I took the cap off my special black ink pen and started to write. “First we’ll dial our BSC clients and ask if their kids are interested in taking our class.”
Stacey crossed her fingers. “And hopefully the kids will be so excited about the idea that they’ll all sign up.”
“Then we’ll find out what days are free for them,” I continued.
“Terrific.” Stacey held her dialing finger over the phone buttons. “Who should I start with?”
“Try Kristy’s house,” I suggested. “We can tell her about the idea and see if David Michael is interested.”
While Stacey dialed, I listed the names of several of our clients in my notebook. Then I drew a line across the top and wrote down the days of the week. I figured I’d put an X on the days the kids were available. Then we’d be able to decide which day we should hold our class.
“Kristy? It’s me, Stacey. Dawn and I are working on the best idea in the world.” Stacey paused for a second and then rolled her eyes at me. “Okay, the second best idea in the world. The BSC was the best idea.”
I giggled and put my ear beside the receiver to hear the rest of their conversation. Stacey explained about the project for Mrs. Gonzalez’s class to Kristy.
“So what I want to know is,” Stacey finished, “do you think David Michael would like to attend?”
“Of course he would,” Kristy said enthusiastically. “But he’s not home right now. Tell me where it’s going to be. I’ll ask him about it.”
“Where’s it going to be?” Stacey’s eyes suddenly widened. “Gee. Dawn and I hadn’t even thought about that. Hold on a second.”
Stacey put her hand over the mouthpiece and the two of us held a hasty conference. “Do you want it to be at your house?” she asked.
I shook my head. “I think it should be at your house because you’re more centrally located.”
“Good idea.” Stacey spoke into the phone once more. “Kristy, we’re going to hold the classes at my house. I’m sure my mom won’t mind. We haven’t decided on a date yet, but we wanted to find out what days were best for the kids.”
“Wednesdays or Thursdays are best for David Michael,” Kristy replied.
I was still listening at the receiver. Now I marked two Xs on my new chart.
Then Kristy threw us for another loop. “How will he get to the class and home again?” she asked.
Stacey’s eyes, which had grown big before, were now huge. “Uh, just a sec and I’ll talk to Dawn.” She covered the receiver with her hand and whispered, “How are the kids going to get to my house? David Michael lives all the way across town.”
I looked down at the chart for a moment, and then said, “Let me talk to Kristy.” Stacey handed me the phone and I said, “Hi, Kristy, it’s me. Listen, if we held the class on Wednesdays, David Michael could walk to Stacey’s with us after school and then ride back with you after the BSC meeting.”
“What would he do during our meeting?” Kristy asked logically.
“Maybe he could wait in the Kishis’ living room,” I suggested. “Or maybe we could ask someone else to take him home earlier.”
I must have sounded pretty uncertain because Kristy promptly said, “Look, why don’t you guys work out some of the details and call us back later. By that time David Michael should be home.”
“Okay. ’Bye.” I hung up the phone and gasped, “Boy, do I feel stupid. We started making our calls without working out important details like where the classes are going to be.”
Stacey looked as embarrassed as I felt. “It’s a good thing we called Kristy first. Otherwise the parents would have thought we were real airheads.”
I looked at my notepad once again. “Is there anything else we forgot?”
“Well, we never did decide how long the class would be,” Stacey said, studying my list.
“I think it should be an hour. From 3:30 to 4:30. Any longer and the kids will get restless.”
We agreed to find out who would need transportation. “That way we can make a list and then maybe ask your mom or mine to help carpool,” I finished.
After only an hour of dialing clients, we found eleven members for our class: Charlotte Johanssen, Becca Ramsey, David Michael Thomas, Karen and Andrew Brewer, Buddy and Suzi Barrett, Nicky and Vanessa Pike, and Hannie and Linny Papadakis. And because the Papadakises live across the street from David Michael, Mrs. Papadakis offered to drive the kids who needed a ride to the classes. Things were working out perfectly.
