Oh yes, the past can hurt. But the way I see it, you can either run from it, or learn from it.
- Rafiki, in The Lion King

I’ve received several interesting emails over the past few days from various people with different interests in the case of Avery Doninger, the 16 year old class secretary who was forced out of office and forbidden to run for re-election because of derogatory comments she had made online about the school administration. If I were to find a single theme from them, it would be Rafiki’s quote from the Lion King.

A noted Connecticut journalist wrote me saying,

I'm afraid that school administrators are, by definition, impossibly stupid and officious. This kind of gratuitous censorship and bullying happens all the time almost everywhere and has been happening since before I was in high school. Indeed, I went through a smaller incident of it myself and would pay a thousand dollars to be able to go back in time and tell the vice principal that he could go screw himself because I'd see him in court.

I’ve known many officious school administrators in my time, some of which I wished I could go back and confront.

Ah, but I was so much older then,
I'm younger than that now.
- Bob Dylan, My Back Pages

Yet I’ve also known many great school administrators whose love of learning and desire to impart that love of learning has been wonderful to behold.

Avery’s mother wrote me a wonderful note which included this:

As I reflect on the lessons for Avery (and me) they seem endless. One of the important lessons is about recognizing and owning mistakes. As soon as it became clear that the administrators were digging their heels in, I told Avery about a time at work a few years ago where I really botched things up. I was over extended and allowed a student intern to leave an internship without doing adequate follow up and investigation. The site supervisor called and went up one side of me and down the other. As I listened I realized that she was completely right and that I had over reacted and gotten things quite wrong. As soon as I took responsibility and began to look for ways to rectify my error the entire conversation changed. I told the students that I made an error and how I was going to remediate the problem. It was embarrassing, of course, but in the end so much more productive than trying to cover up, make excuses, or blame others. Similarly, I have wanted Avery to be clear that I am unimpressed with her discourse and language - she can and must do better. At least she took responsibility for her error (on TV, in print, in a hand written apology). So much of this now seems that the administrators just couldn't acknowledge that perhaps they over reacted and certainly they over reached.

The lessons of this case aren’t just for Avery and her mother. They are for all of us. There is the key lesson, in my opinion, about defending democracy wherever we find it threatened, in standing up for key rights like freedom of speech.

There are the lessons of knowing when to dig in your heels and stand your ground, and when to apologize and make reparations. Avery and her mother have done us a great service by sharing some of these lessons with all of us. I cannot imagine it has been easy on them and I hope, for all of our sakes, that we can move on to the next lessons we have in store for us.

You see, I think the journalist was partly right. Gratuitous bullying and censorship does happen all the time, and we need stand up to it. To be able to stand up to it, we must admit our own faults, look for the teachable moments, and move on.