9
Sam and I worked at the kitchen table while Elliot drove and Julian returned to the back room to watch the end of his movie. I write best when I’m alone, so that was fine with me. I asked Sam to skim through some of the books Miss Robles was using for her research project to see if she could find any information to use in our document. I was glad I had my glasses with me, because they help me think.
“Listen to this,” Sam said, and read aloud from a book. “Any system that removes the individual from the opportunity for self-growth will have a detrimental effect on that individual and eventually, the world at large.”
“That’s exactly what our school did to us,” I looked up from my papers, adjusting my heart glasses onto my nose. “Sending us away was the best thing they ever did. If only they had included us in the planning, we would’ve created a much better school. One that was closer to our families, too.”
Sam kept reading. “Then it says, ‘The current education model imposes ideals onto the child – ideal behaviors, ideal facts and information, which are in most cases, biased toward what the government has allowed to be exposed in schools.’ What does that mean?”
“Well for one thing, we don’t have freedom of speech in schools. We have it on the street outside school, but not in the actual school building. And there’s no freedom of religion in schools. These are basic rights that all Americans have, except children in school.” I was getting infuriated. This was good, because it fueled my writing fire. Sam kept digging up some amazing and sometimes scary facts. It turns out that Miss Robles was writing a dissertation for her Ph. D. The title of her paper was “Should Seventh Grade Exist?” In it she argued that there was no “seventh grade,” that because of the extreme differences in our growth and development at this age, any attempt to fit us into a standardized mold would fail.
Meanwhile Elliot was up front listening to music (softly, so I could concentrate), and driving along without a care in the world. He had finally found something he loved to do – drive.
“We can go anywhere, now that we’re free,” he said at one point, not to anyone in particular. It was more like he was dreaming aloud, inspired by the open road, and the sunshine that lit the distant horizon.
We traced our original route back, and arrived at Miss Robles’ old campsite. We were prepared for chaos, so we developed a plan of action to avoid any trouble.
First, we hiked back up the wide trail. When we got closer to the buildings, we hid in the woods, and crept around to the back of our little sanctuary. No one was around, so we were able to sneak in without being interrupted.
I found the book that I needed. It was a book about Thomas Jefferson’s life, and in the back was a photocopy of the original Declaration of Independence.
I locked myself into Sam’s room because I needed silence, and the oak desk with the peaceful view of the forest. We couldn’t face our classmates until we had the declaration in our hands, so the other three waited patiently while I drafted the historical document.
I came out at one point carrying the heavy Thomas Jefferson book to say, “We need oak tag.”
“Huh?” It was a group response.
“Oak tag!” I yelled. “The heavy ivory-colored art paper we use. There’s a stack of it in the art room at Community Hall. Someone has to go!”
Elliot thought that he was the best choice because he was not only sneaky and stealthy, but nobody could mess with him when he had his mind made up. So he walked outside to find the paper.
“Get markers, too!” I shouted out the door as he turned down the wooden walkway.
As I turned back inside, I saw Sam and Julian laughing at me. My red, heart-shaped glasses were crooked on my nose, and one of my barrettes had fallen down so far that it was dangling in front of my face. I had not brushed my hair in two days.
“You laugh now,” I said to them sternly. “But some day you’ll be reading books about me!” I walked back to my office.
It did not take long for Elliot to find the paper and sneak it back safely. He handed me my tools, then laid out more supplies on the floor.
“We’re making a flag!” He said to Sam and Julian. “Here, everybody make one, and then we’ll vote which is best.
I was glad they had a project, because I hate to be rushed. My document was done, but the final product had to be flawless. I found a black marker, and hand-wrote the words onto the oak tag paper in my best historical style.
Finally, we were ready to go. We lined up at the door. I held the declaration, and Julian and Elliot held the new flag over their heads. Elliot’s design had won. It was a beautiful flag. A huge yellow seven took up most of the space, surrounded by a light green background. Inside the seven was a giant brown bear with a ferocious-looking snarl and a piece of pizza in his sharp claws.
