studentcouncil

[studentcouncil]

Chapter 1

MONDAY, AUGUST 10

23 DAYS UNTIL ELECTION DAY

There it is. Finally. Ms. Baker’s homeroom. These textbooks are breaking my back.

Ms. Baker is a cheery lady whose voice fills the room as soon as I enter. “Welcome, welcome, welcome! Come, find your seat.” Unfortunately, she does not offer to help with my giant boulder.

It’s fine. I find the locker labeled “Sy Ziller” (yours truly), hurl my backpack inside, and quickly find my assigned place as the entire class watches. Late on the first day of school. Not a great look.

Thankfully, Ms. Baker ignores my tardiness. “I’m so happy to see so many new faces!” she exclaims. “I know this will be a great year. You’re in a new place and change can be hard, but I’m here to make your transition to middle school easy breezy. Here’s lesson number one. Always remember the Three S’s for Successes: Study, Sleep, and Second Helpings.” Ms. Baker points to a laminated sign listing the Three S’s as she sings them with gusto.

I overslept this morning and missed breakfast, so although I’m well rested, the mention of second helpings turns my stomach into an angry bear. The girl to my left turns and shoots a cold stare. The growling must have frightened her.

“Ms. Baker, I think it’s time for Wake Up Wildcats,” a boy in the front row says.

“Well, James. Right you are!” Ms. Baker grabs the remote, and the classroom television awakens from its own summer slumber.

Towards the end of fifth grade, we visited Ellis Arnall Middle School in order to prepare for our next adventure in education. One thing we learned is that middle school has a lot of cool extracurricular activities and clubs. Wake Up Wildcats is one of them. It’s a morning show produced by students. The whole thing – hosting the show, working the cameras, setting the lights, writing the scripts. It’s pretty cool, and when young James asked about it, I was excited to watch my first episode.

The intro is rolling. There’s an aerial shot of the school and then images of students in class, playing soccer, sculpting flower vases, and performing in orchestra.

“This is Wake Up Wildcats from Studio 1Z with Frank Papatakis and Charlotte Winston,” announces a voice as the camera focuses on the news desk.

“Wake up, Wildcats! Today is Monday, August 10, and it’s the first day of the new school year! I’m Frank Papatakis.”

“And, I’m Charlotte Winston. It’s great to be with you on a beautiful Monday morning. We hope you’re as jazzed about the new school year as we are. Let’s start as usual with a look at today’s headlines. Here’s our trusty correspondent, Erica Burton.”

“Thanks, Frank and Charlotte. Good morning again, Wildcats.” Wake Up Wildcats is so well produced. You know on the news when the anchor is telling a story and there’s a graphic above her shoulder matching the story? Like, if it’s a story about the annual Thanksgiving Day Parade, there’s a picture from the parade on screen. Wake Up Wildcats has graphics like this. The first graphic above Erica’s shoulder shows kids running through the halls of Ellis Arnall in panic. Hm. Wonder what that’s about.

“Good news for the ophidiophobes amongst us. Over the summer, Ms. Simpson finally caught her boa constrictor Gus. It turns out, he was hiding in the boys’ locker room all along. Ms. Simpson has promised to keep the cage door closed from now on, so we shouldn’t have another scare this year. If you were worried when you returned to school this morning, you can rest assured that you’re in a snake free school. Or at least a school where the snakes don’t roam the halls!”

Erica continues with her next story. “This Friday is the season opener for your Ellis Arnall Wildcats. The football game against the Morristown Mammoths will begin at 6:00PM. Last year, Morristown won on a last second field goal. We need all of your school spirit, so get to the stadium early and bring your loudest voices. The first 100 students at the game will receive a special Wildcats rally tail to wear on the bum. The tail is sponsored by Teri’s Ice Cream, your neighborhood spot for the freshest ice cream served by the friendliest faces.”

