Seventeen

Public Comment

When they arrived at the local community center, Sharleen was surprised by how many cars were parked in the adjacent lot. Grateful for their support, she watched with pride as each one piled out of Lola’s minivan. Together, the group walked to the entrance of the chic-looking modern building, complete with a slanted roof. The bright glow from within the building mesmerized her. The center looked like an illuminated beacon of hope, promising only good things to those who entered it. She took this as a good sign.

Inside, the lobby was buzzing with conversation and activity. Looking around at the sea of faces, Sharleen struggled with the sudden feeling she was out of place.

This is crazy. Why am I here?

Trying to quiet her inner critic, she approached a check-in table which was being manned by none other than Holly, who was dressed festively for the occasion, resembling one of Santa’s sinful elves. Not a hair or false eyelash out of place.

Well, would you look who’s here? They’ll probably name her the Volunteer of the Year and give her an award or a parade. The mayor might even give her a key to Harmonville or create a holiday in her honor.

Holly raised a perfectly arched eyebrow at her. “Yes?” she greeted with her usual sneer.

“Hello, Holly,” Sharleen said, keeping her volume up to be heard above the surrounding crowd. “I understand there’s an opportunity to speak to the school board members tonight.”

Holly skimmed a printed document in her hand before asking, “Did you sign up for Public Comment?”

Wonder if her brow is permanently arched like that?

“No. What is that?”

A look of sheer annoyance swept across Holly’s face. “You have to sign up ahead of time for the Public Comment portion of the agenda, Sharleen. Did you do this?”

That condescending tone beat a banshee’s wail, irking Sharleen. “No, I didn’t,” she admitted. “I didn’t know that was a requirement.”

“Well, then, you won’t be able to speak tonight. The board will meet again in late January. The information is available on the website.” Holly looked beyond Sharleen and said, “Next!”

“But I can’t wait until next month. We need their help now. You know this. You work there.”

“I’m sorry. There are no exceptions to the rule.” Holly’s words were firm. “You’re welcome to attend the meeting tonight, but you won’t be permitted to speak.”

Sensing there was an issue, Sharleen’s backup joined her at the check-in table, standing behind her like an army, flanking her on all sides.

“Is there a problem here?” Sylvia asked, her eyes locked on Holly.

“She says I have to sign up ahead of time to speak,” Sharleen explained. “Honestly, I didn’t know.”

Sylvia continued to eye their nemesis. “Oh, you’re gonna speak tonight, Sharleen.”

“How?” she asked.

Lola stood next to Sharleen. “Leave it to me,” she said. “I’ll take care of it.”

“Maybe we should go inside and find seats,” said Cristina. “It looks crowded.”

Willie laughed as they walked away. “And miss all the fun out here? This is the best night out I’ve had in years. I was kinda hoping Sharleen would finally come to blows with Holly. For old time’s sake.”

“That’s not happening,” Sharleen assured her.

Willie didn’t bother hiding her disappointment.

Sharleen led the way, taking them inside the large, brightly lit room. Above them, expensive-looking light fixtures resembling UFOs cast a warm, comforting glow over the entire area. The seats themselves were cushioned folding chairs, an upgraded version of the chairs backstage at the school. They were crammed together as closely as possible. On the opposite side of the room stood a large, elevated platform. From left to right there were six board members seated at a long table covered with an elegant cloth. Sharleen noticed that the chair reserved for Jessica Spencer, the superintendent, was empty.

I really need her to be here tonight. Please don’t let her be a no-show.

As they searched for seats, Sharleen took a moment to study each member seated onstage. Four men. Two women. Only one of them a person of color. All of them looked to be at least fifty years old, if not closer to seventy. They all shared a similar expression that suggested they’d rather be anywhere else than sitting at a table waiting for a public school board meeting to start. There was a folded name card in front of each member: Robert, Iris, John, Clark, Dottie, and Peter.

Sharleen tried to determine whether or not any of the board members would be sympathetic to her cause. Would they listen to her and understand why their support was so critical?

Please let me use the right words. Let me connect with these strangers who have the power to change everything for the school, for the kids.

