Daniel Mendiola

The Security Crisis

Only the wise man foresaw the crisis. Everyone else was just excited to have such a grand school in such a small town. 

“Cheers for the principal, and for the new school!” shouted the townspeople.

“The school is quite grand,” opined the mayor.

“Our town is truly blessed,” intoned the preacher.

“I’ll drink to that!” bellowed the town drunk.

The new school was indeed grand. Erected on a low hill overlooking sprawling pastures and fertile fields, the two-story structure had classrooms, a library, a gym, a band hall, a cafeteria, a brick facade, and an arched entryway. Building such a grand school in such a small town had taken a long time, but the whole town pitched in, and when the school finally opened, children poured gleefully into the building from every direction. They worked diligently at their lessons all week, and on Friday, the principal hosted a town meeting in the school cafeteria to celebrate. Newspapers declared the school a major success with headlines like: “New School Signals Bright Future for Small Town,” and “New School Proves Hard Work Pays Off.” In fact, the principal declared Hard work pays off! as the school motto. 

As the celebration continued, the principal noticed that the town’s wise man was in attendance. He was the wisest man in town, naturally, so the principal asked him if he had any words of wisdom to commemorate the occasion. 

The wise man pondered sagaciously for several moments. The whole town leaned in to listen.

“I agree that the school is grand,” the wise man began, “and we are lucky to have such a grand school in such a small town. Nevertheless, wisdom demands us to recognize that building something grand is only the first step: the real accomplishment is maintaining it. The new school has a library, a gym, a band hall, and a cafeteria, but there is no security whatsoever. Will it continue to be grand if it is not secure?”

In hindsight, it was obvious that the school needed to be secure, and the townspeople were embarrassed that they had not thought of this before. Luckily, the town jester chimed in to lighten the mood: 

“Whoa, times have really changed since I was a kid. I mean, back in my day, they needed security for all the kids skipping school, not the ones showing up. The only school security we had was the truancy officer! Seriously though, things at the school are going great so far, so I think the wise man is being a little dramatic. I say if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it!”

The jester was a funny guy, and the townspeople appreciated his willingness to say such silly and embarrassing things out loud. It made them feel a little less foolish after the embarrassing moment with the wise man.  

The following Monday, students were surprised to find the classes suspended. Before school could resume, each child needed to make an appointment with the principal’s office to acquire a verified photo ID. Students had to bring their parents to the appointments, who showed their own photo IDs and birth certificates to prove their own identities, along with the child’s birth certificate. They also had to bring a third party witness who could attest that nothing was forged. 

The process took several weeks, but it was very secure, and when the school finally reopened, students arrived excitedly with their new photo IDs. As they rushed to their classes, however, students found that the principal had also implemented a new entry procedure. All the doors were locked except for the arched entryway at the front. Before entering, students had to line up at the door to wait for the first period bell, and then pass by a security guard who checked each student’s ID one-by-one. It was a lot of work to install all the new locks and the security guard booth, but the whole town pitched in. 

The entry procedure was slower than expected, and many students ended up being late for their first period classes. In fact, children toward the back of the line had to wait so long that they missed first period entirely. Students were already anxious at having missed out on so many lessons while the IDs were being made, and now with the entry procedure cutting into first period, they fell into a panic. Naturally, they brought their concerns to the student body president, who dutifully relayed them to the principal, adding her own opinion that it seemed unfair that some students were missing out on their morning lessons just by following the rules.

The principal was alarmed at hearing the student body president’s report. How could such a high-ranking student think that something as important as security was unfair? Had she not understood anything the wise man said? After mulling over the awkward misunderstanding for a few minutes, the principal decided that the best course of action would be to reiterate the school motto. 

“We obviously can’t sacrifice security just because some students are scared of a little hard work,” he explained in a stern, pedagogical tone. “If they are worried about missing class because they are at the back of the line, then they just need to work harder to get a better spot in line. We don’t believe in handouts at this school, but as our motto says, hard work pays off!”

The line to enter the school began forming earlier and earlier every morning. Children who lived closer to the school had an advantage at first, but students who lived farther away started getting up so early that even those who lived across the street had to significantly alter their routines to be able to compete. Students who rode the bus did not have much control over how early they could arrive, but they begged the bus driver to start the route earlier. When this didn’t work, they stopped riding the bus altogether, leaving the buses to run their routes empty. By Friday, most children were arriving four hours early in the hope that they wouldn’t miss any morning lessons. 