“Our mascot!” Elliot said, pointing to the bear.
We marched over to the dining hall, ready to face the crowds. Slowly they saw us, and chased after us to find out where we had been and what was happening next. We sent messengers to gather everyone together, and set up the chairs in the dining hall into a grand circle.
Everyone helped as we turned the room into a meeting hall. I found a soda and then prepared a table in front.
Once everyone was there and settled, including Miss Robles, we asked them to quiet down, and Elliot spoke.
“Thank you for coming to meet here in this great hall. We are back to bring you a message. It is something important, and it concerns all of you, so please listen. Even if you don’t want to listen, just be quiet so that other people can hear. But I’m not the best one to tell you this news, so here’s Nines.” He looked over at me with a silent, questioning look to see if I was ready to talk. It would be the first time I had spoken in front of a crowd. In fact, most of the group hadn’t heard me speak much at all, since I had chosen to be so quiet.
I nodded my head yes, and stepped up to the front of the group to speak. There was a reaction from the crowd, a few gasps, Tanya shouted, “Oh my God, Nines is talking!” and Mark yelled out, “Go Ninety-Nines!!”
“Thank you,” I said. I wasn’t nervous. I was filled with excitement. “We came back here to tell you guys about what has been happening to us in school. It’s something that has gone on for years, but we didn’t see it because we were so distracted every day, with all the stuff that went on. I think you will agree with what Sam, Julian, Elliot and I have decided, but you have to decide for yourself, because that is what democracy is all about, freedom of choice, freedom to choose who you are, and what you become.”
I continued. “We believe that our choices were taken away from us at Shadyside School. As students, our inalienable human rights were violated. When we are allowed to be who we are, to study what we want to study, say what we want to say and experience life first hand, conflict disappears, because we’re happy. Happy people don’t fight.”
People agreed, and there were a few quiet conversations in the crowd. I gave them a moment to digest what I had said, then continued on.
“So we have written a declaration to present to the principal of Shadyside School,” I picked up the large, hand-written paper from my table and held it up for all to see. “It is The Declaration of the United Seventh Grade of America. And that’s us.”
Elliot held up the flag and shouted “And this is our flag!”
Everybody cheered. It sounded like a football game. There were high-fives, and people got out of their seats. Finally Elliot had to say quiet down, because I was not about to tackle that noise level. They quieted down, and I stood up front, and read them our new truth. This is the original document, in its entirety. It is now on display in a glass case in the media center lobby, which was renamed The Foyer of the Charter of Freedom. Flash photography is not allowed, to prevent fading.
“The Declaration of the United Seventh Grade of America.
We, The United Seventh Grade, have come together through great adversity and hardship. The adv
ersity we face is not the freedom we have found in the wilderness, but the beliefs and limitations of schooling itself. We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all students are created equal, no matter what their grades or test scores, that we are born with certain unalienable rights, as listed in the three great American Charters of Freedom, including the freedom to explore our world, whether it be the world outside, or the thoughts and feelings which live inside us.
We believe that since our government derives its ‘powers from the consent of the people’ as Thomas Jefferson wrote, a school should derive its powers from the consent of the students. Otherwise, this nation will never know the creative potential of future generations. It is our duty to protect future seventh graders from the hardships we endured.
Since the situation we face at school has become destructive, it is our right to alter or abolish it and begin a new United Seventh Grade, created for the people and by the people, a place where our childhood is not spent in suffering and punishment, but is a time of growth, when we are allowed to explore this world which has been withheld from our view. We want only to know the truth about life. Anything less will only lead to more confusion. If life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness are the inheritance of all Americans, then it’s time that we experienced it for ourselves in school, which is the very government institution that shapes the future of society.
