Chapter Two:

BIG DREAMS, BIG DOUBTS

At home, I did my math worksheet and journal prompt, and then it was time to read with my little brother, Jackson. We had so many books in our family room, it looked like the library where Mom worked. It was one of the coolest places in our house.

Cozy reading nooks waited for someone to curl up in them. You could plop on Kente cloth beanbags, stretch out in the window seat, or snuggle into fluffy pillows on the comfy red couch. Picture books, chapter books, and novels packed the shelves. The fantasy and science fiction ones were my favorites. I loved exploring new worlds.

With Mom being a children’s librarian, reading was like eating around here. Mom called books “food for our minds.” But some days, Jax acted like reading a new book was as awful as someone asking him to take a bite of the vegetable he dreaded most—cauliflower. If the story wasn’t about superheroes, vehicles, or Star Wars, he didn’t want to try it. Even if he had to for homework.

“Are you ready to go on a ride?” I asked as we stood in front of the wall of bookshelves.

“Where are we going?” Jax replied, ready to pout.

“Let’s fly to Hawaii today,” I said, showing him a picture book about former president Barack Obama. I sank into the soft couch cushions and patted a spot next to me.

“Okay, Jax,” I commanded. “Buckle up.”

I snapped an imaginary seat belt in place. Then I waited for him to do the same. He looked like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to get on board. “The pilot said we can’t leave until you’re safe.”

“Pilot?” he asked.

Jax scrambled next to me, smiled, and pretended to fasten himself in.

“Click,” he shouted.

“Get ready for takeoff in three . . . two . . . one. Whoosh!”

I opened the book, and we soared into the story. As we took turns reading about President Obama’s life, I thought about my campaign for student council. I wanted to make a difference and bring people together too, but how could I do that when the thought of talking to a crowd made me want to hide?

After hanging out with Jax, I told Mom the big news.

“Simone and Lena nominated me for student council,” I said. “Can you sign the paper saying it’s okay for me to run?”

“Way to go, Jada!” Mom said. “Of course! Let me know if you want to talk about ideas. You know Dad and I have campaigned before. We can help.”

Mom was vice president of her sorority. Dad was treasurer of his fraternity. They made running seem so easy. Why did it feel so hard?

I wanted to be on student council, but I wondered if I should tell Miss Taylor I had changed my mind. When I was nervous about class presentations, I could take a breath, hold my hands to keep them still, and get through it. But the student council speech was in front of the whole fourth grade. Just thinking about it made me feel sick.

I remember the time I tried out for the Black History Month play. I wanted the part of astronaut Mae Jemison more than anything. I knew the lines. I could say them loud and with pride. But at tryouts, it felt like someone shook a Scrabble bag in my head, and I had to try to find the letters to spell each word before I said it. Finally, a line squeaked out. Mr. King, the music teacher, kept telling me to speak louder. I ended up as part of the chorus.

At dinner, Mom spilled the beans to Daddy.

“Jada is running for student council.”

“Student council today. President tomorrow,” he proudly announced.

“Like Barack Obama?” Jax asked.

I shook my head and tried to smile.

“You never know where things can lead,” Mom said with a wink.

I knew everybody meant well, but all that talk about President Obama made worries start jumping around in my head like popcorn in a microwave. I wasn’t a great speaker like him, or even some of the kids my age. What if I froze up when it was my turn?

“Can I be excused?”

“Sure,” Mom said. “Feeling okay?”

I nodded.

“Just want to work on my campaign.”

In my room, I flopped on my daybed, squeezing my stuffed dragon, Steamy, and looked at my wall of heroes. There was Dr. Mae Jemison, along with Team USA’s gold medal–winning women’s gymnastics team, scientist Dr. George Washington Carver, and others I admired. They faced challenges I couldn’t even imagine, but they believed in their dreams. They sacrificed and worked hard.

I heard a couple of raps on my door, and then it opened.

“How’s it going?” Daddy asked, standing in my doorway. “Need any help with your campaign?”

“I don’t know, Daddy,” I said, and sighed. “I want to try for student council, but then I’m not so sure. I mean, I have to give a speech in front of everyone. I don’t know if I can do it.”

He walked in and sat on the edge of my bed.

“Well, your pop pop used to tell me, ‘If you’re going to let something hold you back, maybe you don’t want it as badly as you think.’ You don’t have to run for student council. It’s your decision. But if you do, go all in. You might surprise yourself.”

Daddy hugged me and left me alone with my thoughts. Why did it feel like all of my heroes were staring at me, waiting for me to make the right choice?

I sat at my desk, opened a notebook, and grabbed my four-in-one pen. It was set to my best friend Mari’s and my favorite color, purple.

When Mari moved away, I didn’t think I’d ever be as close to someone as I was to her. Then I got to know Lena and Simone. Now, I had three besties. What if my campaign focused on being a friend? Running for student council wasn’t about me. It was about helping the school, helping my classmates.

I looked at my heroes. If they could overcome challenges, I could, too. Did I want to be on student council? Yes!

I started writing down slogans. Then, one came to me that felt just right: “Vote for Jada: The Voice of a Friend.”