The beige-colored brick and glass two-story building had been completed in record time. The new Eastgate Junior High School was sturdy and similar to hundreds of other schools that were being built to handle the huge influx of baby boomers. It was mid-November 1960, and the new President-elect J.F.K. waited for Ike's exit from the White House. Everyone at Eastgate Junior High was high on election fever. That included all the 9th and 10th grade students that had been shipped to Eastgate because of overcrowding at North Kansas City High School. Ignoring most of the political hoopla, I'd never remotely considered throwing my hat in the ring and running for political office, until I heard Jacqueline Kennedy speak on TV.

"I want to live my life, not record it", Jackie said, giving me the necessary shove to run for class president of the 9th grade at Eastgate Junior High School.

Up to that time no one had ever heard of a girl running for the top job. Girls were supposed to be class secretaries or treasurers. At first, I was denied a chance to put my name on the ballot, until Mister Tall, Smart and Handsome intervened. Speaking in a commanding voice, Eastgate's science teacher, Mister Munger used common sense to advocate a female's right to run for class president.

My competitors in the hotly contested race were two unmannerly boys, who snickered during my campaign speeches. It wasn't my speechifying that got me censored, but my campaign poster art that drew all the flak. After a complaint from a concerned mother, I was called into Principle Frazier's office. He held up one of my hand-painted posters. Keeping a straight-face, he pointed at the artful image. 

            "Miss Pruessner. Exactly what is the meaning of this?"

            "It's my campaign poster, Mister Frazier."

            "Yes, I understand that. What I'm referring to is this...this image."

            "You mean Miss World?"

            Principle Frazier nodded and his jowly cheeks grew pink. I had drawn a picture of our blue-green planet as viewed from outer space. Underneath the big round world in bold letters were the words, 'IT'S A WOMAN'S WORLD'.

            "Nothing wrong with that, is there Mister Frazier?"

            "No, Miss Pruessner, nothing is wrong with those four words." Like he was examining a great work of art, Principle Frazier inspected my poster. It was one of the dozens that I had painted at night, after all my homework was done. Finally, he looked at me and shook his head. "What's wrong are these two long, shapely legs. And Miss Pruessner, why in the world is Miss World wearing stiletto heels?" I silently shrugged. "No, no, I'm afraid this will not do in polite society. You'll have to paint over the offending limbs."

At that time I'd already won a couple of art contests, blue ribbon things, so there was no way I could or would deface my work. That would be a sacrilege in my book. Besides, what right did Principle Frazier have to censor my artistic expression? Oh yeah, I forgot, he ran a teenage coo-coo's nest. I suggested that just maybe I could put a skirt on Miss World so she wouldn't look so naked to the eye. I didn't mention that only a sicky would be offended by a pair of legs stuck on an inanimate planet.

In the end it was a sad day for a budding artist when I marched into Eastgate Junior High and tore down  my offending posters. To add insult to my injury, I lost the race for class president that year to one of the unnamed boys. On a brighter note the following week, to celebrate the upcoming coronation of the Eastgate Junior High King Neptune and his court, I decorated the entire school cafeteria with bigger than life-size painted cardboard cutouts of underwater creatures that include a mermaid with real seashells covering her offending bumps.