Principal McThorn is a despot; he should be replaced with a principal chosen by the students and for the students. The facts of his absolute tyranny include:
He has exiled the seventh grade in an unsafe manner to be killed by bears, each other, and murderous computers.
He has lied to parents about the whereabouts of their children.
He has repeatedly forced students to undergo annual state testing that made some students cry, throw up, or worse, stay back a year in school.
He has denied us the privileges known to sixth and eighth graders.
He has deprived us of a true education, which is the right and opportunity to learn who we are, and what our role is in this world.
Therefore, we, The United Seventh Grade of America, assembled here this day, declare ourselves an independent school, free to learn the truth, and absolved from all allegiance to Shadyside School. As a free and independent school, we will create our own community of learners, governed by the adults as signed below. And with this newly gained freedom, we promise to the world, that we will become the best seventh grade that America has ever seen.”
I looked up at a silent room of frozen faces. Samantha was crying, and wiping her nose with a beverage napkin. When I looked at her she started laughing, and with that, everyone else jumped out of their chairs and started to cheer. People ran up and grabbed me and started to hug me. Then Mark picked me up and held me in the air like I was the Queen of Sheba. Miss Robles was crying, and everybody was so happy. It was one of those great moments in history that will never be forgotten.
“But wait, you have to sign!” I yelled above the crowd. It took a while to get everyone to settle down and some people yelled, “Shut up!” which didn’t exactly flatter our new nation, but got the job done.
With Mark’s help, we got everyone to stand in a line, and found enough markers so that each student could sign in their own choice of color, then keep the pen as a souvenir.
As we were doing this, Miss Robles gathered cookies and soda from the kitchen and set them up at a table, so that we could celebrate once the signing was done. Elliot and I went over to her, while Sam and Julian monitored the official signing.
Elliot reached into his pocket and took out the keys to the Independence. He held them out to Miss Robles and said, “I’m sorry I stole your RV. We were planning to come back and get you eventually.”
She took the keys. “I forgive you, Elliot. In fact, it looks like you are a better driver than I am. I’m the one who put all those dents in it,” she said kindly.
“I guess you have to drive us back,” he told her.
She looked at him questioningly, with one of her eyebrows up and the other one down.
“Back to Shadyside,” I added, in case she had forgotten where we all came from.
A look of comprehension came over her face, and then she started to laugh.
“Oh, I get it. You know what, Elliot? I don’t see any reason why you can’t drive everyone back yourself. Just keep the speed limit, and you won’t get caught.”
Elliot and I looked at her like she was insane. I began to think that her time in the woods had made her mental.
“You want to stay here?” I asked, astonished.
She laughed again. “No, Nines. Just tell Mr. Crane where I am. He’ll send someone up to get me.” Then she whispered, “Besides, you guys are beginning to stink!” She squeezed her hand over her nose. I had to agree with her, but honestly, it was more the boys than the girls.
Miss Robles seemed unusually relaxed. The mountain was a beautiful place, especially now that she had real buildings to use instead of just her tent. She could finish writing her paper up here. It would be perfectly quiet when we were gone. I decided that I would show her the sanctuary room with the beautiful desk that had been so good to me.
“So what happens when I pull into the school parking lot? They’ll get me there,” Elliot asked seriously. There had to be a way for us to make it work out. The plan had to be seamless, with no room for trouble.
“Ditch the keys and say Jason drove you,” she suggested. “After all, he is sort of invisible.”
I liked the way she thought! As long as everyone would agree to honor our plan, it was the perfect solution!
“Miss Robles, we need an adult to sign the Declaration to make it official. That way we can be home schooled.”
“Your parents will sign, Nines. I’m sure of it. And, I don’t think the state will use this one as law.” I got her point. Our new school would be a community effort. The events of that day were like planting the first seeds.
Once the signing was done, we hung the Declaration on the wall. People gathered around to read it, and I heard some nice comments, which was a new, motivating feeling. Word spread that we would gather our things up, organize camp throughout the afternoon, and leave for home in the morning.