Watch Us Rise(57)

“What’s that one say?” I ask, hanging back as they all continue down the hall practicing their new songs.

“Ah, nothing, I just liked it.” He hands it to me. It says: I resolve to ask for what I want. My voice should be valued and heard.

“Why do you like it?” I ask.

“I guess I’m just curious. What do you want?”





The next day, Chelsea and I arrive to school extra early so we can plan a follow-up to our I Resolve action. We meet up at our lockers then head to Ms. Lucas’s classroom. Chelsea already had her morning coffee so she is talking nonstop. “So, like I was saying, Valentine’s Day. How do we get James and Isaac to take us on a double date?”

I am listening but not listening.

Ever since Dad died, it’s been hard to keep my mind focused.

I am here but not here.

Yesterday, I felt so powerful. Felt like Dad was smiling down on me, with me even. And I didn’t cry at all, not even last night when that commercial came on that always made the two of us laugh even though we’d seen it countless times. Yesterday was a good day. But this morning? This morning I feel heavy. I wanted to talk to Dad at breakfast—debrief everything Chelsea and I did. Talk about what we should do next. Today, on the way to school, someone was on the subway platform blasting a song that I don’t even know, but it made me think of Dad. I started crying right there, standing in a crowd of people, surrounded by noise and the early bustle of the city. Not a sobbing cry, just tiny tears crawling down my face.

Today is not yesterday. If I could, I’d go back to bed. Start over tomorrow.

We walk into Ms. Lucas’s classroom, and instead of her usual smiling face, she is giving me those sad eyes that I am starting to get used to. Chelsea asks, “Is everything okay?”

Ms. Lucas walks over to the door and closes it. “Girls,” she says. “I’m sorry, there was nothing I could do. Principal Hayes dissolved our club.”

“Dissolved?” I ask. “You mean he shut it down?”

Chelsea tosses her backpack to the floor. “He’s a such a piece of—”

“Chelsea!” Ms. Lucas shouts. I have never heard her raise her voice before.

Chelsea sits down. “He can’t do this,” Chelsea says.

“Yes, he can. You two are way outside the usual boundaries. I mean, personally, I applaud what you are doing, but this just can’t exist within the confines of a school club. It’s becoming a distraction to the education of other students.” Ms. Lucas sits down across from Chelsea.

I am still standing. “A distraction to the education of others? What is school supposed to teach us then?”

Ms. Lucas crosses her arms. “Jasmine, please, you have to understand that it is inappropriate to slip notes into textbooks—books that belong to the school, mind you. You two can’t have these quotes and resolutions interrupting the school day. Do you understand that the entire custodial staff had to stay late to clean up the mess you all made? And you know that Principal Hayes had already given you a warning. This was your last chance.”

Chelsea yells, “This is a nonviolent protest. We are just doing what this school has taught us to do. And we didn’t mean for the custodians to have to clean them up. We’re sorry about that. They were supposed to stay on the seats so people could read them and make up their own resolutions too. It was supposed to keep the dialogue going,” she says, looking at me for backup.

I say, “Ms. Lucas, when are we supposed to use the education we have? When we graduate, when we’re old? What is the point of learning if everything we learn is theory only? All through our schooling we learn about how Martin Luther King Jr. was only fifteen when he graduated high school, eighteen when he preached his first sermon. Ruby Bridges was only six years old when she stood up against segregation. These are the stories you all teach us over and over—that young people can make a difference. But now that we are trying to do something, to stand up for what we believe, you all want to shut us up, shut us down.”

“Jasmine, Chelsea.” Ms. Lucas’s voice cracks a bit. “I really hoped you’d be able to see both sides of this. I am not against you. And frankly, I don’t think Principal Hayes is. Yes, he could handle things differently, but he’s not against you.”

I walk to the door. “Come on, Chelsea.”

“One more thing,” Ms. Lucas starts, holding up a sheet of paper she must have taken notes on, “we’ve put you both in the Justice by the Numbers club . . . uh, it meets in room 203.”

“What? We have to switch clubs . . . again?” Chelsea asks.

“Every student is required to be in a club. You all know that. And rather than picking your own clubs, Principal Hayes and I agreed that we should assign you a club that we think you would both like,” she finishes, her voice dropping a bit.

“But this is the club we want,” I say.

“I’m so sorry it ended like this,” Ms. Lucas says, and it’s clear that’s the last thing she is going to say. Our club is over.

Chelsea looks at me with hesitation but picks up her bag and walks out.

“Ms. Lucas, thank you for all your help. I know you’re just doing your job,” I say.

We walk out of the classroom, heading to our lockers. I grab Chelsea’s arm, walk her in the other direction. “Where are we going?”