. But I obliged because, more importantly, I know who has the power in this situation — sadly, those aren’t always the same.
Keller ISD kids know a little about their lives getting policed. As it stands, the school board tells them which books they can read in their classrooms and libraries. Then on Oct. 8, the school district informed parents that it would restrict students with lunch debts of $25 or more from hot meals. Children whose parents fell behind offered a “SunButter and jelly sandwich” for breakfast, while lunchers get turkey and cheese. (How much is Keller saving on sandwiches anyway?)
Pushback from parents angry that kids behind on their lunch money might be penalized in public for being a few bucks short provoked a follow up memo from the schools in apparent attempt to soften the policy by announcing a “Keller ISD Lunch Fund” in partnership with local nonprofit Community Storehouse.
And on the night of Oct. 24, Keller’s theater kids were protesting the latest indignity: the school board inserting itself into script approval, functionally choosing which plays they’re allowed to perform.
Until recently, the process was far more normal. Keller’s kids and performance arts teachers worked together to select the plays. Then they performed them. But echoing the department’s functional book ban, the school board decided that the superintendent – not the educators directly involved and certainly not the teens under their care, seized the final say over performance scripts.
But at the board hearing, for two minutes a turn and not a moment longer, the theater geeks, choir nerds, and their parents reclaimed their right to perform, with the open microphone as their stage and the blank faced board members their audience. One by one, with many in matching tie-dye shirts celebrating the queer identities many of the kids represent, they used their legally mandated speech rights to protest the board’s interference and express their full selves.
“You’ve taken away our abilities to do important works that challenge us, to make us think and help us grow,” said Elliot Malaney, a high school sophomore addressing the board. “What are you so afraid of? Do you think censoring us will stop us from thinking critically about tough topics? From understanding the world around us? All you are doing is suffocating our creativity and limiting our potential.”
Elliot was one of a few kids and adults who noted that performing arts were some of the safest places to be queer at in their community. They also talked about how Patriot Mobile, which bills itself as “America’s ONLY Conservative Christian Wireless Provider,” formed a political action committee to engineer the election of board members willing to implement these draconian policies.
Sunday Ramsey, a 14-year-old Central High freshman, made a point of introducing herself as a Christian before touting her gleek creds. She tried to show the board that neither of her passions needed to be in conflict.
“It seems like you’re … using your religious beliefs to control what content comes in and out of our schools,” Sunday said. She quoted the 22nd chapter of Matthew, where Jesus commands his followers to love their neighbors.
“That includes people who are different from you.”
Though at least half the attendees were there to support the kids, there was no cheering or booing — Keller ISD banned both. Instead, the kids stuck their “jazz hands” in the air, wiggling them back and forth at the end of each classmate’s testimony.
After they finished, I asked a mom what, if anything, would change from the hearing.
“Absolutely nothing,” she said.
In her view, the school board would be no better than a chalkboard when it comes to sincerely engaging with their demands. They came anyway because they know their rights, even though they know who holds the power. And too often, they’re not the same.
This story was originally published October 29, 2024 at 5:27 AM with the headline "Keller kids are tired of fighting their school board. The latest front: theater | Opinion."
