The Great Bathroom Battle of South High

At the start of my teaching journey, I quickly realized the necessity of conditioning my bladder to match the four-minute intervals between classes. At South High, reaching the private staff restrooms required hurrying down two lengthy corridors. When both of those restrooms were full and a long line had formed, I had no choice but to use the crowded and frequently filthy student facilities.

One year, the South High School English department decided to make both private staff restrooms on the second-floor gender neutral. Without organizing a meeting or seeking permission, we simply started using whichever restroom was free. This arrangement went smoothly until Chuck, one of our security guards, discovered what he saw as a shocking betrayal and launched a campaign against our system.

His initial tactic to deter us involved vandalizing the men's bathroom so that "delicate females" would be reluctant to enter. Upon opening the door, I noticed newspapers scattered on the floor. Finding his childish prank amusing, I quietly collected the litter and disposed of it before taking care of business. When this mild mess didn’t stop us, Chuck urinated on the toilet seat and splashed soapy water over the sink. Committed to asserting our right to use any available restroom, we cleaned up with the supplies at hand and proceeded to use the facilities. When the bathroom sabotage failed to deter us, Chuck angrily placed a homemade sign on the door stating, “Men Only! No Women Allowed.” Far from intimidating us, this only fueled our resolve to continue using both restrooms, marking the beginning of our legendary confrontation.

Chuck's determined attempts to bar women from using the men’s restroom quickly spread throughout the school. When his quickly drawn signs proved ineffective, he escalated the matter by stationing “security patrols” nearby, who cast judgmental glances our way. We, however, just smiled at them and entered whichever restroom was free. Next, he tried to declare the restroom “out of order” in an effort to compel us to comply. Recognizing this as a mere ruse, we continued to use the facilities regardless. Finally, he attempted to declare the restroom “out of order” in hopes of forcing our compliance. We saw through this ploy and used the lavatory anyway. No tactic was too trivial or ridiculous for him, but despite all his maneuvers, we stayed undeterred, laughing at his antics and confidently continuing to use the facilities. In truth, his resistance only underscored the importance of challenging outdated conventions and fighting for inclusiveness.

In the end, I took matters into my own hands by altering the signs above the bathroom doors. Using wide masking tape, I boldly wrote “HU” on the tape before striding boldly toward the restrooms with a sturdy chair in hand. Climbing onto the chair, I transformed the “WOMEN” and “MEN” signs into the unified word “HUMEN” above both doors. Satisfied with my clever workaround, I dragged the chair back to the English office and waited eagerly to see how Chuck would react.

The next morning, the entire school buzzed with whispers and chuckles as word of the “HUMEN” signs spread like wildfire. Chuck stormed down the corridor, eyes narrowing as he reached the doors, only to stop dead in his tracks. For a moment, he just stared, then let out an exasperated sigh that somehow had the air of reluctant defeat. Realizing his efforts were met with humor and solidarity rather than fear, he muttered something under his breath and retreated.

With the tension diffused and the restrooms firmly reclaimed as shared spaces, the “HUMEN” signs stood proudly above the doors for the remainder of the school year, a cheeky testament to the power of creativity and camaraderie in the face of unnecessary opposition. From that day onward, no prank or notice could undermine the assurance of the staff as we adopted a more inclusive and pragmatic approach, demonstrating that sometimes, subtle intelligence is more effective than overt obstinacy.