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“Here’s what I think, Dad. I think you look pretty ridiculous with a milk mustache.”
My dad smiles, then seems like he wants to say more. I don’t let him.
“I gotta go finish my homework,” I say. I snatch his empty milk glass and quickly walk out of the room.
THE KIDS ATschool, they just won’t let go of it—the story of the shooting.
In American history we’re learning about the Revolutionary War. My cool, young history teacher, Mr. Nakleh, wants to start a discussion about the battle of Fort Ticonderoga. But before he can even flash the first image on the screen, A-Train’s friend, Dunny Moore, yells out, “Here’s an idea. Why don’t we talk about what’s happening right now?”
A-Train does the follow-up shout-out.
“Yeah, like why that pig Jeremy Hanson is walking the streets with a pistol by his side.”
I can’t make myself stay out of it. But my first punch barely lands.
“Hey, A. That Hanson cop is on desk leave, ‘pending investigation,’” I say, and I immediately realize after a few groans and boos that I sound like the nerd-ball from hell.
“Pending investigation, pending investigation, pending-like-anyone-really-cares,” says the girl who sits in front of me, the girl named TaTa, like ingood-bye.
“You know the cop’s going to get off.”
The next kid to speak up is Louie Williams, the not-so-talented point guard on our basketball team.
To my amazement, Louie Williams actually gives a different point of view.
“You all, listen. This cop shot a gang member. You got that? This was a gang. They didn’t show up to watch a Wizards game. They showed up to fight, to kill. Kick me if you wanna, but I’m voting with Ali on this.”
A-Train gives a nasty laugh, then says, “Hey, Louie. Is your dad a cop, too?”
This whole little shouting match takes about twenty seconds, and I can’t believe that Mr. Nakleh, who’s young but can very easily be a hard-ass when he wants to, lets it go on this long.
No more waiting. Our teacher claps into action.
“Okay, if you’re standing, sit down! If you’re in this room, quiet down!” he shouts.
The class pretty much obeys, at least as much as we ever do.
“This whole Southeast thing is getting bigger and bigger, and I want to help focus on it, try to bring some sense to it, before it gets too big,” Mr. Nakleh says.
A-Train shouts out again.
“Listen, man, if the police admitted that they…”
Mr. Nakleh outshouts him.
“I’m talking. So you are not talking. If you have a problem with that, leave the classroom right now.”
A-Train does stop yelling. And Mr. Nakleh continues.
“Listen. The school is aware that there is a lot of discussion, and disagreement, about the events last week with the gang bust and the police shooting. Yeah, everyone on both sides is very hot and angry. So it seems that maybe the time has come to have a more formal, and I might add, a more respectful conversation about what’s happening. As you all know, Ms. Swanbeck is the moderator of the debate team. She suggests…”
This time TaTa interrupts.
“Let me guess. Ms. Swanbeck suggests a debate.”
Mr. Nakleh snaps at TaTa, “You can move on out of the room, too, if you can’t keep quiet.”
“Sorry,” says TaTa. Then quickly adds, “I’m just fed up with the cops.”
