Student for a Day

By Joel Stein

It wasn't particularly big, but I still couldn't imagine pulling off being Principal for a Day with this pimple on my chin. No one is going to accept detention from Principal Zit. Nevertheless, I had already agreed to be part of this program to raise awareness about public schools, so I set off to accomplish the two things I've wanted to do since I was 15: find out what teachers talk about in the faculty lounge and commandeer the p.a. system. I was going to use my light-rock deejay voice and keep repeating that principal has the word pal in it until everyone got really creeped out. I was planning on being Principal for Half a Day.

But it turns out I wasn't actually principal at all. The real principal of the High School for Arts and Business in Queens, N.Y., Stephen Drakes, was there at 8 a.m., and he wasn't letting me near the p.a. Instead, he gave me a schedule of classes that he wanted me to visit. Because I hadn't been up at 8 a.m. since Katie Couric's colon was IMAXed on the Today show, it took me a while to realize I had been sent back to high school.

My staying-awake problem wasn't aided by the fact that the High School for Arts and Business has no windows--it being, until four years ago, a bowling alley. This was the explanation Principal Drakes gave. I knew from my own high school experiences not to pursue the logical but detention-inducing "Why don't bowling alleys have windows? Were there, maybe, strippers at this 'bowling alley'?"

Though I had remembered much about high school, I had forgotten how mind-numbingly boring it was. I wasn't able to sit through one non-lunch class. And it wasn't helping that my fellow students weren't the rowdy kids I was hoping for. Not one ran in the halls, screamed or attempted to escape through the wide-open cafeteria door. That is, besides me.

In the Virtual Business class, where all the students wore white button-down shirts, I was greeted at the door by an "executive assistant" who asked me to sign her guest book. Her CEO, "Ms. Moronta," handed me her business card and led me through a PowerPoint demonstration of her virtual DVD business. Clocks showed the times in New York City, Tokyo, Bakersfield, Calif., and Nuremberg, Germany. I have never been so frightened in my life.

It turns out most of the other Principals for a Day were famous, like Diane Sawyer and Jerry Seinfeld, so I think the kids and teachers were disappointed they got me. At one point the librarian asked me if I ever got bylines in TIME. I dug several issues out of her shelves and pointed to my articles ("If not for me, people would think Sisqo wears a thong"). She responded by asking me to sign a copy. Now I don't have much experience with autographs, but I'm pretty sure you don't normally sign them right after someone demands your resume.

I left the school impressed but glad I didn't have to go every day. Even a school run by one of the most liked and dedicated principals in the country can't overcome the basic problem with public education: it takes place in a government institution. Imagine spending 13 years at a DMV studying for the written test. Now imagine doing it as a virgin. No principal can make that O.K.