In Church School Blues, there is a definite caste system, which the narrator secretly names and defines. The three castes are the Dodos, the So-So's, and the Solos. Elder Hargis, the teacher, uses the caste system to his advantage with his seating chart.
From Church School Blues:
"The main requirement for a kid to be a Dodo is to be bored to meanness. This type of kid craves excitement. Obviously they have never lived in a Roach Ranch next door to Catholics, kleptomaniacs and tomato-throwing boozers. Not to mention they've not come here from the Green Swamp where they would have known all sorts of unusual things and amazing people, most of whom Mother doesn't want me to mention to anyone since it would give the impression that we came from the back woods. The Dodos have lived pretty ordinary lives in comparison, as far as I can tell. The only way they get any thrills is by bullying the Solos.
The kids in between the Solos and the Dodos are in the caste I call the So-Sos. The main requirement to be a So-So is to naturally blend in with your environment so that you don't stand out as prey. Think white rabbit in snow, think turtle among rocks, and you'll get the picture. The So-Sos are good students, and usually polite to everybody. They aren't bored to meanness because they often have talents and hobbies (which they don't flaunt so that nobody notices too much.) The only time they act mean is when they laugh along with the Dodos at the Solos. They can't really help that. It's part of their camouflage.
Then there are the Solos. I have pondered at length what makes a kid a Solo instead of a So-So. (It isn't hard to figure out why someone isn't a Dodo, but it isn't always so apparent how a person fell down so far that they became a Solo.).
There are four of us Solo kids....
...Since Elder Hargis is the principal of our school as well as the seventh and eighth grade teacher, you'd think he'd know how to handle eight students. Yes, I said eight. The other nine of us don't need handling, but the Dodos can hardly sit still in between recess breaks. Sometimes I suspect Elder Hargis is afraid of the Dodos, but that can't be the simple truth or they'd have devoured him by now like a Solo. I think that the truth is not simple in this case, and that the non-simple truth is that Elder Hargis is bored to meanness just like the Dodos. But don't take my word for it. Let me give some examples.
Here's how he has handled the problem of the Dodos talking through class. Instead of giving out some teacherly punishment—like having to stay after school or write 100 times on the board, I will not talk out of order—Elder Hargis has resorted to strategy.
His strategy is a seating chart.
He has strategically placed each Solo kid so that they form a barrier separating the Dodos so they can't put their heads together and carry on a class-long conversation with each other. But you know what that means, right? Each Solo kid is completely surrounded by Dodos, which I assure you is not a pleasant position to be in if you're a Solo.
The seating chart is an example of why I say that Elder Hargis has a mean streak. He doesn't care that the Solos are tormented in his seating arrangement, as long as it keeps the overall noise level down. Since conversations between Dodos and Solos tend to be one-sided, you can see why the noise is less."
Ever seen or experienced a seating chart like Elder Hargis's Seating Chart?
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