Stacey checked the list and said, “Only one more family to call, the Kormans. Do you want to do it?”
“Sure.” I dialed quickly and when Mrs. Korman answered, I started my speech. By now I’d said it so many times I was feeling like a real pro.
“Hi, Mrs. Korman, this is Dawn Schafer. Stacey McGill and I are going to be teaching an ecology class one day a week after school. This class will last an hour and is aimed at elementary school age children. Stacey and I are doing it as a project for our school but we feel very strongly that you’re never too young to start protecting our planet. It’s important for everyone to know that we can make a difference.”
As I spoke Stacey gave me a big smile. She was obviously impressed by my speech. I explained to Mrs. Korman about the six classes, and how they were absolutely free, and also about the Green Fair. I don’t know what came over me but I added a new touch.
“Our Green Fair will serve two purposes,” I declared. “It will help tell people about ecology and what’s happening to the environment, and it will also be a way to raise money for an organization, which we will choose later, that helps save the planet.”
Stacey whispered, “What a brilliant idea.”
It was hard to stay calm during the rest of the conversation.
“We’re very proud of our project, Mrs. Korman,” I said, hoping my voice didn’t sound too excited. “I’ll call you back and let you know the exact date and time of the class by tomorrow afternoon.”
I hung up the phone and announced, “Well, that does it. Thirteen kids for our class.”
“Lucky thirteen.” Stacey giggled. “I love it that the Green Fair will also be a fundraiser for an environmental organization.”
I grinned. “If our project goes right, we’ll be showing not just our school but all of Stoneybrook that we are concerned enough about our community to do something to change it.”
“All right, Dawn!” Stacey applauded enthusiastically and I hopped off the bed and took a bow. If this was how our project was going to go, I couldn’t wait for it to get started.
“The first meeting of the Save the Planet class is officially called to order,” Stacey announced to the thirteen children sitting cross-legged on her living room floor.
“Yay!” Buddy Barrett led the applause. I knew we could count on him to be an enthusiastic student.
After calling roll, Stacey gestured to me and said, “Dawn will pass out the special badges we want you to wear during our classes.”
Stacey and I had spent an hour cutting out cardboard circles at her house. Then we used glitter ink to write the words KIDS CARE on them.
“These will be a constant reminder to ourselves and to our parents,” she told the kids, “that what we are doing is important.”
After Stacey and I finished pinning the badges on the kids, I stepped back up to the front of the group. All of a sudden I felt a little nervous. I’d never actually taught a class before. I looked down at my notebook, where Stacey and I had carefully plotted out every second of the class. “First, I want to ask you a question,” I began. “Do you think our world is clean?”
Becca Ramsey waved her hand frantically in the air.
Stacey grinned. “Becca?”
Becca, who is eight and a half, stood up and said, very seriously, “Yes, except where there is dirt, like under our lawn or at the park.”
It was hard not to giggle at her reply but Stacey and I managed to keep a straight face. Then nine-year-old Bill Korman said, “
It’s clean when it rains and everything gets washed.”
Charlotte Johanssen, whose mother is a doctor, raised her hand. “But the world is not always clean. Sometimes the air gets dirty from the smoke that comes out of factories and cars.”
“That’s right,” I said. “Our world may look clean and shiny, like after a rainfall, but things float around in the air that make it very dirty. And it’s not just dirt like the kind you find under your lawn. This dirt can come in all shapes and sizes.”
“Like trash on the side of the road,” Stacey chimed in.
“Or it can appear in water,” I added. “Have any of you ever seen a shiny film on the water in a creek?”
Linny Papadakis nodded vigorously. “I have. And sometimes I’ve even seen this foam that looks like bubble bath floating on the top of it.”
Stacey and I exchanged concerned looks. “The shiny film is oil that shouldn’t be there,” I explained. “And the foam is probably soap coming from homes or factories. They’re both bad for the water and the fish that try to live in the water. It’s like poison to them.”
“Oh, no!” Becca Ramsey gasped in alarm.
