After demonstrating that the “Blackface” photo was an acne mask, teens who were expelled for it were awarded $1 million.
A miscommunication at Mountain View, California’s Saint Francis High School resulted in the expulsion of a few pupils in 2017. Since the school thought these children had worn blackface, there were severe repercussions right away. It was eventually discovered, though, that the pupils were only using an acne treatment mask. The kids have received a $1 million compensation as a result of this realization, which has caused a significant turn in the events.
Trouble Resulted from Blackface
A picture of three 14-year-old boys from the school went viral online and sparked uproar, which sparked the start of the trouble. The boys were charged with making fun of a terrible period in American history. It was quickly ascertained, although, that this was a misunderstanding. The boys were only helping a friend who was using a skincare mask to treat his acne.
Highlighted was Saint Francis High School, which is renowned for its rigorous academic standards and dedication to student growth. Although the contentious image was uploaded in 2017, it wasn’t until 2020—during a time of increased sensitivity to racial issues—that it came to light.
Gaining Notoriety During Debate
In 2020, the year of the COVID-19 epidemic and major social turmoil, the photo went viral. Since it seemed to depict the students in blackface, they were expelled right away. The boys encountered strong criticism from their community; their identities have been withheld for their security.
The lads said that the reason for their faces’ dark color was an acne mask that begins green and becomes darker as it dries. The miscommunication caused by the photo’s brightness further led to the boys being falsely accused by school officials.
Blackface Myths
After reviewing the case this week, the Santa Clara County Court concluded that the boys had been unfairly charged. The lads were expelled without having received the requisite due process, the court found. This means that every student will get $500,000 in addition to their $70,000 tuition being paid back. “This case is significant not only for our clients but for its groundbreaking effect on all private high schools in California,” said Krista Baughman, one of the teen’s attorneys. The unfairness of Saint Francis High School’s practices was duly confirmed by the jury.
The lads initially accused the school of defamation and breaching their right to free speech, and they launched a lawsuit seeking $20 million. Even though they didn’t get the entire sum, their families and legal team view the settlement as a win.
Saint Francis High School has stated that it disagrees with the court’s ruling and is thinking about all of its legal options, including filing an appeal. “We want to sincerely thank the jury and the court system for helping our boys and our families find justice and clear their names,” said a statement from one of the boys’ families.
Amazing Skincare
The mislabeled mask was actually a part of an Origins skincare collection. Origins, a well-known brand in skincare thanks to its natural approach, has been around since the 1980s and offers a variety of products that address everything from oil control to face brightening. Due to its dedication to using only plant-based components, the brand is well-known all over the world.
Given the racial tensions that exist in the nation today, it is not shocking that a picture that seems to depict blackface would be misinterpreted. Dark-colored substances like charcoal have gained popularity in cosmetic goods like acne masks and toothpaste that whitens teeth. Particularly in the beauty sector, these goods are here to stay.
Our Landlady Threw Us Out to Give the Upgraded Apartment to Her Sister — But Fate Quickly Taught Her a Harsh Lesson 5 days ago
It was like the ground had been ripped out from under me. I could barely speak, barely think. Chris, who had been listening in, immediately took the phone from me, his face a mask of shock and disbelief.
“Mrs. Johnson, there has to be another way,” he pleaded, trying to keep his voice steady. “We’ve put so much into this place. It’s our home.”
“I know, I know,” Mrs. Johnson replied, sounding genuinely sorry, “but Lisa’s family. She’s all I have left, and she’s in such a desperate situation… I can’t turn her away.”
What could we do? She’d made up her mind, and no amount of pleading was going to change that.
The next few weeks were a blur of packing boxes, canceled subscriptions, and trying not to break down every time I walked past a spot we’d lovingly restored.
The hardest part was leaving behind the memories we’d woven into every inch of that apartment—the late-night painting sessions, the laughter, the quiet moments of contentment.
Our new place was… well, it was a roof over our heads, and that was about all I could say for it.
It was smaller, darker, and lacked any of the charm that had made our old apartment so special. But Chris and I did what we always did—we made the best of it. We hung our pictures, arranged our furniture, and tried to pretend that everything was okay.
It wasn’t.
A few weeks after the move, I ran into Mrs. Patterson, one of our old neighbors, at the grocery store. We exchanged the usual pleasantries, but then she dropped a bombshell that left me reeling.
“Lisa’s been telling everyone how thrilled she is with the renovations in your old place. Said it was like moving into a brand-new apartment!”
My blood ran cold. Thrilled with the renovations? Wasn’t she supposed to be too distraught to care? Something didn’t add up, and I wasn’t about to let it slide.
That night, I couldn’t sleep. My mind was racing, replaying every conversation, every detail. There had to be more to this story, and I was determined to find out what it was.
Over the next few days, I started digging. I talked to a few other neighbors, asked some subtle questions, and pieced together a picture that made my blood boil.
Lisa hadn’t lost her job or her apartment. She’d manipulated Mrs. Johnson, using her sister’s kindness to get her hands on our beautifully renovated space. She hadn’t lifted a finger, but she’d swooped in and stolen the fruits of our hard work.
When I confronted Chris with what I’d found, he was furious—just as I’d expected.
We’d been used, betrayed by people we thought we could trust. Everything we’d built, everything we’d cherished, had been taken from us in the most underhanded way possible.
As we sat in our new, unremarkable living room, the weight of it all pressed down on us like a suffocating blanket. We were angry, yes, but more than that, we were heartbroken.
And it only got worse.
You ever hear something so downright ridiculous, that you just have to laugh? That was me and Chris when we first heard what Lisa had done to our old place.
I mean, you couldn’t make this stuff up if you tried. But there it was, delivered straight to us by the neighborhood’s most reliable source of gossip—Mrs. Thompson, who, bless her heart, couldn’t keep a secret if her life depended on it.
We were at the grocery store, of all places, when we ran into her.
“Judith! Chris!” she said, her voice tinged with that mix of excitement and pity that only someone like her could pull off. “You’ll never believe what Lisa’s done with your old apartment!”
My stomach dropped. I’d been trying so hard to move on, to not think about that place, but here she was, ready to spill the latest. I couldn’t stop myself from asking, though. It was like picking at a scab you know you should leave alone.
Chris, beside me, stiffened, his jaw tightening just the slightest bit. He knew whatever was coming wouldn’t be good.
Mrs. Thompson leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “She’s turned your beautiful kitchen into a metal workshop! Welding and all sorts of things, can you believe it?”
For a second, I thought I hadn’t heard her right. A metal workshop? In our kitchen?
Chris let out a low, bitter laugh, shaking his head. He looked at me, his eyes dark with anger, but also something else—a strange, grim amusement. “Well, isn’t that just perfect?”
My mind was reeling, trying to picture the damage.
It was infuriating, but there was something almost… poetic about it, too. She wanted our place so badly, and now she was destroying it piece by piece.
Mrs. Thompson, bless her, was still talking. “Mrs. Johnson’s beside herself, poor thing. She tried to get Lisa to leave, but you know how family is. Lisa won’t budge.”
Later that night, Chris and I sat on the couch watching TV. We hadn’t said much since the grocery store, both of us lost in our thoughts. Finally, I broke the silence.
“Do you think she’s ruining it on purpose?” I asked, my voice barely more than a whisper.
Chris sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Who knows? Maybe she’s just that careless, or maybe she’s trying to wipe away any trace of us. Either way, it’s out of our hands now.”
I nodded, but it didn’t make it any easier to swallow.
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