PTA Meetings, Music, and Politics

"Remind me why I'm doing this again?" Beca asked, throwing a black blazer over her lace-lined silk camisole and jeans. She slipped into her black boots and walked into the bathroom to retouch her simple makeup.

"Because you love me," Chloe said, her voice nasally and pitiful. "And you know this is important to me. And to your daughters."

Beca sighed loudly as she reapplied lipstick and touched up her powder and mascara. She stepped back into the bedroom and looked sympathetically at her wife. "You know, that if you were not pathetically sick, I would not be doing this, yes?"

"I know," Chloe said. It sounded more like "I dough," but Beca got the idea.

"Wouldn't I be a better wife if I stayed home and took care of you?" She suggested.

"Nice try," Chloe said. "I'm going to sleep. Go, leave me alone." Beca walked toward the bed and Chloe put a pillow in front of her face. "Do not kiss me! I'm gross and you'll get sick."

Beca chuckled. "Babe, if I'm going to get sick, I already am."

"I'm still gross."

"You're never gross," Beca objected. She worked around the pillow to drop a kiss on Chloe's fevered brow. "Do you need anything before I go?"

"No," she said.

"Okay. Annie is downstairs if you need anything. Love you."

"Love you too."

Beca jogged down the back stairs and found the nanny in the kitchen, finishing dinner. Her daughters were at the table, waiting patiently. "Are you leaving?" Bella asked, eyes already wetting with tears. She's had a rough day for a nine-year-old. She'd barely seen her Mama – and now she was leaving.

"Sorry, love. I promised your mom I would go to a meeting for her. She's not feeling very good. But I'll come and say goodnight when I get home." Bella didn't cry – but the unfallen tears magnified her blue orbs. Beca hugged her from behind and pressed a kiss to her temple. "How about this?" She said softly in her daughter's ear, "I'll pick you up from school tomorrow and we'll have all afternoon."

"Just me?"

"Just you."

"Okay."

"Do I get a day too?" Poppy asked, clearly having heard.

"Of course, you do," Beca said. "We'll pick one out on the calendar tomorrow night. And you too," she said, eyeing Vera before she could speak. Vera smiled brightly. Beca kissed and hugged them all. "Be good for Annie. I love you."

"Love you too!" Beca turned back and accepted the travel mug and container of nuts and cheese and veggies that Annie handed to her. "You are amazing. Thank you. Can you check on Chloe at some point?"

"Sure thing," Annie said. "Have fun."

"Oh, I really doubt it," Beca told her dryly. "Call me if you need anything. Seriously, you'd be rescuing me." Annie grinned as she watched the older woman pick up her bag and her keys and leave through the back door.

When Beca arrived at the school her daughters attended, she pulled in next to Jesse's SUV. As promised, he was waiting for her. "You know," he said, getting out once she did. His smile was amused. "This isn't high school. You can enter that room alone."

"No I can't," Beca assured him. "Have you seen me with other parents? They hate me."

"They don't hate you. They are intimidated by you. These people are rich, but most aren't famous. And definitely not talented. And most are not as rich as you. I guarantee they are jealous that your earrings cost more than their cars." Beca reached up to touch her lobes, making a face of consideration when she realized she was wearing the little hoop Cartier trinity earrings Chloe had gotten her the Christmas before.

"Still. It's weird. It's like the room goes silent when I walk in."

"You're famous. You have Grammys."

"You have Grammys," she shot back as they approached the door. He held it for her and they entered the beautiful building, both grandiose in architecture and adorable in colorful decoration befitting an elementary school.

"But everyone knows that you have them," Jesse said with a laugh. "I get mine during the commercial breaks." She let out a huff.

"What the fuck is this meeting about, anyway?" She muttered. They followed signs to one of the larger group instruction rooms. There had been an email with an agenda and she been meaning to read it, but the day had escaped her.

"Standardized testing and the music department. There are complaints."

"Why?" She asked. She was officially offended. Both she and Jesse had been on the hiring committee who had chosen the head of the music department three years before. She was phenomenal. Beca and Chloe still took her to breakfast or dinner a few times a year to see how things were going and stay in touch.

