What Every Student Deserves

It was nearly 4:15 in the afternoon. School had just released and the remaining students were just walking out the doors. I was in the library, waiting for mother to pick me up. While I was waiting I was talking to Mrs. Strader, one of the assistant librarians sitting behind the circulation desk. The library was quite that afternoon. A few students were on the computers, others were sitting at the tables doing homework, text messaging on their cell phones, or just waiting around for a ride home like I was. I was ready to get out go home. It was Thursday and the laziest day of the week was just around the corner. After that: the weekend. But after today, I will never again feel that way. I will want to stay and fight for something that every student deserves.

Mrs. Strader and I were discussing the days events together when a short freshmen that I had seen a few times ago in the hallway came through the doors. He was wearing an orange t-shirt untucked from his blue jeans. Like most of the other freshmen that year, his blond hair was long; down to the bottoms of ears and slightly covering his eyes.  He looked a little lost so I stopped talking to prepare an answer if he asked us a question. The kid stared around the library for a moment, as if he was searching for someone.

         “Can we help you?” Mrs. Strader asked.

         “Yeah,” he said with a quiet voice, “where’s the ECO room?”

         ECO was my high school’s version of afterschool detention. It lasted until half-past seven and the students were expected to work on homework or projects until that time. I had never been in ECO before, but I knew that it couldn’t be any fun. I had looked at the clocked to check the time after he ask the question. Seeing as it was already a quarter past the hour, he was late. “It’s next to the cop-shop,” I said. “It’ll be the room to the left.”

         “Thanks,” he responded and turned to walk out the door.

         My own curiosity got the better of me and I couldn’t help but ask, “What did you get in trouble for?”

         He turned around, but continued walking backwards towards the doors, holding his backpack straps with both hands and lifting his head up. “I tried to buy food with my friend’s ID card, even though I had his permission.”

         After the doors closed behind him and the library was quiet again, I turned around to Mrs. Strader and said, “You know, I’m sick and tired of the way this school is handling these stupid situations. I mean, the kid had his friend’s permission and yet they throw him in ECO until late at night!” All she could do was nod while I continued with my rant. “You know what this school needs? A court. It needs a student court system with a jury, a judge, and counselors. Half of this school’s disciplinary power needs to be given to the students themselves so their peers can judge them. It would be far more fair!”

         Mrs. Strader smiled and said, “You know what, Paul, you’re absolutely right. You should do that, you should start one up. I can totally see you being one of those student lawyers.”

         I smiled and just kind of let it go, realizing what I was saying was a mere fantasy. Nothing like that could ever happen. But I had to do something about it. Later that night, after finally getting home to relax. I sat down in front of my laptop and opened up Microsoft Word. I began to just type. I didn’t know what I wanted to say, but I just said it. I began to write a story about a young man that attended a high school that actually had a student court system. He stood and fought for what was right. He stuck up for those that were defenseless when it came to facing the puppeteers that controlled the schools around America. I targeted one thing: Zero Tolerance; a policy that corrupted the thinking of every administrator on every school board. I talked to my father, an aspiring lawyer who was able to help me with the criteria that needed to be present in the story in order for it to make credible sense. With his help, and the help of research that I have gathered ever since, I was able to construct four different parts to a novel over sixty thousand words long. I have dedicated each and every word to a cause that will only gain hope if students were to wake up and realize that are being controlled.

         Their rights are being ignored. Due process is suspended whenever the school accuses them of doing something wrong. But that time will soon come to an end. I look back on that day when that young boy, named Cody, walked into the library. He was guilty of a crime that he did not commit. He had no intent to commit it, nor did he realize that what he was doing was against the school’s code of conduct. He tried to buy food, something that the school district has guaranteed to all students, with his friends ID card and permission. Cody was not given a proper investigation, nor was he given a chance to appeal. Those are two major signs that there is something wrong with the school’s decisions on disciplining their students. Charles Marshall, my main character and narrator in the story, fights his way through a war against barbarism and ignorant thinking. He fights on the side of all the kids in Cody’s position…and so do I.