SNL Presents: The Racist School Board
Sometimes the three of them are just so bad, you have to laugh.
What unfolded at today’s board meeting made one thing brutally clear: whatever hope remained that this board majority might course-correct has now evaporated. Any illusion that one of them — Cynthia Roenisch, Kevin Saavedra, or Jennifer Holden — might break ranks and do the right thing has been shattered. What we’re witnessing isn’t a misunderstanding or a temporary lapse in judgment. It’s deliberate. And the damage they’re doing is going to take a long time to undo.
At the same time, there were moments during the meeting that were almost surreal in their absurdity. The shifting explanations, the deflections, the contradictions — they’re hard to keep up with. The key issue on the table was straightforward: If Paul Austin and Tenisha Tate were let go for financial reasons, then wouldn’t independent funding from Friends of Tam District solve the problem?
The answer from Roenisch, Saavedra, and Holden was essentially: “No.” Each member gave a different rationale — none of them consistent. Holden rejected the data outright, without evidence. Saavedra went so far as to question whether focusing on Black students was appropriate at all. Roenisch said little to nothing. If you were hoping for leadership rooted in reason, equity, or even basic consistency — today made clear that we’re not going to get it.
It was a display both telling and embarrassing. I’ll put together a full recap soon, but tonight, one thing stands out: this board majority no longer feels the need to justify their actions coherently. This evening all I can think about is how absurd the whole thing was — how small and unserious these three have become. When I sat down to describe it, I realized it sounded like a sketch from Saturday Night Live. So that’s how I decided to write it.
Disclaimer: This is satire, in that this isn’t exactly how things happened. But…
Open on the school board meeting. A large group has gathered, hopeful that the trustees might finally do the right thing.
The crowd murmurs as only three of the normal five board members come into the room. Cynthia Roenisch, Kevin Saavedra, and Jenny Holden look angry as they come in and take their seats.
“You may speak,” Cynthia says, gesturing to the crowd.
“Don’t hurt our Black kids!” the crowd pleads.
“Enough!” she shouts. “That is enough out of you.” Solemnly, she nods to her right, and Kevin begins to speak.
“Telling us not to hurt Black kids is racist,” he says.
“What?” the crowd asks.
“Silence!” Cynthia shouts. She bangs the table with a tiny little hammer. Kevin is staring at the crowd with his meanest face. His thin arms are shaking with rage.
“That’s right,” he continues. “You’re racist. Not me. You. You keep saying, ‘Oh, please, please, don’t hurt the Black kids.’ But what if we wanted to hurt some white kids?”
“We aren’t going to hurt white kids, are we?” Jenny shouts, surprised.
“No, of course not,” Cynthia assures her. “Just the Black kids.”
“Right,” Kevin says. “But these guys aren’t even worried that we might hurt white kids. That’s how I know they’re racist.”
“Do you have anything else to add?” Cynthia asks him.
“Yes, one other thing: Everyone who works at the district is a liar, and I hate them.”
“Okay, thank you, Kevin, so much for your bravery,” Cynthia gushes. “Jenny, it’s your turn.”
“Thank you,” Jenny says. “First of all, I have Black friends. Okay? That means I’m not racist. Got it? If you want, I can show you pictures of me with a Black person. I grew up in an area that had Black people. So I’m not racist…”
“Me neither,” Kevin says.
“Right. Me and Kevin are definitely not racist. Secondly, you guys are bad at math. Have you seen this data? It’s ridiculous. First you say that 10 Black kids were hurt badly last year. Ten? Why not ten thousand? Why not ten million? Why is the number so small? Because you’re lying, that’s why. And think about this: ten plus ten is twenty. Multiply twenty by twenty — that’s like 300 hundred. Where is the data showing that 300 Black kids should have gotten hurt at Tam? You don’t have it.”
“Because they’re racist,” Kevin says.
“Right, because YOU’RE the racists!” Jenny says, pointing at the crowd.
“All Lives Matter!” Kevin shouts.
“All Lives Matter,” Jenny joins in.
“All Lives Matter!” Cynthia agrees. “Anything else?” Cynthia asks.
“Yes,” Jenny says, starting to cry. “People have been really mean to me just because Black kids are getting hurt, and that’s wrong. You should never hurt someone that isn’t Black.”
“Shame on you!” Kevin shouts in his tiny voice.
“And you know what else? Everyone is secretly glad that we’re doing this,” Jenny continues, snapping out of her crying. “Everyone, except all of you in the crowd. I have, like, 50 friends who call me all the time and say, ‘Jenny, thank God you’re standing up against those racists! We don’t want anything that helps Black kids and we are definitely not racist!’ But they won’t tell anyone that they’re glad we’re doing this because they’re afraid. Afraid that they’ll be bullied just like I have been bullied. Nobody in this crowd is thinking about me, and that is the saddest part of all of this. You all should be ashamed of yourselves for thinking about me so little.”
“I’m sorry for everything you’ve been through, Jenny,” Cynthia says. “People like Jenny should not get their feelings hurt in our community! Come here, Jenny! Let’s hug.”
Jenny gets up from her seat, and she, Cynthia, and Kevin have a group hug behind their chairs. The hug goes on for several minutes.
“Is that the end of the board meeting?” the crowd asks.
“Yes,” Cynthia says, turning around. “I hope you’ve learned your lesson. No matter how much you care about Black kids, we care even more about not listening to anything you have to say.”
“But what about if we pay for it?” someone asks from the back.
“Pay for what?” Kevin pops his head out of the group hug. “Pay for my BMW?”
“No, what if we pay for a program that doesn’t hurt Black kids?” the group says. “We’ve started collecting money already…”
“We won’t accept your money. We hate your money,” Cynthia says.
“And you don’t even know how to count,” Jenny tells them. “You’ll say, oh here, here’s fifty thousand dollars — and then I’ll look, and all of a sudden it’s a trillion dollars. What am I going to do with a trillion dollars?”
“All Lives Matter,” Kevin says quietly.
“And remember,” Cynthia tells the crowd, gathering herself to leave, “when the Black kids get hurt in the fall, it’s all your fault.”
“All Lives Matter!” Kevin says, storming out of the room. “You better remember that next time you try to call me a racist!”
“Me too!” Jenny shouts and storms off. As she and Kevin walk away, you can hear her still talking: “Nobody in there is thinking about me! What about meeeeeeeee????”
“Get out of here, losers,” Cynthia says to the crowd. She bangs her little hammer on the table.
The End.
Note: When the video of the July 2nd special board meeting comes out, I implore you to watch it and see what we are dealing with here. You can find the links here. I personally believe they only called this meeting to try to make themselves look good, which, again, only makes me laugh. The meeting was brutal and painful and absurd.
This is a fictionalized satire of recent events. The statements and characters depicted are exaggerated for commentary.