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Nick raised his hand.
“Yes, sir,” said the president.
“Don’t fight,” said Nick.
“Excellent,” said the president.
Lots of hands went up in the air.
“Clean up after yourself,” said Travis.
“Recycle,” said Patsy.
“Brush your teeth,” said Gina.
The president had to think about that one. “It’s important for citizens to try to be clean and healthy,” he agreed.
Marvin thought of some good ideas, too, but he didn’t raise his hand. He’d already gotten to shake the president’s hand. He wanted to let others have a chance. That was part of being a good citizen.
Nearly everybody in the class came up with something: Listen to your teacher and parents. Don’t make fun of people. Put out fires. Don’t cheat. Don’t lie. Smile.
The president said he was very impressed with all the ideas the children had. “This is why I wanted to come to a third-grade class,” he said. “I knew third graders would know how to be good citizens. Sometimes, when people get older, they forget. I hope a lot of people will see and hear you on television this evening. They may learn something.”
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“If you have time, Mr. President, the children have prepared questions,” said Mrs. North.
“Well, I hope I’m prepared to answer them,” said the president. “Now that I’ve met your class, I’m sure they will be very interesting questions.”
Mrs. North had the students take turns coming to the front of the room. They would go by rows.
Marvin sat in the fourth seat of the second row. He counted the people ahead of him. He would be ninth.
Judy Jasper was first.
Mrs. North told her to first say her name and then ask her question. She reminded her to speak loud enough for everyone to hear.
“Judy Jasper!” shouted Judy, causing the president to jump back.
“Not quite so loud,” sai
d Mrs. North.
“Judy Jasper,” said Judy.
“When you were in the third grade, did you know you would be president someday?”
“When I was in the third grade, Judy,” said the president, “I don’t think I even knew there was a president. I was more interested in playing with my friends.”
Judy started to return to her seat, but the president called her back and shook her hand.
Stuart was next. “Stuart Albright,” he said. “What if you don’t like white? Can you paint your house a different color?”
The president laughed.
“The White House doesn’t belong to me. I live there, but it belongs to all of the citizens of our country. And I don’t think they’d like it if I painted it blue with yellow polka dots. Do you, Stuart?”
Stuart’s mouth dropped open. “Uh, I, uh, um, it’s okay with me.”