He shrugged. "We're about to find out." He opened the door for her and she walked into the room where the meeting was being held. Parents were strewn about – some at the refreshment table, some at the front, some sitting down. All talking in their little gaggles. As expected, the noise stopped when Beca entered. She looked at Jesse, who shrugged and grinned at her. He threw his arm around her shoulder, which did make her feel slightly better. Even more so when she saw how scandalized one of the other mothers looked. For goodness' sake, she was gay. Famously so. But, gossips will be gossips. She woman looked away when Beca stared.

One of the women from the front of the room crossed to meet them. The lower school headmistress. "Mrs. Mitchell. Mr. Swanson. I'm glad you could join us."

Beca smiled. She liked the woman who ran the lower school. "Hi Katie. We've told you before, you can call us Beca and Jesse."

"That's unwise when the entire board is in session. They don't approve."

"That's very stuffy of them."

The woman rolled her eyes, which made Beca like her more. "May I show you something the girls were working on this week?"

"Sure," Beca said, following her into the hall. She dragged Jesse with her. They walked down the brightly decorated hall and Katie Stern began speaking in a hushed tone.

"There is a group of parents who are trying to railroad the music director from her position. One of them has someone they want to get into the position. But it needs to be open first."

"I don't play those games," Beca said.

"No way," Jesse agreed.

"I was hoping you would say that. Anything you can do to redirect the conversation would be most appreciated. I'm hoping we can stop the conversation at this meeting." She did show Beca one of the art projects Poppy and Bella had worked on. The mother took a few pictures and all three of them walked back into the room.

The meeting was called to order ten minutes later, to Beca's chagrin. All the chairs were filled – but she was happier sitting in the back of the room on a table beside Jesse. She sat cross legged, trying not to fidget. She was an adult, she could sit still through a boring, annoying meeting. The president was standing at the front of the room, welcoming everyone with a sappy, over-sweet demeanor that reminded Beca of Aubrey. Not the good Aubrey.

The beginning of the meeting was approving the minutes from the last one, going over fundraising totals, and other things that warranted little conversation.

Once new business was brought up, one of the parents suggesting focusing more on standardized testing. This was why Chloe had wanted to attend this meeting. They had chosen this school particularly because they did not use standardized testing, and therefore did not teach to it. When Beca realized that several of the parents were agreeing with her in the open comment portion, she groaned to herself.

"I really don't want to have to say something," she muttered to Jesse.

"Sounds like they're going to pass it if you don't," Jesse whispered.

"Are you guys really serious?" Beca asked, sighing "These kids are under enough pressure as it is. We send them here to get an education, not to be taught to a test. If you want your kid to learn how to take standardized tests, there are tutors for that. But it's not what they should be focusing on in the classroom."

"They're not testing as well as they should when they test individually for Ivy feeder schools," another mother said.

Beca's expression grew pinched. "A, this is an Ivy feeder school. B, are Ivys really still looking at test scores? C, is that really the most important thing? Why add more stress to the kids and the teachers when they should be focused on actual educational topics – or – gasp – maybe even having a little bit of fun." She made a face as she said the last part mockingly. Several parents throughout the room found it funny and there was a smattering of laughter and giggles.

"Colleges expect high scores –"

"They're twelve and under," Beca said. "There's a bit more time to worry about college."

"Not everyone has as much money to fall back on as you might. These scores are important."

"Cut it out, Cybil. No one who can afford to send their kids to this school has the need to be this worried about test scores in elementary school."

"I agree," Another man said. "If I wanted to argue about standardized testing, I'd send my kid to public school. I move we dismiss the idea of adding standardized testing to the curriculum at any level."

"Second," Beca said.

"All in favor?" The president asked. It was a ¾ majority against the testing, but that other quarter didn't look happy.

Beca leaned closer to Jesse. "I don't think I made any friends."

"You made your wife happy. That'll last longer." She smiled.

Beca's butt was falling asleep – and she was considering pulling her hair out just for fun – when the music department director finally came up. It was brought up at the end of the meeting.

"I have a concern," a woman said, in a nasal voice that grated on Beca's nerves. "My daughter is very interested in a career in music – composition, instrumental, who's to know at this point?"

