“It’s a clear violation of church and state.” To say that my high school, Lebanon High School (LHS), was slightly socially liberal would be the understatement of the century. The school seemed to be plagued with one controversy after another. The controversies have been so high-profile that they have even appeared as the feature story of shows such as The Tyra Banks Show and The Tonight Show with Jay Leno. I found myself in the midst of the latest controversy during my senior year of high school.
Since the founding of my school, holding an invocation during graduation had been a celebrated tradition. However, in more recent years, public prayer was completely and utterly banned from the school. For my entire high school career I was voted as class president, and I had the privilege of being the representative of my class as a collective unit.
Let’s not be mistaken, Lebanon was a fantastic place to grow up. It was one of those suburbs that you could walk down the street at night by yourself and feel comfortable, leave your front door unlocked, and everyone you came in contact with at the supermarket asked not only you were doing, but you entire family as well- regardless whether you knew them or not. After all, we weren’t known as “The Friendly City” for nothing. Not only did I adore Lebanon, but I loved the school even though I did not agree with their political/social standings. The people at the school weren’t bad people by any means, in my opinion, they were just a little misdirected. LHS had one fear and that one fear was lawsuit. They took every preventative measure possible to avoid such a dreaded occurrence. They were like scared little children cowering in the corner waiting for some make-believe father to come and lash them with his make-believe belt.
As President of my senior class one, I was in charge of graduation. Because of the school’s extreme terror, anyone who went against the school’s wishes would be in a world of trouble (and in my situation, possibly have my diploma revoked). Yet, here I was having to represent myself, my class, …and my God. So, here I was faced with the decision: to pray or not to pray, that was the question.
“Guys…I want to have a prayer at Graduation, “ I announced to my class counsel members. “We’re right behind you, so do we,” they replied. We knew that we were going to have to be sneaky about the whole process because legally, no teacher was allowed to know of our intentions. The counsel and I came up with a plan; we knew that we were okay with the prayer, but we wanted to make sure that the rest of our class of 300 was as well. We constructed a list of the names of people from out class that we new were the openly against religion. It took awhile, but like private investigators we individually pulled each person on the list aside and asked them how they felt. To our surprise, most were pleasantly receptive to the idea, with one exception…Diana. I was the lucky person to have pleasure of speaking with Diana who seemed alright with the matter…at the time.
“Amanda, I need to talk to you,” came the booming voice of the teacher who was senior class advisor and stood an intimidating 6’2 feet tall and weighed probably five times more than me. He went on, “I was told that a young woman in your class came confronted the administration. She voiced her concern about a prayer that is apparently to be held during graduation. She told administration that if this is true she is going to stand up right in the middle of commencement and walk-out. I assured her that there is not a benediction on the schedule, but there is a Class President’s message.” THAT WAS IT! That was my ticket! “Hmm yeah…that’s odd,” I just managed to stammer out as I pretended to get distracted by something shiny and run off in the opposite direction.
The counsel and I got in a huddle later that day and decided what we should do about Diana. “It’s 299 against 1. I’m sorry, but she’s going to have to deal and understand that the rest of the class wants this. We’re just offering a prayer, we’re not grabbing her and forcing her to be baptized,” said one of the class counsel members. Upon that statement, we decided to proceed.
Practice, practice, practice. It’s been a tradition from the start of our school that during graduation we hold a candelabrum ceremony. Each class counsel member receives a taper (seven total) that is supposed to embody a characteristic that can be found within each member of our class. The ceremony is taken EXTREMELY seriously, and we are required to memorize and recite material from the early 1900’s. As we ran through the whole graduation ceremony in its entirety (leaving out our secret surprise of course) members of the administration watched like hawks waiting for a fresh kill. Absolutely no mistakes. If we messed up we had to start all the way over, even our strides lengths had to be the same as we practiced entering the gymnasium. Little did they know that what they were seeing was not exactly what they were going to get.
Finally, the day my class and I had been waiting for was here- Graduation! As I thought about all of my responsibilities, my life ahead of me, and what I was about to do I began to be overwhelmed. The life I once knew so well would be in my past and an uncertain future lay ahead. My family from all over the country flew into town because they knew that I was going to be giving a speech (or so they thought). Before the ceremony my family decided to go to a local Chinese restaurant. The waiter set the steaming plate in front of me and the smell of sweet orange chicken wafted to my nose…I wanted to get sick. How was I expected to eat at a time like this? I finally managed to sip some water before I rushed out the door to the school.
I arrived at the school and the rest was a blur. I was so nervous and I could have blacked out, but the next thing I knew I was sitting on a stage in front of thousands of people staring down on my. The counsel and I rose and begin the Candelabrum Ceremony which we finished without any problems. In the flash the valedictorian and salutatorian had been given their speeches and diplomas were handed out. There was a dead silence, I was up. This was it; it was now or never. My heart raced like a freight train and my palms were seeping a liquid amount comparable to that of Lake Michigan. However, suddenly I was beginning to gain confidence. This is my duty, I thought. I slowly rose from the chair and strode to the microphone.
“Please join me in a moment of silence to reflect on our experiences tonight and throughout high school. Following the moment of silence, I will be offering a prayer if you would be willing to participate.” The moment of silence seemed like it lasted literally a moment. “Now, if you would, please bow with me.” I wasn’t sure what to address in my benediction, but Heavenly Father knew what he wanted me to say. It felt as if the Spirit were literally speaking for me; my vocal chords were producing the sound, but they were not my words. I muttered an “amen”, and lifted my head to see what damage I had just created, and to view the madhouse of people that would assuredly start throwing stones at me. I was shocked when the entire gymnasium broke out in ear-splitting applause, some even rose to their feet. My eyes began to water as I croaked out closing sentiment to my class. I walked, terrified, back to my seat on the stand which ironically happened to be RIGHT next to the Super Intendant. Sure that he was going to take my diploma and kick me out of the building, I readied myself. I turned my head ever so slightly to look at him. He was starring right into my soul, I was done for. Then to my surprise a slight smile began to form in the corner of his mouth and he nodded reassuringly.
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