Page 26 of Atticus
Hoseok raises his hand tentatively before adjusting his glasses. “Invest wisely?”
I tap my nose and point at him. “Good one. Do your research and invest money wisely instead of jumping on a trend. What else?”
“Know your surroundings?” Lauren suggests. “They thought the economy was growing, but it wasn’t.”
“That’s ’cause they were all silver spoons,” Jack grumbles.
“What about job security?” Pearl suggests. “There really wasn’t any of that back then.”
“There wasn’t,” I agree with a nod. “But how do you get job security?”
“Easy.” A boy named Brent, a too-lean cohort of Jack’s with bright blue spiked hair that turns his skin as white as a ghost, snickers quietly. “Burn all the androids.”
That makes me frown as the boys bump their knuckles together. “And what will that do?”
Brent shrugs. “They can’t take all our jobs if they aren’t there.”
“Except BioNex is quickly becoming one of the richest corporations in the nation. They can make more,” I respond calmly. The boys know Atticus works in my classroom with me and they’re trying to get me to break, but I refuse to. “So while you’re jobless and serving time for thoughtless property damage, what are some real ways to secure our jobs?”
The children fall quiet. Even Pearl is unsure. Then Vanessa, a pink-haired girl wearing an alternative band T-shirt, speaks up for the first time since I think ever.
“Make yourself invaluable as a worker. If you’re so scared of the robots taking over, learn bionic science.”
I’m pleased with her response. “That’s one way. What else can we do?”
“Pass legislation protecting workers from losing their jobs?” Hoseok suggests.
“Not bad, though that could become extreme. There are drawbacks to having the government intercede for everything. Loopholes almost always occur, complicating things and making things worse for everyone except the very few.”
“Why do we have to do anything?” Pearl asks, put off. “It seems to me it’s just capitalism. I don’t think anyone has anything to worry about.”
“You can say that,” Jack interjects heatedly, “because your daddy’s sitting behind the mayor’s desk at City Hall. Of courseyoudon’t have anything to worry about.”
“Maybe make yourself invaluable,Gunther,” she shoots back.
Saved by the bell. Their argument fades as the other students leap up from their seats, gathering their things.
“Check your syllabuses tonight,” I call to them as they stream out of the classroom, “and complete your work for this class. Mr. Bryant’s not going to buy any excuses that I didn’t tell you what to do for tomorrow.”
Jack Gunther tries to skirt out, but I catch him. “Come here, Jack.”
His head lolls back as he rolls his eyes to the ceiling and slouches, shuffling over to the desk. “What’re you gonna do, give me detention?”
I don’t rise to that remark, scanning his arms a moment. His lanky upper body is covered by his hoodie. Atticus suspects his father might beat him if he comes home and finds out he’s not in school, while his mother does little or nothing to stop it. I’ve seen no evidence to support it, so I can only communicate my suspicions to the state, which doesn’t do much. Not that I trust the state and some of its social workers to do the right thing, either.
I don’t answer that question, folding my hands. “I want you to stop using language like that in the classroom. Full stop.”
“Why?” Jack replies. “Aside from detention, you can’tdoanything to me. Why should I care?”
“Because you’re making yourself look foolish on purpose,” I reply matter-of-factly, watching his face register in surprise. I’m rarely this blunt, but there’s only one way to get through to him. “And deliberately reinforcing harmful stereotypes.”
“Oh yeah?” Jack folds his arms. “What’s that? That I’m trailer trash? Is that what you’re saying?”
“Yep,” I say, leaning forward on the desk again. “And I know for a fact that isn’t what you are.”
He opens his mouth to respond but nothing comes out. “You can’t call me that.”
“I didn’t call you anything. You did.”