At the end of the week, the principal once again organized a town meeting in the cafeteria. 

“Cheers for the principal, and for a secure school!” shouted the townspeople.

“The security is quite grand,” opined the town mayor.

“Our security is truly blessed,” intoned the town preacher.

“I’ll drink to that!” yelled the town drunk, anxiously feeling around in his pockets at realizing that he had misplaced his photo ID after passing security. 

The mood of the meeting was celebratory once again. Newspapers printed headlines like: “School Addresses Major Security Oversights,” and "Principal Supports Tough Measures to Fight School Fraud.” The meeting did start a bit late since the townspeople also had to have their photo IDs checked, but this was just as well since so many students were frantically reviewing missed lessons and in no rush to go home for the weekend. 

Once everyone had finally assembled, the principal thanked everyone for pitching in to help with the security problems. He also invited the wise man to share any additional words of wisdom. 

The wise man began with a thoughtful pause that only added even more gravitas to every wise word that followed. The whole town listened carefully.

“I would offer this advice,” the wise man finally proffered. “I agree that the photo IDs and the entry procedure make the school more secure than before. Nevertheless, wisdom demands us to recognize that security does not only depend on identifying the people entering the school: security also depends on identifying the objects carried inside. How does the security guard know that the students are only bringing in school supplies? If the school can’t control the kinds of things that students bring inside, is it truly secure?”

It was a disheartening revelation for the townspeople that such a grand school was still so lacking in security, though in hindsight, it was pretty obvious, and it should not have taken a wise man to notice. The townspeople were even more embarrassed than before, so they appreciated the town jester easing the tension: 

“OK, no offense, but does anyone else feel like our wise man kind of sucks? I thought wise men were supposed to say cool shit like: A wizard is never late, and all we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us. And yes, I know those are Gandalf quotes, but like, why can’t our wise man be more like that? Is it too late to trade this guy in for a wizard? Or like, at the very least, can we try to snap him out of this weird darkest timeline obsession?” 

This gave the townspeople a good chuckle. Even though they worried about the growing security crisis, they all agreed that the town jester was getting funnier every week.  

On Monday, by the time the school opened, many of the students had already been waiting in line for almost six hours, while children at the front of the line had arrived Sunday evening and spent the night. When the line began to move, the students discovered that the principal had implemented an additional protocol that slowed the line even more. In addition to checking each student and validating their photo ID, the security guard now meticulously checked every bag, purse, satchel, and pocket in order to make sure that only approved school supplies could enter. Students also passed through an x-ray machine before final approval, which had been expensive and difficult to install, but the whole town pitched in.

The procedure was slow, yet very secure. Most students missed first period completely, and as the procedure dragged on, students toward the back of the line missed multiple classes. The student council received a record number of pleas from anxious students, and the student body president relayed the concerns to the principal, adding her own opinion that the security procedures seemed excessive given that she could not think of any examples of a student bringing something into school that interrupted learning. 

The principal was dismayed at hearing the student body president’s report. Perhaps she was only “book smart” and didn’t have enough common sense to understand how important security was? Or maybe she did understand, but was simply too timid to stand up to her misguided classmates? Regardless, he knew that the best course of action was to have faith in the school motto. 

“As the student body president, it is up to you to set an example for the other students,” the principal explained in an even sterner, more pedagogical tone than before. “I know that is a lot of work, but rather than taking the easy route of avoiding conflict, you have to be strong enough to stand up for what is right. Just remember the school motto and you can’t go wrong: hard work pays off!”

By the end of the week, the majority of the students were camping out all night in front of the school to try and get a good spot in the security line. In fact, the most hard-working students went home for less than an hour each evening to eat dinner before rushing back to get in line as soon as possible. By Friday, when the principal and the townspeople arrived in the cafeteria for the next meeting, newspapers filled with less optimistic headlines like: “Rampant Loitering calls School Security into Question,” and “Will Student Camping Crisis Hurt Property Values?” 

“We are worried that the school is losing its grandeur,” opined the townspeople. 

“How can we make the school grand again?” inquired the mayor.

“I am sending my thoughts and prayers,” added the preacher.

The town drunk probably shouted, “I’ll drink to that!” from wherever he was, but unfortunately, he was not able to attend the meeting since he had lost his photo ID and couldn’t get past security.

Naturally, the principal was frustrated that the school continued to suffer from so many security issues. Still, he was confident that the situation was nothing that couldn’t be solved by hard work, along with the wisdom of the wise man, of course. 

