RULE YOUR SCHOOL
IN 1984 I was a junior at a stale,
smelly place called Jefferson Senior
High School in a dinky little town
called Alexandria, Minnesota. Even
though I received excellent grades
I was always being warned about
my attitude problem. Once, I threw
a water bomb at the vice principal
and got in-school suspension. I had
to study and eat inside a room we
called The Cube.
Several members of the school
administration came by to tell me I
should be a leader and "live up to
my potential" instead of "making
trouble." One even said I should
dress differently and cut my hair,
"I've seen you wearing some nice
clothes before, John," he told me.
"So why do you always come to
school in this old flannel shirt and
this torn army jacket? And what's
this on your jacket? Spray paint?"
I felt like telling him, "Not just
any spray paint. This is from the
time I painted our class number on
the water tower. And next time I'm
going to spray paint 'Principal Red
man is a dick.
But I kept my mouth doct
said nothing. Some time after i
came out of The Cube seeking my
revenge, something bad happened
to my friends and fellow students.
You see, we had all pooled money
together from selling candy bars
to buy a big television we could
watch during lunch. But the princi-
pal decided shows like Days Of Our
Lives were too sexy. We couldn't
afford cable, so if we didn't watch
Days the only thing left was The
Farm Report. The principal said that
would be just fine and we could
learn about the price of pork bel-
lies. Then he put a big padlock on
the television case so we couldn't
watch without his permission.
I didn't even like Days Of Our
Lives, but lots of beautiful senior
women did, and I didn't think the
principal was being fair, especially
since it was our television. I guess I
was also trying to impress girls by
what I did next.
Using a crummy 1940s typewrit
er, I made some flyers and posters.
I couldn't even afford copies, so
each was an original. I didn't have
Liquid Paper so I would make the
corrections with a pen. My posters
didn't complain about the deal with
the television. I believed complain
ing was useless, and only radical
action was worthwhile. The posters
and flyers were announcing a lunch-
room strike for the very next day.
"You don't have to be hungry!" I
explained on the poster. "This is
not a hunger strike. Bring a lunch
from home. Just don't give any
money to the lunchroom until we
can watch what we want!"
As an afterthought, I added: "All
power to the Student Liberation
Organization!"
A friend who was an artist drew a
logo on some of the posters, a
raised fist clutching a pencil.
I wanted to know who would
support the strike, so I started hav-
ing people sign a list announcing
they would beart of the strike. I
started with some people who
were sort of popular, but ot stuck
up, knowing of these people would
strike, lots other studs would
follow their example. A goddess
named Zavi Dinda was one of the
first to sign my paper.
Suddeny the vice pripal burst
into the desroom with one of my
pers in my hand
"Are you
he shouted,
beneath my
on behind this
wing my own flyer
But before could answer, Zavig
jumped up and declared, "We're all
behind this! A the people whose
names are on taper were the
Student LiberationOrganization,
and a couple things are going to
change around here! Or else!"
I just stood there in complete
shocked silence. The people who
had just signed the list were even
more shocked. But we knew Zavia's
dad was a science teacher and she
had a mysterious ability to get away
with everything. Another guy who
signed had a mother on the school
board. Another young woman was
the daughter of a big local cop.
And my parents were professional
dumpster divers, so we had all the
secret info on everybody in town.
"Look!" pleaded the vice princi
pal. "Um, I didn't think it was such a
great idea, locking up the televi
sion. Um, let's go to my office and
have a meeting..."
"The SLO is drawing up a list of
demands!" I announced. "We will
be there in half an hour expecting
you to grant our demands, or we
will strike!"
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And then some of us chanted
"Strike! Strike! Strike!"
"Slow students unite!" one guy
shouted, and we laughed.
"We're slow but we ain't dumb!"
Zavia quipped.
So we just walked out of class
and drew up a list of demands in
the hallway, sitting by the lockers.
Some people who signed it were
scared they would get in trouble. I
said if anything went wrong I would
take all the blame. But then Zavia
announced this was her idea, too,
and if I did detention she would
do it right at my side.
Oh, boy!
We met with the vice principal at
a big awal table where the school
board wou have meetings. A sec-
retary gave big pichers of ice
water and asked if any us wanted
ee. Wow
Then, tomy eternal hock, we
everything we demanded, even
gh some stuff took mths and
happening, like maybe the sixth
graders were going to winter ad-
venture camp for a whole week.
If something unexpected hap-
pens, like maybe a gas leak forces
the school to be evacuated, most
of the food will go to waste. More
importantly (from the school's point
of view) nobody will buy a lunch
and give the school money.
Do the math! One thousand stu-
dents paying $1.90 is $1,900 every
day. But there's more! Not only will
the school lose $1,900 in revenue if
nobody eats school lunch for one
day, but the school will lose anoth
er bunch of money because they
cooked up food they couldn't sell!
I know this sounds like counting
the same pizza pockets twice, but it
works! The school will not only
lose "anticipated gross revenue,"
but they will also lose "business
and product expenses." They will
still have to pay the cooks for food
thatooked but never sold!
And, of course, pay for the food!
Figure about a dollar per meal of
"business loss." Now that $1.90
lunch has cost the school $2.90 for
a whopping grand total of $2,900
on a thousand meals! And that's
just for one day.
we were forced to stage aitoPay the electric bill for the ovens!
show that we were still sous and
organized.ught the ce princi
pa was just beng nice because the
pen Bad been agh a jerk. I
donarstvertreal reason
ehind our cce until almost five
years late while I was working on a
little newspaper called The Lakes
Review and covering a dull school
board meeting.
No matter how much your school
may deny it, no matter how much
power they seem to have, a lunch-
room strike is a powerful weapon
which can be used to get anything.
you want.
At the meeting, the board start
ed to discuss a lunchroom strike. I
thought they were talking about my
strike, but it turned out a whole
new group of students were striking
ing because the food in their lunch
room tasted awful and they wanted
better food. The strike had lasted
five days and cost the school over
ten thousand dollars.
"It's going to cost a lot more if
the other fifty percent of the stu-
dents strike," explained one of the
board members. "We're losing
two thousand dollars a day! We
need to get some better cooks in
there, fast!"
My jaw dropped down to my
chest. Suddenly, I realized why my
little threat of a strike had scared
the vice principal so badly. It was a
simple matter of math, which was
always my weakness.
At my school a hot lunch cost
$1.90 and most of the students ate
lunch. Lots of students had free
lunches, but the money was still
paid directly to the school by gov
ernment. The cooks always had a
rough idea of how many lunches
to prepare and they adjusted the
number if something special was
Can you get in trouble for lead-
strikes? Sure! But what is trou-
ble, really? Somebody yelling at.
you? Big deal! You have a right to
refuse to eat a few crummy school
lunches. You have a right to tell.
other students to refuse to eat a
few crummy lunches. You gottal
fight for your rights!
The situation at your school will
be different than mine and if you
are going to succeed you will need
to make up your own plan as the
situation unfolds. Or explodes. But
the food fight secret weapon will
work at any school. I've been to
many high schools and I see it's still
the same food they served us.
Remember, the 1960s were dull
until about 1965. Well, it's now
1995. In the movie Flashback Den
nis Hopper said, "Once we get out
of the '80s, the '90s are going to
make the '60s look like the '50s!"
That's what's happening, and you
are part of it!
Good luck and watch your back.
-John Hoffman, author, The Art.
& Science of Dumpster Diving
JOEY PULSIFER RIDES FOR MAPLE