"Because she's eight," Beca mumbled.

"But my concern is that she's not being challenged by the music curriculum. I don't believe our music department director is doing justice for our school."

"I agree. I don't feel that the children are being taught at a high enough level," another mother said. "My Emily has been taking piano lessons for years – there's nothing new that Ms. Halverson has been able to teach her."

"My kids have been able to read music since kindergarten," Beca sniped. "And they love music class. The curriculum here for music is better than some schools that are specifically focused on the performing arts."

"You're a little biased," the first woman said, "didn't you have a hand in hiring Ms. Halverson?"

"Along with a full, highly qualified committee," Beca agreed.

"And what gives you the authority to make those types of decisions for the whole school?"

Beca looked at her, dumbfounded. "Do you seriously want me to answer that question?"

"We have a process in place to hire staff," the president said, stopping the budding argument. "And Ms. Halverson was hired appropriately. Dr. Stern, does she have any notes of concern from parents, administration, or students in her file?"

"None," the woman answered.

"Then, I don't believe we have much left to discuss," the president said.

"I believe due process is in order," the original woman said. "I move we convene a committee to investigate the music department."

"Investigate?" Beca cried. "Lady, this is a school, not a murder scene."

"That does seem like a tad bit of overkill," Jesse agreed.

"I'll second the motion," her friend said, ignoring their outrage.

There were many, many voices speaking out against it, but there were just enough votes to eek through a charge to create the committee. Beca pinched the bridge of her nose as the president talked about forming the committee. Stress was radiating from her. She hated when people did things like this – pushed their weight around for stupid reasons.

"Mrs. Mitchell?" It wasn't until Jesse elbowed her that Beca realized she was being spoken to. She looked up to find the president – and most of the room – looking at her.

"Yes?" She asked.

"Will you serve as co-chair of the committee?" Beca gave her a great bitch face, but paused and realized that she was being given a chance to stop this from happening. Albeit, a very unpleasant chance. She would have to place nice with people she really didn't want to spend any time with at all. "Mrs. Mitchell?"

"Fine," Beca said, finally. "Only if Swanson is on the committee," she said, pointing at Jesse.

"Coming as a package deal since 2012," Jesse said, offering a silly smile.

"As co-chair, you can help build the committee with whatever members you feel necessary." The meeting ended quickly after that and Beca stood up next to Jesse.

"Jesus Fucking Christ," she muttered very softly. She raised her voice so Jesse could hear. "How did I get myself chairing a committee?"

"Co-chairing," Jesse reminded her, "with our very good friend Karen."

"Shut up," Beca responded. The woman was glaring at her from across the room. This was going to a be a long few weeks. But now it was personal – and Beca was certainly not going to allow that music teacher to lose her job because this woman knew someone who wanted it. She did not play those games.

Chloe did not sympathize with Beca's distress at finding herself on a school committee. Instead, she found it hilarious. She had to sit up in bed, lest she choke due to laughing and coughing at the same time.

"I'm glad you find this so amusing, Chloe. These people are horrible. I might have to go back to therapy just from dealing with them."

"Oh, honey. It won't be that bad. You did the right thing."

"Can you do it for me? Please?"

"No," Chloe responded. "You volunteered."

"It was more like I didn't have a choice."

"And I respect that," Chloe responded. "But this is your battle. And I can't stand Millicent Green."

"Is that Karens name?" Beca huffed

Chloe laughed. "You know her name. You yelled at her during a fundraiser in preschool." That did ring a bell suddenly.

"No," Beca responded. "I spoke firmly to her because she was being a bitch to other people. It's not my fault it made her cry." Chloe laughed again.

"Oh, this is going to be a fun few weeks. "Please, please tell me these meetings are going to be recorded."

"Shush, you," Beca said. But Chloe did not. And continued laughing for weeks afterward when the committee was mentioned. After two months of meetings, fact-finding, and presenting to the entire bored, the teachers job was saved. Beca might have been slightly traumatized because of the meetings, but she wasn't going down alone. Millicent Green never again suggested a committee for anything Beca Mitchell argued against. In fact, the two women never looked at one another again - and they were just fine with that.