As the wise man came forward to speak, the whole town fell silent in nervous anticipation.

“There is still hope that the school can become as grand as it once was,” the old sage began. “Nevertheless, wisdom demands us to recognize that security does not only depend on what happens inside a school’s boundaries: a school is also impacted by its surroundings. If children are allowed to be on school grounds at night with no oversight, is it really secure?”

The townspeople felt the anxiety of embarrassment tightening in their chests once again. Obviously the outside of the school needed to be secure as well as the inside. Why had they needed a wise man to tell them?! Fortunately, the town jester offered some more silly observations as comic relief.

“OK, what in the actual fuck? Like, if students can’t secure a spot in the classroom, even after waiting in line literally all night, then what is the point of the security? Yes, we have a security crisis, but the problem isn’t that there’s not enough security. The problem is… wait for it... TOO MUCH security. It’s way too much. Seriously, how does no one get that? Like, I’m really starting to question reality at this point.”

A loud guffaw rang out immediately from the townspeople. The jester’s jokes were becoming so absurd and ironic that it was impossible not to laugh. It was a welcome respite from the ongoing stress of securing such a grand school in such a small town. 

On Sunday afternoon, as the students arrived to make camp in front of the school, they found that security had put up new fencing to block off the camping area. They also found posters on the wall and pamphlets in a kiosk explaining the new entry protocols. From now on, students were no longer allowed to be on school grounds more than thirty minutes before the first period bell. Moreover, when they did begin to line up, the order would no longer be based on who arrived first. Instead, students would be assigned a place in line based on their own merit. It was difficult for the school to assess class rank since so many students had already missed so many classes, but once the teachers submitted their rankings based on improvised criteria, students received a numbered spot in the entry line, with higher-ranked students at the front, and lower-ranked students at the back. The school had to close for another week since it needed time to gather the class rank data and mail letters to each student informing them of their spot in line.

When the school finally reopened the following Monday, students lined up exactly thirty minutes before the first period bell in the precise order that the school had assigned them. As they entered the building, the security guard meticulously checked each student’s photo ID, cross referenced each name with the class rank, and then thoroughly checked every backpack, purse, satchel, and pocket before they passed through the x-ray machine. Even most of the children toward the front of the line ended up being late to first period. Students at the middle of the line did not get through the door until lunch, and the lowest-ranked students missed the school day altogether. These students, of course, did not get a chance to talk to the student council since it was prohibited to be on school grounds when the school was closed, and they were sent directly home by security while still waiting in line. Other students, however, rushed to talk to the student council. The student body president brought their concerns to the principal, adding her own evaluation that the class ranks seemed arbitrary given the limited grades teachers had to work with. 

At this point, the harsh reality of the situation began to sink in for the principal. Was it possible that the student body president thought the jester’s critiques were serious? Did she not realize that they were just jokes? His faith in the school motto was truly being tested, but he held fast.

“I’m not sure why you keep getting things so confused,” the principal replied in his sternest and most pedagogical tone yet, “but leaders like yourself really need to demonstrate clear values. Think about how unfair it would be to take a spot from a top-ranked student who worked so hard for it just to give it to a lower ranked student who didn’t work as hard. Is our motto, complaining pays off? It may be difficult for lower ranked students to hear, but if they want a better spot in line, all they need to do is work harder to improve their rank.”

Over the next few days, morale at the school improved considerably. Teachers found that the children were more motivated than ever, especially the lower-ranked students, and the classrooms were surprisingly full compared to previous weeks, even in the morning classes. The principal breathed a sigh of relief. After so many weeks dealing with such a difficult security crisis, things finally seemed to be falling into place. He knew he had been right to keep faith in the motto!

On Friday morning, however, the situation took a drastic turn for the worse. When the security guard ran a report comparing entry records to class attendance, the numbers did not match. In fact, far more students were reported to be in the classrooms than the number who had passed through the security guard’s meticulously secure checkpoint. 

It was a horrifying revelation: children were somehow entering the school without passing security. 

The school closed immediately for a security inspection, which required a whole week to complete. Sure enough, inspectors found evidence that children had been clandestinely entering through several of the building’s back doors, side doors, and even several windows. Faced with such a damning report, the principal understood that securing the school would take more hard work than ever.

