Page 5 of In This Moment
The bell rang and Wendell stood a little taller.
Here we go.
He stayed on the stage as the students dragged themselves in. One by one, group by group they came, backpacks flung over their shoulders, their faces etched with anger and indifference, fear and disinterest. Only a few of them talked or laughed as they took their seats.
Teachers joined them, filling the rows in the back of the room. He watched Alicia enter with two English teachers.Please, God, give her peace.Wendell sighed.Ease her anxious heart.
The second bell should’ve signaled a full auditorium, all the students in their seats. But Wendell could see that one in four seats were still open. The seniors, probably. Last year during the first-day-of-school assembly, half the seniors hung out in the parking lot—some openly smoking pot and drinking. Wendell had laid down the law after that. Anyone caught missing future assemblies would have detention for a week.
But the kids didn’t care.
There wasn’t a single reason they would come to detention. What could Wendell do to them? They would have to care about their high school experience before they would care about detention.
Typically, Wendell wore a button-down cotton shirt, sleeves rolled to the elbow. Not today. For the unveiling of his plan, Wendell wore a suit. Gray pinstripes. Never mind that right now it felt like a straitjacket. He wanted the students to know he was serious.
Wendell took the handheld mic and made his way to the front center of the stage. “Good morning!” He kept his voice cheerful. Something he’d learned from Les Green. “This isn’t any ordinary school year, people. This year everything is going to change at Hamilton High.”
It was impossible not to notice the dozens of boys slumped in their seats, hoodies and baseball caps pulled low over their eyes, or the girls on their phones. There were rules against these things, but none of them seemed to care.
Wendell stayed patient. He told them about the new bell schedule and how after-school tutoring would be available this year. “A teacher from each department will stay for one hour Monday, Wednesday and Friday in the Four Hundred Building. You can show up for help anytime you wish.”
A few more announcements and it was time. The plan had to be revealed. To kick it off, Wendell had created a short film. Only four minutes long, it was a recap of everything wrong and heartbreaking about Hamilton High. Factual information, nothing more. Produced in a way that some students might actually pay attention.
“I’d like you to watch a video.” Wendell pointed to the screen overhead. In the back of the room a skirmish broke out. Two male students shoved each other and then quickly wound up on the floor in a brawl.
Students all around the incident were on their feet, yelling at the two, cheering them on.
“Enough!” Wendell stared at the back row. Even with a mic, he wasn’t getting their attention. “That’s enough!” He looked to the nearest teacher. “Please take them to the office. Keep them there.” The other students were still standing, still watching as two teachers rushed in. They broke up the fight and finally walked the kids out of the auditorium. Wendell lowered his voice. “Sit down. All of you.”
Gradually, the students obeyed until everyone was seated and generally facing the stage again. “Okay.” Wendell couldn’t believe things were going so poorly. He needed to get the video up and running. “Take a look at the screen.”
Someone lowered the house lights and pushed play. The video began with a burst of statistics. Dreary, gut-wrenching statistics. The Hamilton gang violence, the drug abuse, the suicides. The transition shot read: “Those are the statistics. These are the stories.”
Using images from the yearbook and photos taken by students in Alicia’s journalism class, the rest of the film was a more personal look at the losses from the previous year. Rasha Carter, a sophomore. About to walk home from school last January, killed in an exchange of gunfire between two rival gangs. She never even made it past the school parking lot before she was killed.
The footage showed Rasha alive and happy, talking about her dreams and laughing with friends. But it was followed with video coverage of her funeral. The day the girl’s future was buried with her at the cemetery.
Wendell heard a few sniffles coming from somewhere in the front row. That was when he saw he had their attention. Not everyone. Still plenty of students hanging their heads, sleeping through the moment or too busy on their phones to care. But a few girls in the front were crying, and gradually students were tuning in.
The film continued with additional clips of the other students who’d died last year, followed by a montage of news headlines featuring Hamilton High’s worst criminal element. The video ended with the quote from Alexander Hamilton.Those who stand for nothing... fall for anything.
Wendell waited for the lights to come on. The room was quiet. Not much, but something of an improvement. “That was the old Hamilton High School.” He looked around. “Today you are sitting in the auditorium of the new Hamilton High.”
He spotted Alicia. Even from so far away he could feel her support, her prayers. She wouldn’t stand beside him in this season. But however afraid this made her, in her heart she would always be for him. Wendell knew that.
Determination flooded his veins and stirred his voice. “This school was named after one of our founding fathers—Alexander Hamilton. He was a man of faith and conviction. A man who did not believe in wasting his chance.”
Wendell noticed a kid in the fourth row roll his eyes and whisper something to the girl next to him. Wendell pressed on. He could tell them about the club, tell them about the reason for the club. But this was where he needed to be most careful. Especially during school hours. “From now on you have the choice to be people who do not believe in wasting your chance, either.” He paused.Facts, Wendell... stick to the facts.“There will be a voluntary after-school program called Raise the Bar. I want to stress that this program is voluntary. But the goal of the program is to change your life.”
Wendell didn’t need notes. “Raise the Bar will be a time of looking into the Bible for wisdom and direction. I will lead each session, and afterward, there will be a time of prayer.” He hesitated.
There was so much more he wanted to say. If he could, he would tell them how miracles could happen if they would take their troubles to God. And how it was his belief not only as a Christian but as an educator that Hamilton High needed redemption.
But even without his saying any of that, muffled laughter came from a group of freshman boys at the right side of the auditorium.
Wendell ignored them.
He wanted to tell them how statistics showed that faith in God improves test scores and a student’s outlook on life and school. Instead, he chose his words with great intention. He didn’t tell them that Scripture backed those statistics. Or that God promised in the book of Jeremiah that He had great plans for the students.