Sylvia found empty seats for them in the fifth row from the front of the stage. They side-stepped their way through the very narrow aisle of chairs and sat, shoulders and knees touching.

“I didn’t realize this many people cared about education,” Willie observed. “Imagine if they all donated a dollar for the show. Hell, if they donated two dollars, we might even get a new library.”

“It’s a nice thought,” said Sharleen.

The meeting was called to order, but it wasn’t long before the night felt endless. Victor and Ivy struggled to keep their eyes open. Likewise, Sharleen and her backup were bored. She checked her watch. Lola did the same before getting up and moving to the back of the room.

Where is she going?

The board member named Peter leaned into the table microphone in front of him. “The hour is late, but we have just enough time for our Public Comment speakers.” He consulted with a piece of paper. “It looks like we have two speakers tonight. Melinda Morgan is up first. Melinda, are you here?” Peter looked out into the crowd. As he did, Sharleen decided he had the kindest face out of all the board members.

He looks like someone’s dad. Probably coaches little league and volunteers to be the grill master at neighborhood cookouts.

A woman stood at the back and approached the microphone stand in front of the stage. Before she reached it, Lola intercepted and grabbed the microphone, taking it off the stand. She tried to take the microphone to where Sharleen sat in the fifth row, but the cord wasn’t long enough, knocking over the stand in the process.

Realizing Lola’s plan, Sharleen stood and moved fast, scrambling her way through the narrow aisle. Lola now looked like a deranged host of a daytime talk show gone wrong. The audience watched on, oblivious.

Sharleen took the microphone from Lola and held it with a firm grip, worried someone would rush in and try to take it.

Nice Peter gave her a curious look and asked, “Are you Melinda Morgan?”

“No,” Sharleen said. “My name is Sharleen Vega.” She cringed at the screech of feedback from the overhead sound system that filled the crowded room.

The board member with the over-styled strawberry blonde hair, Dottie, leaned forward and said into her microphone, “Ma’am, I’m sorry, but I don’t see your name on the list of speakers.” The shade of turquoise she wore wasn’t the best color choice for her pale complexion. On her face was a sour expression that Sharleen realized was permanent, as if Dottie had been forced to eat one lemon after another all her life.

“I know,” Sharleen replied, “because my name isn’t on it.”

“Then you’ll need to wait until next year to speak.” Dottie was firm.

Is she related to Holly, by any chance? A distant cousin? The wicked queen to Holly’s evil princess? Had they come from the same ruthless kingdom where children suffered and afterschool program coordinators were forced into a life of servitude, with no hope for sweet victory?

Sharleen tightened her grip on the mic. “I can’t do that.”

From the corner of her eye, Sharleen saw a scrawny security guard start to approach her. His uniform looked far too big for him, like he was someone’s little brother filling in for him for the night. The too-thin guy looked like he had second thoughts when Willie, Sylvia, and Cristina stood. Lola then stepped in his path, blocking his access to Sharleen.

“Have a seat,” Lola told him. “This will only a take minute.”

On stage, Dottie looked to her colleagues for help. “What is going on here?” she asked.

The others shrugged, if they even acknowledged her question at all.

The security guard took a few steps back, defeated, before leaving.

“See, our school needs your help now,” Sharleen continued.

This caught Peter’s attention. “Are you a teacher?”

“No,” Sharleen answered. “I’m not. Not yet, anyway.”

Ivy stood up and said to Sharleen, “Yes, you are.” Ivy turned to the board members and said, “Yes, she is. And she’s a good one, too.”

Victor was on his feet then. “She’s our favorite teacher,” he informed the adults on stage. “She lets me dance.”

Despite what the students were saying on Sharleen’s behalf, Dottie was having none of it. Not an ounce of sympathy appeared on her face. The table microphone was pulled closer as if she wanted her words to be heard loud and clear. “Ma’am, this is highly inappropriate,” she said in a reprimanding tone. “We have rules and protocols for a reason.”

“Yes, and I respect them,” Sharleen said, “but those rules and protocols are destroying a place I love.”