When the school finally reopened, students found it more secure than ever. In addition to the security guard at the front door checking student faces, photo IDs, bags, pockets, and entry number order, the school now had additional guards stationed at the other doors and windows to make sure that lower-ranked students did not sneak into their classes without passing security. Teachers also sent updated attendance sheets to the security guard at the front door every time a new student arrived to class, double-checking that these students had indeed passed security. The process made everything slower, but much more secure. By the time the school day ended, only about half the children waiting in line had entered the school.

The next day, the vast majority of students gave up on the security line, instead embracing the strategy of sneaking through side doors and climbing through windows. The extra security guards were effective at apprehending most of the children and detaining them in the hallways, yet a few managed to slip by and sneak into class while the security guards were busy arresting others. Most of the students who did make it to class were still apprehended later in the day once the attendance sheets revealed that they had not passed security, but they worked hard to learn as many of their lessons as possible before they got caught. And even the children who were detained in the hallways strained their ears to overhear as much as possible of what their peers were learning in the classrooms. Some of the detained children also tried to pass notes to the student council to relay their concerns, but by the end of the week, most of the student council likewise found themselves detained in the hallways. Finding herself the only member of the student council left to talk to the principal, the student body president proposed an amnesty system in which lower ranked students could apply to enter through a different door which would still be be secure, yet expedited to give them a more realistic chance of attending classes and improving their class rank. 

The principal was crestfallen. How was the student body president still so misguided? It didn’t take a wise man to see that rewarding rule-breaking with amnesty only incentivizes more rule-breaking! He decided it was hopeless trying to reason with someone as irrational and selfish as the student body president. 

“I realize now that I have been far too tolerant with you,” the principal explained in an extra stern and extremely pedagogical tone. “I’m big enough to admit that. That’s called taking responsibility. You could learn a thing or two about that. But at this point, I have to be realistic. We can’t have a student body president who openly advocates for breaking the rules. Consider yourself relieved of the position.” 

As the next town meeting in the school cafeteria commenced, an air of dread and bewilderment was palpable. The townspeople wanted to pitch in to help, but they were exhausted, and they had no idea what to do. Newspapers filled with headlines like: “Security Crisis Worsens with No End in Sight,” and “Small Town Overwhelmed by Security Failures.” 

Luckily, the wise man spoke with more wisdom than ever. As he stepped forward, the whole town listened fervently.

“There is no question that the school is in dire need of more security. Nevertheless, wisdom demands us to recognize that if the punishments are not strict enough to deter lower ranked children from breaking the rules, then we are only incentivizing more rule-breaking. If we are encouraging students to break the rules, can we really say that the school is secure?”

As the wise man concluded, the overwhelmed townspeople immediately turned to the jester for some much needed comic relief. This time the jester went with a more experimental, self-aware bit that was pretty weird, yet undeniably funny: 

“MORE SECURITY?! Seriously, what the fuck is happening?! Like it’s incredibly obvious that all the security is literally the source of the problem. How does no one else see that? This has to be fake, right? Like this is all some kind of weird Matrix computer simulation that someone plugged my brain into? Yeah, honestly that would be more believable than everyone being this stupid. OK! You can let me out now, whoever you are! It’s just a simulation! I figured it out, so you can let me out now!” 

He was really committed to the bit, and the townspeople laughed raucously. They had no idea that the jester was such a talented method actor, and they were excited to think that he might have a future in Hollywood. Still, they could not deny that the wise man was right, and they prepared to face the crisis.

When the school opened on Monday, students arrived to a parking lot littered with pamphlets and surrounded by security guards shouting into bullhorns. As they explained, an additional security force was now added inside the school dedicated to immediately removing any children caught entering without passing security. Rather than keeping students in the hallways, this additional security force would take students to a detention zone outside the school for processing. That way, it would be harder for lower-ranked children to sneak by security guards who were occupied detaining other children, and the detained students would not have their rule-breaking rewarded by being allowed to overhear class lessons while they waited in the hallways. Moreover, agents at the detention zone would then check the photo IDs of the students caught, creating case files that would be sent to the security guard at the front door. For the first infraction, students would be automatically moved to the back of the line, and for the second infraction, students would be banned from entering the school at all for ten weeks. Accordingly, the security guard at the front door also checked entering students against the updated files to make sure that they had not been moved to the back of the line, or banned – an additional procedure that made the line even slower, but of course, much more secure. 

