#022 - Joel Estelle

 I was kicked out of the Oaks, but not for the reason you may think. 

 There were some abnormalities with the school that I ignored, and seeing the posts on this blog, I wish I had not. I know that there are plenty of ways this school has negatively affected me, things that became ingrained in my mind that I still struggle to remove myself from; male superiority, looking down on those who are not believers, blind support of authority, to name a few, but my story is going to center on the actions of one man. Bruce Williams, the principal of the school during my time there. 

Let’s start with some context. I would’ve graduated with the class of 2012, and I started at the Oaks from 1st grade to 9th grade. I was always a timid, quiet personality with an urge for being a people pleaser and I would flee from conflict. I cried easily and I was afraid that no one would like me if I said the wrong thing or didn’t agree with them, hence why I was so quiet and always agreeable. During the years of my upbringing here, I did make some friends and made some great memories there. I loved being in the choir class, because it was one of the only places I felt I could use my voice and shout at the top of my lungs. I grew up being taught to always respect those who are older, more experienced and therefore, more wise than I was. Christian adults were the ones we were supposed to look to as an example of what I was to grow into, but Bruce taught me that is not true. 

During my freshman year, I began looking into the program “Running start” which is a state program designed to allow high schoolers to gain some college credits by taking courses at community colleges, but the program starts with junior year of high school. It seemed like a great opportunity to get ahead and maybe shorten my time and save on tuition. That same year, my brother decided to go to Sacagawea middle school. My parents sent a letter to the school informing the faculty that my brother would not be attending the Oaks next year, and happened to mention that I may be leaving the following year, my dad asked if that was ok to include in the letter and I approved. 

 Weeks later, my dad took me out to Manito park and sat me down with an opened envelope, and read me the cutting words that sent me into a spiral of confusion, then later anger, as I write this I can feel my emotions spinning. I don’t recall the exact words in the letter, but let me sum it up for you: “You’re not leaving next year, you’re leaving this year. Signed Bruce Williams”, with some made up excuse as to why they don’t have room for me in their class next year, we weren’t even the largest class at the time. I immediately thought of what I had done wrong, why was this man rejecting me? Should I have just said nothing about leaving? Should I have just been quiet? I asked my dad if he could ask Bruce to let me stay one more year. My only friends for 8+ years were at that school and I was scared to go to public school (there’s that bias against non-believers). So he went, then things got worse. 

 My dad scheduled a time to visit Bruce in his office and plead for me to stay despite the obvious slap to the face I had received. After my father had started to get into a heated conversation, Bruce thought he’d try and take control over the situation again, he threatened to not release my grades for my freshman year. Firstly, this is illegal and a petty power grab, but it got my family’s attention. This is where the anger started. Then I had to do something unbearable, be silent. Be a good little boy we trained you to be and don’t talk about the shit under the rug, or we’ll take away your freshman year. I spent the last 2 or 3 weeks at the Oaks sharing with everyone that I was leaving, and not telling them why. I cried a lot, and I had never, and have never felt disdain for someone like I do Bruce, and this is the reason I only refer him by his first name. He doesn’t deserve the authoritative title of “Mr” in my book. He was portrayed to me as a leader, a “godly” man and someone I am supposed to emulate, but the one thing he did teach me in the end is to only respect those who respect you. I once again spiraled into confusion and more anger, and nearly lost hope and faith in God. 

 If this does end up reaching your eyes, Bruce, thank you for teaching me to learn about someone before blindly respecting them. Thank you for showing me that even good men can have their dark sides behind closed doors. Thank you for kicking me out of the Oaks. I learned that the faithless can be more warm and welcoming than the faithful. Thank you for opening my eyes. It’s hard to see the bubble when you’re inside it. And thank you for showing me the man that I am going to teach my 2 year old son not to be. I still don’t respect you, you obviously don’t respect me.  

 

Signed 

Joel Estelle

 

P.S.

I want to thank those who created this space to openly share our thoughts and opinions on this institution. I didn’t realize how much I needed this until today.