Without a Country

A few weeks ago, I attended the dance concert at Oaks Christian—where I work—on the same night, it turned out, as a group of young female teachers who happen to be friends of mine as well as colleagues. There had been a cursory discussion between myself and a couple of the teachers about going to dinner beforehand. So, the afternoon before the performance, I sent an email to one of them to see if any dinner plans had crystallized, but received no reply. I then approached the other to see if she had made any plans. Seeming to have forgotten any mention of dinner in our discussion from a few days before, she said she had already agreed to go to dinner with one of the English teachers along with the other young women in the group. And I got the distinct feeling that I was not welcome, and more specifically, that it was a girls-only affair. I also started to realize, from having seen them congregate in various contexts and places around campus, that this group of about five young teachers had become a kind of clique. In truth, it makes a lot of sense. These young women are all friends, and it’s entirely natural for them to bond and to wish to spend time together apart from friends and colleagues outside their situation,