On Tuesday, all 7th graders have to miss part of 1st period for an assembly. My 1st-period class is math, the only part of my day that I like. I would rather have the assembly during language arts or gym or lunch. But no one asked me.
Mr. Stoker hands back our homework—I got a 92, on purpose—and says to the class, “Let’s go, ladies and gentlemen. Dr. Cobb doesn’t like to wait.”
Levi and I stand up at the same time. I want to say, Done any cheating lately? But then I see his homework grade. He got a 45. I decide to continue giving him the silent treatment.
Our class sits in the 4th and 5th rows of the auditorium. I’m able to sit—doing my usual 3rd-time’s-a-charm routine—without touching the armrest, so I don’t need my Clorox wipes. Windy is on my left. Maddie is supposed to take the seat to my right, but she leaves it empty and takes the next chair over. This makes Mr. Stoker upset.
“Move all the way over, Maddie.” He points to the empty seat next to me.
She does what he says. And then the 11 kids to her right have to slide over so that no seat is left empty.
Mr. Stoker smiles at me like he’s done me a favor. He hasn’t.
“Don’t look at me. Don’t breathe on me,” Maddie whispers. We both lean in opposite directions.
After all the classes arrive, the principal gets on the stage.
“Good morning, East Hamlin Cougars,” Dr. Cobb begins.
Some people mumble a reply of Good morning—mostly the teachers.
“By all accounts, we seem to be off to a great school year. Teachers are already handing out piles of homework, and the cafeteria is serving veggie sloppy joes. It makes a principal proud.” He pauses, maybe waiting for a laugh. “But let’s be serious. It’s now time to lay a strong foundation for your education and your future. At East Hamlin Middle, we expect our students to flourish not only in the classroom but also in the community.
“This year, like every year, you will be required to complete a service project. Last year, your projects were class-wide. As 7th graders, you will work in teams of 3 or 4 students to identify a need in your community and a solution. This is your chance to make a difference. You can change the world for the better.”
Dr. Cobb uses his hands a lot when he talks. He seems to be counting off items on his fingers, but I can’t imagine what.
“Mrs. Jensen runs the program and will give you more information.” Dr. Cobb claps as Mrs. Jensen steps forward. The students clap, too—sort of.
The screen at the back of the stage flitters with color. A PowerPoint presentation pops onto it. I count the words before I read them (9 words, 50 letters, 1 colon): COUGARS CARE PROJECTS: MAKING A DIFFERENCE IN OUR COMMUNITY.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Mrs. Jensen says to us—a statement I always find weird because I’m never able to guess what another person is thinking. And she claims to know what an entire 7th-grade class is thinking. “You’re asking yourself, how can I make a difference? I’m only 12 or 13 years old. I can’t drive. I don’t have any money. I have homework and soccer and dance. How can I help my community?”
That wasn’t what I was thinking. I was calculating the number of hours left in the school year. 1,160.
“Here are some of the projects that 7th graders—students the same as you—have tackled over the past few years.” She waves at the screen with 1 hand and uses her other hand to press a button on a laptop that sits on the podium.
We watch a video that profiles different projects. The 1st shows 3 girls in matching shirts bringing Legos to a local children’s hospital. The next features 4 boys who collect old sports equipment to send to Kenya. I never really thought of Kenya as part of my community, but 1 of the boys says because of technology, we have to think of our community on a global scale. The last group is 2 girls and a boy. They organize a day where people help clean Liberty Park. It actually seems like the most work out of the 3 projects. They get sweaty and dirty, and it doesn’t look like much fun.
When the video finishes, Mrs. Jensen claps. “And that is only a sample of the great accomplishments by our students in the past few years. And now it’s your turn. When you return to 1st period, you will receive a packet with all the details. There are several deadlines along the way. The 1st is next Friday. By then, you’ll need to have formed a team of 3 or 4 students and selected a teacher mentor to help you through this project. And by the end of the month, your group will identify a situation in our community that can use your help.”
Mrs. Jensen goes on about some of the other rules. The projects can’t be political. Like no handing out flyers for people running for president. We also aren’t allowed to raise money for a cause. We can collect stuff but not cash. And there are rules about religion, too, but they are even more unclear.
Windy grabs my arm when Mrs. Jensen finishes.
“We’ll be a team, right?”
“Sure,” I say. “But we need another person.”
“I’ll find someone. No problem. Then we’re going to change the world.” She says it like she believes it.
“Great.” I want to be excited with her. But I don’t think we’ll even be able to find someone willing to work with us—willing to work with me. And changing the world is a tall order for someone who is just trying to survive each day.