“It was dress code,” DeWitt replied firmly. “Extensions are not allowed. She refused to comply.”
“She refused to be humiliated,” Renee said evenly. “There’s a difference.”
DeWitt’s voice hardened. “Students don’t get to decide what rules apply to them.”
Renee didn’t challenge that. Instead, she opened the folder she’d brought. Inside were neatly organized documents: Aaliyah’s medical diagnosis letter, earlier emails exchanged between Renee’s mother and school staff requesting accommodations, and—most critical—a copy of the district’s own policy stating that medical conditions requiring protective hairstyles or coverings must be addressed through accommodation, not punishment.
Renee slid a page across the desk. “This letter was sent to the school counselor two months ago,” she said. “My mother forwarded it. You were copied.”
Ms. DeWitt blinked—then looked away.
“So you knew,” Renee continued, her tone still controlled. “You knew she had alopecia.”
“She never told me directly,” DeWitt responded quickly.
Renee lifted the printed screenshot she had brought—
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