Even with the extra hands, the security guards found themselves overwhelmed. As soon as they caught one child sneaking through a window, another crawled through, and another, and another. The guards barely had time to pass them off to the deportation agents responsible for taking children to the detention zone outside. The students also became more creative, not only sneaking through windows and doors, but also tunneling through the floor and repelling through the roof. In spite of all the new guards, some students slipped through and made it to class for a few minutes before being caught by the attendance audits and classroom checks. Others still managed to overhear bits of lessons as they waited in the halls for the detention guards to take them outside. Nonetheless, the guards worked tirelessly to send the students out as quickly as possible, and the detention zone filled up rapidly.

In contrast to the detention zone, the classrooms filled more slowly than ever. But this was just as well since the school had fired most of the teachers anyway in order to pay for the expensive security measures. Even with the extra funds gained from letting teachers go, the school still couldn’t afford to pay for the security outright, but it had secured a pretty reasonable loan, and it was at least able to service the debt without having to pay so many teachers. Plus, the whole town pitched in.

The entire debacle was befuddling. Even without the former student body president around to pitch her absurd ideas, the principal understood that the students at the school had completely abandoned reason. Perhaps it’s better for the school that most of them will be banned for the next ten weeks, he thought to himself. Maybe they will finally learn that hard work pays off!

The whereabouts of the former student body president remained a mystery. No security guards had seen her all week, but rumors circulated that she had stolen the blueprints to the school and devised a system for students to navigate the air ducts and clandestinely attend their classes by listening through the ceiling tiles. Security had tried to catch her by sweeping the air ducts with a K-9 unit, and while the dogs did catch a scent, they never managed to find her among the labyrinthine duct system.

Ultimately, the ten-week suspensions did little to reduce unauthorized entries into the school, and the administration had to hire even more security guards to keep up. In spite of the harsh punishments to disincentivize lower ranked students from entering the school illegally, they continued to try sneaking in as if they had nothing to lose. The school built new walls where doors had been, stationed more guards in the hallways, sped up the removal rate, and issued harsher punishments of 100-week or even lifetime suspensions. Nothing seemed to work, and newspapers filled with headlines like: “Security Lapses Lead to Broken School System,” and “Principal under Pressure to Resign for School Security Failures.” 

At Friday’s town meeting in the cafeteria, the disillusioned townspeople felt helpless to confront the ongoing security crisis.

“This was such a grand school, but nowadays there is just no security!” lamented the townspeople.

“We should fire the principal!” opined the Mayor.

 “We are in a real moral crisis,” intoned the Preacher.

“I’ll drink to that!” added the town drunk as security guards escorted him out of the meeting. He still hadn’t found his photo ID, but he had paid a lower-ranked student to show him how to sneak into the cafeteria since he cared deeply about the town and felt bad that he had missed so many meetings.

The principal hung his head in shame. How had he built such a grand school, only to let it fall to ruin? This is exactly what the wise man had foreseen!

As if summoned by the principal’s thoughts, the wise man stepped forward to speak at that very moment. The cafeteria grew silent as he cleared his throat to offer a final gem of sage counsel to the ailing town.

“I’m not defending the principal. He likely should be fired. Nevertheless, wisdom demands us to recognize that firing him won’t be enough. We all need to take responsibility. We built a grand school, yet we have let these lower-ranked students create a culture of entitlement and disrespect. If every one of us is not committed to teaching these troublemakers their place, will the school ever be secure?” 

As the wise man concluded his inspiring remarks, the townspeople noticed that the jester’s experimental, self-aware bit had evolved into an immersive performance art piece as he frantically clambered about the cafeteria tables and ranted nonsensically: 

“Oh my god, fuck all of this! Seriously, I have no idea who is controlling this, but please just get me the fuck out of here! HELLO! ANYBODY! Wait… hold on a second… who are you? Yeah, YOU! HEY! Can you hear me? Do you know how to turn this shit off? HELLO? God, this is all so fucked… It can’t be real… It has to be a simulation…”

At that moment, the former student body president burst through the ceiling tiles leading a team of lower-ranked students who repelled to the floor with tactical precision. They grabbed the jester, hooked him into another set of cables, and then evacuated him back through the ceiling in a flash. The K-9 unit stationed at the cafeteria door barked furiously, but the students disappeared into the air ducts so instantaneously that the dogs lost the scent too quickly to give chase. The townspeople agreed that the jester’s humor had gotten a lot weirder, but it was still undeniably funny, and they appreciated that he worked so hard to lift their spirits as they faced the daunting task before them. 

Obviously, the school still needed a lot more security.