It takes just under three dozen adults to keep ASA running: three administrators; thirteen faculty; one school nurse (daytime only); twelve staff in cafeteria, maintenance, and housekeeping; and a pair of deans for each dorm. For as long as I can remember, at least twenty-eight of those thirty-one people have been white. And not white Latinx but white-white. Even as the student body has gotten more diverse, the faculty pages of the Intrepid, our yearbook, remain a sea of clouds. Ms. Silverthorn has been an exception since my mom was here. This year, the only nonwhite staff are her, Mrs. Somboon-Fox, and Mr. Kurunchabi. Mr. Kurunchabi started last fall, just months after Mr. Ramirez retired as if some great constant prohibits the ratio from ever changing.

Ms. Silverthorn is a pretty great constant herself. All the kids of color flock to her because she gets it. So do the queer kids. She knows what it is to be the Other in the room. (You should hear her break down microaggressions—my god, it’s amazing.) The drama kids also love her, as does the whole #Resist crowd, and really the only people who don’t are the ones who hate English class in general. Her room is full after school, with kids getting support or just hanging out, and she has to shoo people away to get to the arts building for the drama club meetings. She writes, like, fifty recommendations a year.

I stan for Ms. Silverthorn because I’m a double-dipper: gay and Latinx. (Though she is first to remind me of the privilege of having light skin, especially when I’m on my high horse about something, which is, like, all the time.) I’ve spent so much time at her house with drama kids that I have a favorite mug there, and everyone knows my spot is the corner seat on the sectional. If I am going to get sympathy from anyone but Nix, it will be Silverthorn. After thirty-six years here, her outrage meter is probably long broken, but she continually pushes the school forward more than anyone else ever does, so a plan is forming in the back of my mind.

I know the board loves her, and they can’t afford to fire her—they’d never hear the end of it. So all I have to do is get her on my side with the prom plan and have her push it with Mrs. Somboon-Fox. If she’s for it, even more kids will be—and it won’t take some ugly picket line. Maybe that’ll give Kurunchabi permission to stop being so coy about his sexuality—I mean, I read him instantly. And then what? It would be a bad look for the school that’s been selling diversity for years now to shut down two of three faculty of color (and piss off all their loyal followers).