Robert Kellis leaned forward and said into his microphone, “What school are you from?” He was a tall black man in an expensive-looking suit. He had salt and pepper hair and a genuine smile.

“I’m here from Harmonville Elementary School,” she explained.

“I admire you for taking on the challenges of working at that particular school,” Robert noted. “Your principal, Betty Marchant, has led a considerable charge to obtain significant support.” Robert then looked directly at Dottie and said. “But unfortunately, Principal Marchant has faced considerable resistance in her—”

Rude Dottie cut him off. “Again, you’re not on the list of speakers for this evening. I’m going to ask you to either sit down or leave.”

The muscles in her jaw tightened. A ping of defiance spread between her shoulder blades. Sharleen locked her knees, standing firm. “I’m not leaving until you listen,” she insisted.

A few people in the crowd around her offered Sharleen a smattering of applause in support of her refusal to sit down. The sound and energy of the response started to grow, gaining momentum.

Robert was adamant. “I think we should let her speak.”

The other female board member, Iris, pulled her microphone to her and said, “I agree. She should be heard.”

The audience encouraged this with a now rumbling roar of support.

“Fine,” Dottie snapped. “You have one minute, Miss Vega.” Dottie reached for a nearby stopwatch and clicked it hard. “And I’m timing you.”

Sharleen took a quick breath before speaking. “Thank you,” she began. “I’m here tonight because our school needs you. We are the lowest funded in the district. You say this is because of test scores or the zip code or crime in the area, but why give a school no help when it needs your help the most? I work in an afterschool program there. We’re trying to put together a show for the holidays, a show the kids have worked very hard on—and some of the mothers have helped, too. But if you were to give the school more funding, we could do so much more.”

Dottie interjected with, “You have thirty seconds remaining, Miss Vega.”

Sharleen shot the strawberry red-haired women a look of annoyance and powered on. “These kids are talented,” she said. “They deserve the same opportunities that other students in this city have. I know this because this was the school I went to myself. It’s the neighborhood I come from, a place that I call home.” She glanced at Victor and Ivy, who were staring at her with awe on their young faces. “I want it to be better. And it can be. Please help us. If you don’t—”

Dottie was on her feet, stopwatch in hand. “Thank you, Miss Vega,” she said, with a victorious smile. “You’ve reached your time limit. We will consider your concerns at our first board meeting next year. Now, moving on to our last agenda item for the evening—”

This time it was Dottie who was cut off from speaking. A beautiful voice was heard singing in the room. All eyes shifted to Ivy who was standing on her chair and singing an a cappella version of a song about hope.

This irritated Dottie to no end. “Can someone please ask her to stop?” she insisted. “This is a meeting, not a talent show.”

In response, Ivy sang even louder. Victor stepped into the aisle and broke out into an improvised hip-hop dance. Members of the audience started to clap, creating a rhythm for both performers.

Sylvia stood up. “You can’t stop her from using her voice!” Sylvia shouted above the enthusiasm of the crowd. “Just like you can’t stop my son from dancing, or Miss Sharleen from being the best damn teacher we’ve ever had.”

Lola took the microphone from Sharleen long enough to say into it, “You can’t pretend like our school doesn’t exist. We’re not invisible. Our children deserve the same chances other kids have.” She handed the mic back to Sharleen, who felt a tidal wave of emotions brewing within.

Please don’t let me cry. Even though this is the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen or been a part of.

“Board members, I beg of you to help this school,” she said. “That’s all we want. Give them a library and a performing arts center and books to read. Please give my students a chance!”

Dottie waved her arms like a woman on the verge of a complete breakdown. She looked wild and furious. “This meeting is adjourned!” she shouted, her voice cracking with fury.

Robert Kellis rose out of his chair and stopped the chaos with one word, “Wait!”

The room, including Ivy, fell silent. All focus turned to him.

Sharleen watched as Robert moved from his place on stage, to the steps on the side, to the ground she stood on, and finally, he reached her. They stood, eying each other, “Miss Vega,” he said, “why are you really here? Please. Tell us. I would like to know.”