“This dirt is called pollution,” Stacey said. “Can everyone say it?”
“Plushun!” Andrew Brewer called out.
“Po-lu-ton,” Suzi Barrett said, giggling.
Stacey and I smiled at each other. Even if they couldn’t pronounce the word, the kids seemed very enthusiastic about what could have been a boring subject.
“Pollution comes in all kinds of forms,” I continued. “Sometimes it’s invisible. Does anybody know what that means?”
Vanessa raised her hand. “Invisible means you can’t see it. Like ghosts.”
“Ghosts!”
This set off a rumbling among the younger members of the group, especially Andrew, who is only four. He looked over his shoulder and muttered, “I don’t like ghosts.”
I hurried to get them back on track. “This pollution isn’t a ghost but it can be scary. It’s scary because it hurts things.”
Stacey nodded. “It gets in the water we drink. It gets in the air we breathe and makes us cough. It even goes way up in the sky and tears a hole in a special layer of gas called ozone that circles the earth. The ozone protects us from the hot, hot rays of the sun.”
“You mean, we could get sunburned without it?” Hannie Papadakis asked, wide-eyed.
“That’s right,” I replied. “We could get sunburned, and so would everything on the planet. And if the ozone layer disappears, we’ll just get hotter and hotter.”
“That’s terrible,” Vanessa Pike murmured.
“It is terrible,” I agreed. “But this class is going to teach you ways to stop that from happening.”
“We’re going to teach you ways to save the animals, the water, the air, and the ozone layer,” Stacey said.
“And we’re going to tell you what to do with the trash you find along the side of the road,” I added.
“I know what to do with that,” Nicky Pike said, rolling his eyes. “You throw it away.”
“That’s one way to help clean up the earth,” Stacey said. “But we’ve found an even better thing to do with that trash.”
I pointed to our first poster and read the title out loud. “Recycle.”
“Hey, I know what that means.” Buddy hopped up from where he was sitting and joined Stacey and me at the front of the living room. “Recycling means reusing things.” Then he turned to me and whispered, “Right?”
“Right,” I whispered back.
Stacey pointed to a drawing she’d made on the poster. It showed the earth covered in a huge mound of garbage. “If we just keep throwing things away, our garbage dumps will get so huge there won’t be any room for us to move. The garbage could take over the planet.”
I held up a collage I had made of things that can be recycled. I’d cut pictures out of magazines and glued them on poster board. It wasn’t as artistically designed as if Claudia had made it but I think it was okay.
“Some things can be used over and over again,” I said, “like glass and aluminum cans and paper. So instead of throwing them away — what should we do?”
All of the kids shouted, “Recycle them!” (They were getting into the shouting part of the class.)
“Right,” Stacey agreed. “Now, how many things can you name that are made of glass?”
“Bottles!” Nicky Pike called out.
“Good,” I said. “What else?”
The kids shouted out their answers all at once. “Mirrors! TVs! Plates! Windows! Windshields! Light bulbs! Eyeglasses! Computer screens!” The list seemed endless.
“Did you know,” Stacey began after everyone had quieted down, “we throw away twenty-eight billion bottles and jars each year?”
“Is that a lot?” Andrew Brewer asked.
“It’s more than you could ever count.” I chuckled.
Vanessa raised her hand. “But where are we supposed to recycle our bottles?”
Stacey and I exchanged looks. We only knew of one place and that was not nearby.
“Right now Stoneybrook has just one recycling center, down near the courthouse,” I explained. “But it’s kind of far for us to walk to. Your parents will have to drive you there.”
“What if they can’t?” Suzi Barrett asked.
I paused. “That’s a good question, Suzi. Stacey and I will have to work on that.”
I made a note in my book to find out why there weren’t more recycling centers in Stoneybrook. Meanwhile Stacey explained our first project to the group.
“Okay, kids,” she said. “Today we’re going to dig a hole in my backyard and bury some —”
“Treasures?” David Michael asked, excitedly.
