I hate being in doubt. I mean, does anyone really like it? I suppose not. I find comfort in things being black-and-white, right-and-wrong. People are either good or bad. My job as the principal of my school involves looking out for the wellbeing of my students, but some days it's difficult to work with them. It's even more difficult to work with parents.

I faintly hear a knock on the door of my office through my earplugs. As I pull one out, I rush to the door to let the knocker in. I open the door to see a well-dressed African American woman of about thirty-eight: a parent of one of my students. I called her in to discuss my concerns about her son. After I sit down behind my desk and invite her to sit in a chair opposite, I asserted my suspicions that the Priest of the parish may have assaulted her son. Her reaction made no sense to me; she didn't seem fazed. I explained that I had serious reason to believe that this was the truth, but she saw the Priest as someone helping her son. She left my office declaring that she will always be on her son's side; and by extension, the Priest's side. I hate these kinds of responsibilities because I'm looking out for my students by they don't seem to want to be protected at times.