Another change in graphics. “With the start of a new school year, we have some new faces to welcome to the Wildcats faculty. First is Ms. June Simmons. Ms. Simmons will be teaching sixth grade English. She can’t wait to explain Shakespeare and extol the importance of the oxford comma to all of you. Next, Monsieur François Croissant. Monsieur Croissant comes to Ellis Arnall all the way from Paris, France and will be teaching, you guessed it, French. Finally, Coach Chipper Gant is joining the PE staff and will also manage the baseball team this spring.”

Monsieur Croissant? You’ve got to be kidding me! What a name! Looks like Erica is done with the news as she looks over to Frank and Charlotte. “Guys, we’re happy to have such fantastic additions to our faculty.”

Frank looks into the camera. “Wildcats, when you see these new teachers, make sure to give each one a hearty Wildcat welcome. Show Ms. Simmons, Monsieur Croissant, and Coach Gant our true colors.” Charlotte turns to Frank. “Speaking of those true colors, do you know anyone who exemplifies them better than our guy Bo?” These two are real pros. They act like best friends and make the morning pleasant.

“No. No, I don’t!” Frank answers.

Charlotte sends us to the next segment. “It’s that time. Let’s go to Bo Norris in our cafeteria for today’s lunch menu.” The shot switches to Bo standing in the cafeteria. He’s wearing a loud plaid shirt, which perfectly foreshadows his energy. “Goooooooooooooooooood morning, Wildcats! Man, oh, man, that felt good. Frank, Charlotte, it’s great to be back here in the cafeteria. I’ve missed you crazy kids.”

“And, we’ve missed seeing you, Bo. How was your summer?” asks Frank.

“Great summer! We had our Norris family reunion at the mud pit. Grandpa Norris won this year’s Norris Mudder race, which was a surprise. The odds were on Uncle Tucker, but Gramps beat Tucker in the end by running over hot coals in a new Norris family record. 100 yards of hot coals in 12.1 seconds.”

“That Norris clan knows how to throw a reunion,” says Charlotte. Depends on what you’re looking for in a reunion I think to myself.

“You better believe it!” cheers Bo. “It was a heck of a time, but I’m happy to be back for another year as your Menuologist! Let’s get to it. Today, we’ve got two entrees. First, tilapia tacos with a jicama slaw, and second, meatloaf with mashed potatoes and green beans. As always the salad and sandwich bar are available to you. For dessert, today’s options are assorted cookies or tropical fruit salad.”

Bo’s face hardens like stale bread as he continues. “Also, remember that today marks the first day of our no-soda campus initiative which has been instituted by Principal Berkowitz. Soda will no longer be available in the cafeteria. As a campus community, we’re focusing on improving our health, and the soda ban will cut down on sugary drinks. There is a great selection of milk, water, and natural juices that will pair nicely with your lunches. Frank and Charlotte, this is definitely a controversial move, but we’re all hoping it’s for the best.”

“We’ll see how it plays out,” replies Charlotte. “A significant group of students is still vocally against the ban, and I’m sure they’ll continue to make themselves heard. It’ll be interesting to see how the issue impacts the upcoming Student Council election.”

“And that’s a nice segue to our next segment,” Frank says.

My ears perk up. An election? Cool. I dig politics.

[studentcouncil]

Chapter 2

We all have that thing we like. It’s hard to explain why we like what we like. We just do.

For my buddy Mel it’s old school delis. He wants to grow up and open his own. He’s got a name – Mel’s Meats – and he’s already experimenting with different sandwiches.

Jackie digs robots. Every time I visit her house, she’s building a new one. The latest robot brushes her teeth. This allows Jackie to simultaneously braid her hair in the morning. Genius.

Kapil is into fashion. He’s always drawing cool designs for t-shirts and hawking them at our school sporting events. Everyone in the stands wears Kapil’s shirts.

My thing is politics. I’m super interested in the issues that are important to my community, state, and country. I follow current events and the politicians that hold the power to steer our society in one direction or another.

In my opinion, politics really matter because they affect our everyday life. For example, when you get into a car, you wear a seatbelt. Why? It’s the law. And why is it the law? Because elected officials thought citizens would be safer if they wore seatbelts. So, they passed a law requiring the use of seatbelts.