Stacey laughed. “Some of the things we bury will turn out to be treasures. The other stuff won’t. Follow me.”
The kids scrambled into the McGills’ kitchen where Stacey and I had set our supplies on the kitchen counter.
“What do you see here?” Stacey asked the group.
Charlotte wrinkled her nose. “An apple core, one that’s already turning brown.”
Stacey nodded. “What else?”
“Some bunny food,” Suzi Barrett said, pointing at a leaf of lettuce.
“That’s correct,” Stacey said, laughing. “And?”
“An old cup,” Bill Korman said.
“But that’s not just any kind of cup,” I said, joining the group in the kitchen. “That cup is made of Styrofoam.”
“That’s the stuff that squeaks when you bite into it,” Linny Papadakis pointed out.
Just thinking about squeaking Styrofoam sent shivers down my spine. “And what is this last item?” I asked.
“Garbage,” Becca Ramsey said, holding up the wrapping from a box of cookies.
“That’s right,” I said. “This is plastic.”
“Now we’re all going to go outside and bury these,” Stacey said.
Melody Korman raised her hand. “But why?”
“Because we’re going to find out which items are biodegradable,” I replied. Blank stares followed that announcement, so I quickly explained, “That means they’ll dissolve back into the earth and become good garbage. The things that aren’t biodegradable will just sit there.”
“So we’re going to bury these four items,” Stacey continued, “and then in a couple of weeks we’ll dig them up and see which ones are still there.”
“All right, here’s a shovel,” Buddy Barrett cried, grabbing the gardening trowel lying on the kitchen counter. “I want to carry it.”
“No.” Nicky Pike grabbed for it. “I want to.”
“Let me!” Karen Brewer hopped up and down, waving her hand in my face.
Suddenly, everyone in the room was shouting at once. For a second I was certain we’d never calm them down. Thinking fast, Stacey grabbed a whistle from a junk drawer in the kitchen and blew on it hard.
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“In order for us to save the planet,” she said in a very calm voice, “we have to work together. That means taking turns.”
I did some quick arithmetic in my head, then made the assignments. “Buddy, Charlotte, Becca, David Michael, and Melody will carry these items to the backyard.” The five kids cheered but fell silent when they saw Stacey get ready to blow her whistle again. “Then Linny, Bill, Nicky, and Vanessa will dig the holes.”
The four kids beamed at each other.
“And then,” I went on, “Hannie, Suzi, Karen, and Andrew will bury the items.”
There were big smiles all around the room. Stacey and I gave each other quick looks of relief.
We marched the kids into the garden and each one performed his job. When the last bit of dug-up dirt had been placed on the last hole, the kids packed it down with their feet. It was really cute. (I think stomping the dirt was their favorite part of the whole class.)
Finally Stacey placed labels attached to garden stakes over each spot. Lettuce, Plastic, Apple, and Styrofoam. The kids stood by, proudly admiring their handiwork.
“All right, everybody,” I said, “that’s it for our first class. Stay tuned for next week when we’ll become water leak detectives and start planning our Green Fair.”
“Green fairies?” Suzi Barrett repeated.
“No.” I chuckled. “Fair. Green Fair. Which is kind of an ecology carnival.”
“You mean, like a talent show, with animal acts?” Becca sounded excited. Once she entered a pet show, and her hamster, Misty, had won best all-around pet.
“Let me try,” Stacey whispered. She clasped her hands in front of her and said, “Each week we’ll do a different experiment. At the end of six weeks, we’ll put on a Green Fair, with booths to display the results of our experiments, and also to teach our neighbors what we’ve learned.”
“In the meantime —” I pointed to our badges. “What do we tell our parents and friends?”
All the children shouted at once, “Kids Care!”
I checked my watch. Exactly one hour had gone by. Now it was time to return the kids to their homes, which was almost as complicated as planning the class. Mrs. Papadakis was going to take the Kormans, David Michael, and Hannie and Linny home. The Pike kids could just walk through Stacey’s backyard to their house. Stacey and I would escort the others home.