Students chatting loudly is a familiar sound in the Commons after school. Another routine sound is the ringing of Mr. Jamel Willams’ voice as he calls out to students to get off the tables, but recently, the math, drumline teacher, and Student Commons after-school supervisor Mr. Williams’ rule has apparently quieted. A Merchant reporter heard rumors of Mr. Williams feeling a little down and internally debating his role as the rule enforcer. The reporter decided to follow up with him late last Thursday. 

The Merchant:  So, Mr. Williams, I’ve heard you’ve been having some thoughts about students disobeying the rules and sitting where they like? 

Mr. Williams:  Yes. It’s been on my mind for a while now because, well, what’s really the point of disallowing students from sitting on tables? 

The Merchant:  I’m not sure myself, sir. 

Williams:  Exactly my point. What’s the harm in letting them sit where they want to? It seems like a good thing, you know, to keep them in line. But is that limiting them? What if they’re expressing themselves through that? If the freshmen don’t have to attend football practice, do I really have the right to force them to not sit on the tables? Am I stunting their development as individuals? 

The Merchant:  So you’d say these feelings come from you not feeling comfortable with the responsibility? 

Williams: Not that, exactly. But day after day I need to yell at them, ‘Young man, get off the table please,’ or ‘Young man, please sit down on the bench.’ It just becomes tiresome. I come in here, grade some papers, and then want to relax. Sure, I get to play Slipknot and watch Demon Slayer, but it’s boring. But looking at these young people, seeing them breaking the mold and trying something new? It leaves me conflicted, if not inspired. When I see them challenging authority like that, it makes me want to step up and ask the administrators to get the lock fixed for that door. 

Williams: [looks over at a Mount Carmel student waiting outside the locked Commons door, and motions for a student to go open it for them]

Williams: [sighs] It’s rejuvenating. But then I remember that they aren’t supposed to be doing that, and I’m forced to correct them.  

The Merchant:  You find their drive impressive? 

Williams:  Very. I used to play baseball and softball in high school, but I never really kept up with it, which I look back on a little sadly. The one thing I really do pride myself on is playing the drums. That’s my creative outlet, and I think that might be exactly what these kids are doing by disobeying the rules. They want to rebel, and not be a part of the system, you know? And is it my duty to just stand by and let that happen? Or should I be fostering them and making them grow? I think I should be letting them take charge of their own future, and if that means sitting by as they relax on top of the tables they eat on, maybe I’m all for it. 

The Merchant:  Asking them to conform to something is dangerous, in your opinion? 

Williams: [adjusting his mask at this point, coughing into his arm] Well… rules are there for a reason, right? But to quote Anton Chigurh from No Country for Old Men, 'If the rule you followed led you to this, then what good is the rule?' Being able to see how to best make yourself into a better person is more important. Mathematicians didn’t discover new theorems because they did what had been done before; they did it by changing their own methods. Conforming? Dang, man, you really got me. Conforming is important in some areas, but if it’s controlling every aspect of your life, are you really living? I think these kids will feel more alive if they get to sit on these tables, their restless spirits filled with some form of joy and excitement. 

The Merchant:  Well, that’s all I had for you today, Mr. Williams. Thank you very much for your time. 

Williams:  No problem, young man.  

After this, Mr. Williams turned around and started finishing his 12th rewatch of Attack on Titan, opting to ignore the juniors relaxing on top of one of the tables. Reportedly, a student put his hood up, and Mr. Williams looked at him intensely, but said nothing.