Now, some citizens may argue that they should have the right to decide whether or not they wear seatbelts. A thoughtful citizen may ask why the government should decide whether he wears a seatbelt. That citizen would say that he should have the right to decide whether he needs a seatbelt. The elected official would argue that the law serves the public safety. The cool thing is that if you don’t like decisions made by elected officials, you can vote for new people in the next election.

Our democratic system can get prickly, but it’s a model the rest of the world admires. And, I’m 100% into it. When I grow up, I’m certain that I want to work in politics. I’m not certain of the role I’ll have, but I know I’ll be involved.

So, a controversial political issue and an upcoming Student Council election are music to my ears. I’m glued to Wake Up Wildcats with great anticipation.

Charlotte continues, “Wildcats, this morning we’re privileged to have our great friend Principal Berkowitz to discuss our very important Student Council elections. Principal Berkowitz is sitting down with Frank right now.”

The shot switches to Frank and Principal Berkowitz sitting across from each other in comfy chairs. A coffee table displaying framed photos from past Student Council elections separates the pair. Old campaign posters hang in the background.

Frank confidently reaches to shake Principal Berkowitz’s hand. “Good morning, Principal Berkowitz. It’s a pleasure to have you with us.”

“Frank, there’s nowhere I’d rather be than right in this chair. The pleasure is all mine. You and your team produce a great morning show.” Principal Berkowitz seems genuine. He is the kind of principal that can lay the cheese on reeeeeeal thick but really mean it when he does.

“Thank you, sir.” Unfazed by the flattery, Frank presses on. “Well, we’ve got you here this morning to discuss the Student Council elections. Let me first ask you to give us the nitty gritty details.”

“Of course, Frank. As you know, our Student Council consists of officers and representatives. There is one representative for each homeroom. With five homerooms in each of sixth, seventh, and eighth grades, that gives us fifteen class representatives. Once the Student Council is seated, one representative per grade will also be chosen as the Class Leader. But that’s decided later, and it’s too early to think about that. We also have five officers in the Student Council – President, Vice President, Secretary, Treasurer, and Historian. At the end of this week, each homeroom teacher will take nominations for class representatives and officers.”

I’m loving this.

“Once we know who is running, all candidates will have three weeks to campaign. That time will be spent hanging posters, speaking to students, and rallying votes. Of course, in one week, we’ll organize a major assembly to kick off the campaigns, and each candidate for officer will give an introductory speech. Before the election, we’ll also have a Presidential debate, and for the first time ever, we’ll have a Presidential town hall this year.”

“Wow, what an action-packed process!” Frank exclaims. His cheese is much stinkier than Principal Berkowitz’s.

“Frank, we really pride ourselves at Ellis Arnall Middle School on our democratic process. We want the best candidates, and the only way to find them is to allow the voters to meet everyone and get to know where the candidates stand on the issues.”

Frank recrosses his legs. “Principal Berkowitz, if we may, let’s talk about the issues. Perhaps, more broadly, let’s talk about the divisiveness that our school has recently experienced in its debate of the issues. Over the last two years, it seems we’ve failed to make legislative progress on important matters facing our school. How do we change that?”

“I believe we need to return the element of civility to our Student Council. It used to be that all of the representatives and officers were friends. They’d play sports on the same teams, sit side-by-side at lunch, and study together for tests. Now, we have strong divisions between people that disagree.”

I see this every day in old people politics. I’m not very happy to hear that middle school politics share the animosity.

Principal Berkowitz continues. “Government works when we remember that we’re friends and members of the same school. Civility leads to respect and respect leads to friendship. That path will bring us to a more productive Student Council. And at this moment in our history, we need a more productive Student Council. We’re facing important issues having to do with our fiscal house and the health of our students. We need to hear all good ideas.”

The principal takes a sip of water as Frank tees up another question. “We can assume Joe Oak will run this year for an unprecedented fourth term as Student Council President. It’s fair to say he’s struggled in past years to reach across the hall and compromise with students who don’t share his views. Do you think he’s the best candidate to lead the Student Council?”