Sharleen saw the glimmer of empathy in his eyes as she lifted her microphone again and said into it, “I’m here because no one knows more than me the incredible gift this school is,” she explained. “It’s where I first learned how to play the piano and where I learned how to defend myself on the playground, and where I became the queen of chalk art. It’s a part of who I am. In the last two months, these students—the entire community—have reminded me to believe in the impossible. They shouldn’t be penalized because of preconceived ideas about the neighborhood they live in. Just because someone doesn’t understand the challenges the families face shouldn’t give them permission to punish them, just for working hard and trying to do right by their kids. Stop underestimating them … us.”

“I agree,” Robert said with a small nod of approval. “You mentioned a holiday show?”

“Yes.” Sharleen again directed her words to the board members. “We would love for all of you to be there, as our guests. Come see what these remarkable young people can do. I believe that once you do, you’ll understand how important it is to support them … and Principal Marchant.”

Willie acted fast. Without hesitation, she was on the stage with the flyers, giving one to each board member. They each accepted one from her except for Dottie who had her arms crossed in silent refusal. Willie left one for her anyway with some words of advice, “Go with God, Dottie. He’ll be happier with you for it.”

Robert extended a hand to Sharleen. She shook it. “Thank you,” she said to him.

“Thank you, Miss Vega,” he said. “I will be there.” He turned to the stage and said, “As for my fellow board members, that’s up to them. As for your request for additional funding, I’ll see what we can do.”

The crowd showed their appreciation for Robert with a thunderous round of cheers and applause. He waited for the audience to quiet down before he looked at Ivy. She held his gaze.

“By the way, you have a beautiful voice,” he said. “And a terrific teacher.” Robert then turned his attention to Victor. “You’re a very talented young man. I hope you get the chance to continue to use your gift.”

Victor stared at Robert with reverence in his dark brown eyes and said, “Yes, sir.”

Sharleen put the microphone down on her empty chair. Lola stepped in, picked it up from the seat, and replaced it on the microphone stand, which was upright again.

On impulse, Sharleen walked to the edge of the stage. There, she looked Dottie in the eye from where she stood and said, “For whatever it’s worth … I forgive you.”

Dottie continued to fume, radiating an intense rage. Seeing how angry Dottie was made Sharleen take pause.

“I hope someday you can find joy … especially in helping others.”

May I never become so jaded and ungrateful that I turn into this woman or anything like her.

Sharleen turned away from Dottie and the other board members and reached for Ivy’s hand. Together, they headed toward the main entrance, along with the rest of the audience. She spotted Jake immediately. He was standing in the back with both hands dug deep into the front pockets of his faded blue jeans. She approached him with a smile.

“Wow,” he beamed. “All I can say is, wow.” He turned to his daughter and said, “I’m proud of both of you.”

“Thank you, daddy,” the ten-year-old replied. “Can we stop for ice cream on the way home?”

“You bet we can. I think you’ve both earned a double scoop tonight.”

They stepped into the lobby. Sharleen noticed Holly lingering nearby within earshot.

Cristina stepped in Sharleen’s direction. Sylvia, Lola, Willie, and Victor followed. “What you said in there … it meant a lot,” Cristina said. She reached out and hugged Sharleen. “Thank you.”

It was Sylvia’s turn next. “Sharleen, you’re the best thing to ever happen to our school. What you’ve done for us and for our kids … we owe you big time.”

Holly’s cell phone buzzed. Sharleen saw her answer the call, their eyes meeting briefly in the process.

“I just hope they listened,” said Lola.

“Well, if they didn’t, we’ll come back again,” Sharleen vowed. “We’ll keep coming back until they do.”

Holly suddenly stepped forward, taking all of them by surprise. She handed her cell phone to Sharleen.

Before Holly spoke, Sharleen already knew something was wrong. She sensed it, felt it in her pulsing veins, quickened with an instant dash of pure adrenaline.

“Sharleen, something’s happened,” Holly said. “At the school. Something bad. Betty’s on the phone.” Holly took a breath and blinked back tears. “I really think you should speak to her.”

Slowly, Sharleen placed the phone to her ear. She took a deep breath, preparing.

And hoping.