Based on a true story - high school teacher's attempted lesson on fascism gone awry

Whole Earth Review, Summer, 1993 by Ron Jones

Sunlight gleamed behind the entering figures. Eva crowed, "The students are here, the children have arrived, we can begin. I told you they'd be here!" But the people entering the auditorium were only school officials. They stopped at the rim of the auditorium. With them was the grinning clerk from the hotel. The grayest of men spoke first.

"I'm sorry to tell you that the assembly has been canceled; the teaching staff felt --"

"Canceled? The teachers -- I sent them all the materials --"

The principal was accustomed to having the last word. "This material, this idea of yours for a conference, well, it's just too one-sided --"

"Who do you wish we should bring with us -- Dr. Mengele? Is that who you wish to address our children?"

"Mrs. Mozes," the principal stammered, "I told you we would have to have a committee of English teachers evaluate your material, and we concluded it's just too violent; we don't want our children frightened."

"Frightened?" Eva exploded and ran up the aisle toward the startled men. She screamed, "What's frightening is you, and what you have done!" Before they could answer Eva Mozes was pummeling them with windmilling fists. They scattered and dashed out the door to safety.

Eva had hold of the principal. "Where are my children?" she yelled. "Let go of me, you Jew!" he yelped and pulled free. The hotel clerk screamed, from a safe distance, "Go back to where you belong!" Eva chased all of them through the double door and into the school hallway. An alligator loafer was lost in the retreat. Eva's voice could be heard down the hallway. "Come back here! Du bist feige! What are you afraid of? Shmucks!"

Not one of us in the orchestra pit even moved. We stared in amazement at Eva's conviction. Her ability to spring into action. To show these educators for what they were -- cowards at best, racists by choice. Men without conscience or conviction. Men that would have made good Nazis.

Eva majestically returned to the auditorium with two students. One carried the lost loafer. "Don't worry." Eva soothed, "I've just asked these students to join us." One of the students, a big redhead, joked, "She didn't exactly ask!" Eva explained, "I told them this would be the most important event of their life." The girl smiled. "She said she'd break our necks!" "Did I say that? Eva asked innocently as she held up the alligator loafer like a trophy. "I said, I should break their necks for keeping children from this meeting, and throwing away all the books -- 4,000 copies, 128 pages -- they just threw them away!"

"Freddie and I -- my name's Mary Beth Walker -- we were just at my locker standing there when the principal ran past. He looked kinda scared. And then when I was getting out my books she came and grabbed us, sorta."

The presence of the two children filled everyone with purpose. Even Eva seemed content. "The students are here; it's time we started."

I was first to speak. Placing my notes on a music stand, I saw a swastika carved into the wood. I draped my coat over this contemptuous message and knew I could not remove it until Eva was far from its sting. I told the story of The Wave. The Twins recounted their stories of heroism and survival. Finally the conference was finished. We could go home. Or could we?