How do you think he’s going to answer this one, Frank? “Yes! Joe is the best. Don’t run against him. It’s not worth your time.” Come on, hot shot. You’re better than that.

Of course, Principal Berkowitz dodges Frank’s question. “Frank, as Principal, you know I can’t give my opinion on who should win any of the races. What I will say is that Joe is a fine young man and an experienced president. I believe he has acknowledged some of his past failures, and he has shown a desire to make amends. We’ll see what he has to say on the campaign trail, but we have to keep an open mind. I’m also interested to see who else chooses to run for president this year. And of course, there are plenty of other races. It’ll be an interesting election year.”

So diplomatic.

Frank again, “Finally, Principal Berkowitz, I’d be remiss if I didn’t ask you about the soda ban you’ve implemented this year. Why did you do it, and do you see it as a potential issue in this campaign?”

“Frank, sugary drinks aren’t the healthiest of options, and it’s my job to look out for the students. It’s simply a decision I felt was the right one to make. It really shouldn’t be much of a campaign issue as the subject is outside of the scope of the Student Council’s power. But, I guess we never know. We’ll see.”

Sounds like a dictator to me.

“Well, Principal Berkowitz, sir, it’s always a joy to be with you. I’d like to take this moment to speak on behalf of the whole student body and tell you that we couldn’t wish for a better principal. As you begin your thirty-ninth year, please know that we are glad you’re here.”

Another handshake, and Principal Berkowitz assures Frank that he enjoyed his experience. “Frank, it was fun.”

Frank sends the show back to Charlotte, who wraps things up nicely. “That’s our show this morning, Wildcats. We’re happy to be back.

From our crew here at Wake Up Wildcats, have a perrrrrfect day!”

Charlotte’s another one who seems heavy on the cheese. Maybe that’s a newscaster thing.

In any event, I want to be involved in the election. But how?

[studentcouncil]

Chapter 3

As soon as the bell rings to end the day, I run home to plan my participation in the election.

At my desk, I start thinking.

There’s the obvious – I can run for office. But, I don’t think that’s me. I’m the quiet type. I’m not into kissing babies. Do you even kiss babies in a student council election? I’m also not into kissing butt. I’m sure you do kiss butt in a student council election. I feel strongly about the issues, but I don’t think I’m best-suited for being the public face of the issues. What else?

I can work on a campaign. Maybe I’ll serve as a speechwriter – I like to write – or as a strategist – I’m intrigued by the game of politics. These are closer to my skill set and interest. Still, they don’t feel right. If I work as a staffer I’ll be head down in one campaign. I want to have my head up and on a swivel. I want to be part of several campaigns and get the full story of an election.

I tap my fingers on my desk. Nothing comes to mind. I stare at the ceiling and spin my chair. Nada.

I grab my red notebook. I get my best thoughts when I’m writing. It’s weird, but when I actually put pen to paper, my ideas flow like a burst of ink from my brain through my fingers. I jot my thoughts:

• How should I get involved in the student council election?

• What do I want to do?

• Where do my skills and interests lead me?

• I don't have the temperament to campaign.

• I don’t want to kiss anyone's butt.

• I don't want to tie myself to only one campaign.

• I really enjoy writing and telling stories (unrelated note – I need to finish writing “The Night the Toaster Struck Back”).

• I also really enjoy political strategy and thinking about why campaigns do what they do.

• As a sixth grader, I’m new to Ellis Arnall, so I don’t know much about the candidates. It’d be great to learn more.

• I like people. Sometimes they like me.

• Can I combine my interest in writing with my desire to learn everything I can about the Student Council elections?

• What if I write about the campaign for the school paper? What if I become a political reporter?

That’s it. That’s the idea. I can write as a political reporter for The Ellis Arnall Times. That’s our school newspaper. It’s been around since Ellis Arnall opened in 1943. The paper is very well respected, and students and teachers read it every morning. In print, no less!

Reporters who write for The Times go on to become writers and editors for their high school papers. Some go on to study journalism in college and then write for large, national newspapers and magazines. One of the most important sections of the paper is the political coverage.

