Kerry Lemieux, 1979

A thought experiment

That’s probably Barbarino in the back

I took shop as a sixth-grader in 1979. As a girl, I didn't have to, but I wanted to. Between the burly, meathead teacher and the other kids—all boys, except Sandy, who'd been held back a grade, and was pregnant—the classroom was a sausage fest. There was always a certain bravado in the air.

I wasn't allowed to wear shorts at my school, even though it was barely air-conditioned and often sweltering. Like t-shirts that said “Foxy Lady,” shorts would have been a “distraction” to my pubescent, yet oversexed, male classmates. I resented this, along with the ban on portable radios; though it bears noting that I survived such oppressive school policies.

Kerry “Kayla” Lemieux, the teacher who modeled a set of z-cup prosthetic breasts for his high school shop class, is in the news again. It seems that this fall, Lemieux dropped the girl suit, reporting for class sans silicone and sporting a beard. This prompted parents to wonder if “she” had ever been sincere. Because sincerity, we all know, creates a kind of cloaking device around gigantic rubber hooters, rendering them invisible to nearby children.

I've heard that he may be back at it now—not sure. In any case, the news got me thinking about how much culture has shifted since the seventies. Some things are better now, to be sure. But some things are worse. People of all ages have lost their curiosity, their bravery, their ability to ask questions, to state the obvious, to take a stand.

Here’s what would have happened had Lemieux been my shop teacher.

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Mx. Lemieux enters the classroom wearing a pink blouse, nipples the size of salad plates protruding through its sheer fabric. Twelve boys and two girls shoot glances at one another. Barbarino, a kid who smokes behind the school before class, rises from his seat.

Barbarino: Mr. Lemieux—what the...

Lemieux: It's ma'am.

Barbarino: What?

Lemieux: I'm a woman.

Barbarino: Yeah, and my dad is Santa Claus. What the fuck is up with the knockers?

Lemieux: That language is inappropriate, young man.

Barbarino: You're calling me inappropriate?

The boys laugh. Someone says “hubba hubba,” making pinching gestures in Lemieux’s direction. Sandy looks disgusted.

“Dude,” she says to her teacher. “That is gross.”

Mx. Lemieux, feeling triggered, starts to cry. He runs to principal Johnson's office and flings open the door.

Johnson: Mr. Lemieux—what the...

Lemieux: It's ma'am.

Lindsay, an HR administrator from 2023, parks her time machine behind principal Johnson's office and walks in the door. Johnson knows who she is; she's done this before.

Lindsay: Principal Johnson! I'm here to talk to you about Mx. Lemieux.

Johnson: Yeah, I’m aware of the problem. He's got to go.

Lindsay: She's got to go. I mean—you can't get rid of her.

Johnson: Get rid of who?

Lindsay: Kayla.

Johnson: Damn it, Lindsay, this is no time to worry about Kayla—whoever that is. Can't you see that Kerry Lemieux has come to class wearing giant boobs? He's lost his mind.

Lemieux: I don't need your right-wing propoganda!

Johnson: I voted for Jimmy Carter. What's politics got to do with this?

Mx. Lemieux starts to cry. Feeling unsafe, he runs from the room.

Lindsay: Look, Principal Johnson. Ms. Lemieux identifies as a woman. She feels like she was born in the wrong body. She has taken steps to look like her chosen gender.

Johnson: I've heard of that. Even knew a guy who knew a guy back in San Francisco. But Kerry isn't trying to look like a woman. Women don't have boobs the size of boulders.

Lindsay: Principal Johnson, you can't fire Kerr—Kayla for wearing boo—prosthetic breasts. It's protected under gender identity.

Johnson looks at Lindsay with a mixture of confusion, incredulity and annoyance.

“Then I'll find another reason to fire him.” he says. “Obviously.”

Lindsay: You can't.

Johnson: Lindsay. Surely you're not suggesting we trust him to teach children?

Lindsay: Well, I mean…

Johnson: The fuck is wrong with you?

Johnson sends Lindsay to 2023 to pick up Thai food. While she's away, he calls up his substitute shop teacher and reassigns Lemieux to a job sorting files in the back office. He makes plans to require a psychiatric evaluation for Lemieux. He brainstorms official reasons that can be used for Lemieux's eventual dismissal. And just to be safe—since Lindsay seems to think this gender identity business is going to be a thing—he writes up a new dress code.

Then he calls the parents of every child in the class and apologizes. It won't happen again, he assures them. Mr. Lemieux has been removed from duty.

Mx. Lemieux, meanwhile, runs into a fellow teacher in the hallway.

Branson: Whoa. Kerry. What the—

Lemieux: It's Kayla.

Branson: Look, I don't care who drove you to it, buddy. You need help.

Lemieux: It's my gender—

Branson: I get it. I do. I've got all that kinky stuff in my basement, myself. But you're at work! My daughter goes to school here. You've let this go too far! Let me take you home.