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Everyone has dreamed of doing something big. All people want to be recognized for starting something, like an uprising. Well, I started an uprising. And even though I’m not famous for it worldwide, I’m famous at Franklin Elementary School for starting the pajama rebellion.
It all goes back to second grade. Our school’s dress code required closed toed shoes, sleeved shirts, and long pants. And when it’s a blistering hot day in the middle of August, long pants are just about the worst thing you can wear (unless you are planning on getting heat stroke!) Well, I found a loop-hole to the rule: pajama pants. They were long to satisfy the school, but cool and comfortable to satisfy me. It was perfect.
I ran to school, eager to reveal my plan to my friends. But the first person who saw me was Ms. H, principal of Franklin Elementary. She had cool blue eyes, which were good for staring kids down, and Barbie blonde hair; everyone thought it was a wig. Being a tall and skinny woman, her cheekbones jutting out of her face, she was terrifying. And the fact that she wore trench coats everyday didn’t make her any friendlier.
She gave a disgusted look at my pajama bottoms.
“Those are VERY out of uniform!” she snapped and walked away, very distraught.
I smiled and thought, “Well, you better get used to it!”
At recess, I gathered my friends around to tell of my ingenious plan. We would get everyone we could to wear pajama pants. Ms. H showed that she and some teachers would get mad and annoyed with us wearing pajamas to school. So as the complaints rolled into the principal, slowly and slowly she would start to crack. In the end, she’d have to change the dress code to shorts to satisfy us.
By third grade, we had plenty of kids faithfully wearing pjs to school. In fourth grade, almost the entire grade wore pajamas daily. Our protest against hot pants was going well. Teachers were filing complaints to the principal, saying our pants were distracting to the class environment. And even the principal was starting to crack.
Then, she finally couldn’t handle it anymore. Our principal, the cold, hard Ms. H, finally had to do something. So, she summoned our whole grade in for a recess talk. These would happen from time to time. If many kids in our grade were doing something bad, then we would all have a talk with Ms. Householder during recess.
As we filed into the band room, I caught eye contact with Ms. H. She gave me an icy glare. I just smiled back, smelling change in the air.
Everyone sat down on the floor as instructed. Ms. Hgazed over the bright colors of our pajama pants.
“Now, students,” she said in a voice of death. “There have been some complications with the dress code lately.”
“Here it comes!” I thought excitedly. “We are now allowed to wear shorts!”
“People have been wearing pajama pants to school,” she continued. “This is unacceptable and very out of uniform! Thus, as of today, ‘no pajamas’ will be added to our dress code. Anyone violating this rule will be given a detention.”
I was shocked! My plan had backfired! Instead of giving in and letting us wear shorts, Ms. H had tied a firm knot where my loop-hole once stood.
When we left the band room, I caught a glimpse of the principal’s smug smile. I knew she had won.
Now, every year when they hand out the dress code list, it big bold letters are these words: NO PAJAMAS. I smile every time I look at it, knowing that I had left my mark on Franklin Elementary.
Even though I never succeeded in my protest for shorts, I did something that made me feel important. My uprising showed me that I can do big things with the help of my friends.