I wonder if they’re looking for writers. The clock turns on Monday, August 10 as I begin to dream about The Times.

[studentcouncil]

Chapter 4

TUESDAY, AUGUST 11

22 DAYS UNTIL ELECTION DAY

I overslept again and missed breakfast. I should really get an alarm clock. My parrot is unreliable.

Still, an empty stomach doesn’t weaken my excitement for The Times. I make a beeline to Mr. Wilbon’s classroom as soon as I get to school. Mr. Wilbon teaches seventh grade English, and he’s also the faculty advisor for The Times. Like Wake Up Wildcats, The Times is entirely student run – writing and editing stories, designing the layout, and printing and distributing the paper. But of course, there has to be adult supervision. You’re a kid. You know how it is. Mr. Wilbon is the supervision. I knock on his door.

“Come in!” he shouts.

The room is buzzing. Tymies (pronounced TIME-EES), as the staff of The Times are called, are printing, folding, and stacking the morning’s paper. They get to school an hour before homeroom begins and make sure that each classroom has the news when students arrive.

“24-stack ready to fly!” yells a Tymie with fiery red hair. Another Tymie rushes by and scoops the bundled stack of 24 papers. She runs out to make her delivery.

“Black out on Carl!”

That’s a strange thing to hear. I watch a tall Tymie with glasses grab an ink cartridge and head towards the printers. I guess Carl sits among them.

It’s a whirlwind in Mr. Wilbon’s class. Tymies rushing around. Paper flying around. Ink spilling around. There’s life, energy, and noise. I love it. These are my people.

I walk up to Mr. Wilbon’s desk. He’s laser focused on the Tymie servicing Carl.

“Mr. Wilbon, I’m Sy Ziller, and I’m interested in joining The Ellis Arnall Times as a political reporter.”

“What grade are you in?” Mr. Wilbon barks.

“Sixth, sir.” I’m not sure why I say “sir.” I didn’t grow up saying “sir” and “ma’am,” but in this instance, it just seemed appropriate. Mr. Wilbon intimidates me.

“No sixth graders can report on politics. Not enough life experience. Come back next year.”

“Spencer, you clumsy fool! Be gentle with Carl!” Mr. Wilbon rushes to save Carl’s life.

I’m kind of shocked as I stand in the classroom. The commotion of the newsroom gets louder. Voices shout the secret Tymie shorthand. Printers spew page after page. Sneakers shuffle across the linoleum floor as delivery kids grab bundles for their routes. This is where I want to be, and I’m angry.

What’s with Mr. Wilbon’s cold shoulder? I can’t report on politics because I’m in sixth grade? No life experience? What’s he talking about?

My parents always tell me I’m super stubborn. It’s true. I don’t quit. I don’t take “No” for an answer. I don’t let things get me down. I just try to find a way. Joining The Times will be no different.

Before I walk out of Mr. Wilbon’s classroom, I know what I’m going to do – fake it ‘til I make it.

Let me take a second here to be honest. I’m no angel. I’ve thrown a gum wrapper in the forest. I’ve taken a five-dollar bill from my mom’s wallet to buy some stickers. I’ve told my brother that the cookie jar is empty, and then I’ve proceeded to eat the last TWO cookies in the jar.

In general, I don’t support lying or deceiving. I support honesty. But sometimes, unique circumstances call for unique measures, and this is one of those circumstances. I’m going to be a Tymie whether Mr. Wilbon knows about it or not.

The plan is simple. I will be a self-appointed political reporter for The Times, and I will cover the presidential election. I will make a press pass so I can get access to election events. I will interview candidates, staffers, and voters. I will turn stories in to the editors. I will hang out in The Times’ classroom.

Mr. Wilbon banished me without even looking my way. He’ll never know I’ve returned.

It’s a surefire plan, right? Don’t answer that question.

[studentcouncil]

Chapter 5

MONDAY, AUGUST 17

16 DAYS UNTIL ELECTION DAY

It’s almost been a week since my vow to fake it ‘til I make it. I spent the time planning stories and scheduling access to the candidates. Today’s a big day – I’m interviewing Joe Oak for a story about his run for the presidency.

We’re face-to-face. Joe is tall and handsome. His blond locks are parted perfectly, and they look as fluffy as a big, soft cloud on a warm, spring afternoon. His eyes are the blue of the sky on that same warm, spring afternoon. Joe is dressed in gray slacks and a white button down shirt. The sleeves on his shirt are rolled up twice and come half way down his forearm. The guy looks like he’s ready for either a political debate or to change the flat tire on your bike. Joe is a classic politician. Everything about him exudes his political confidence. This should be great.

Sy: Joe, let’s begin with the obvious question – why did you decide to hold yourself back and repeat eighth grade at Ellis Arnall Middle School?

Joe: Well first off, Sy, let me tell you what a pleasure it is to be with you. I’m honored to sit down for an interview with a young reporter from The Ellis Arnall Times. And your first interview, no less!

My stomach flips. If only Joe knew exactly what I was doing.

Joe: To answer your question, I really thought this would be a historic opportunity for me. As you probably know, I’ve won the Student Council Presidency three times in a row. For those of you keeping count at home, that’s sixth grade, seventh grade, and eighth grade. Winning a fourth term would cement my place in political history.

My advisors wondered why I would risk losing an election when I had won three in a row – a school record. I wasn’t scared of losing. Like my idol Franklin Delano Roosevelt, the 32nd President of the United States, once said, “The only thing we have to fear is fear itself.” FDR won four elections, and I want to win four elections.

Now, is it optimal that I had to hold myself back? No. It’d be much easier if 9th grade was taught at Ellis Arnall. But, public servants must make sacrifices.

Joe leans forward. His face tightens, and he becomes quite serious.

Joe: And I’m a public servant.

Sy: How did you broach the topic of repeating eighth grade with Principal Berkowitz?

Joe: Here’s how it happened. I went in to Principal Berkowitz’s office at the end of last year, and I said to him, “Principal Berkowitz, I’ve given it some thought, and I’d like to repeat eighth grade.” Principal Berkowitz was a bit confused. He expects students to rush off to high school in excitement. But, me? Nope. High school can wait.

I feel that my duties are here at Ellis Arnall Middle School. I have work to do and history to make here in these halls. I conveyed these feelings to our principal. He didn’t really buy it.

Joe puffs his chest out.

Joe: Now, my grades were good. Straight A’s, except for a few issues in the sciences. I’ve also had perfect attendance since sixth grade. I had leadership experience and my social emotional skills were appropriate for my age. Principal Berkowitz felt that it was time to move on.

But after much discussion and a generous gift from my family to the school library, Principal Berkowitz approved my request. I was given permission to repeat eighth grade and chase my political dreams.

I’m interviewing Joe in his campaign headquarters – the Oak Family Library – and people are buzzing around us. As Joe finishes telling me about Principal Berkowitz’s change of heart, a female student approaches with a poster. Clearly, a campaign poster. It reads “Vote Oak: He’s OUR Regular Joe!” in big, colorful letters. A border of red and blue stars is drawn on the poster. Classic.

Joe continues.

Joe: Let me explain to you why I’m successful. It’s easy really – I’m a “Regular Joe.” Students at Ellis Arnall feel I’m on their team. I’m not cozying up to the school faculty and allowing our rights to be trampled. I’m not swayed by powerful groups like the Cafeteria Moms. Not me! I serve the students. I’m one of them. And, my peers vote for me because they know I’ll represent our opinion on the Student Council.

Sy: Joe, what’s your proudest moment standing up for the students?

Joe: It definitely has to be my prolonged battle with the Cafeteria Moms.

Sy: Tell me about it.

Joe: Every school has Cafeteria Moms. These ladies are responsible for supervision of the cafeteria during lunchtime. Admittedly, lunch can be rowdy. Kids have two opportunities to let their hair down during the day – lunch and recess. So, the CMs, as we call them, serve a needed role. They make sure noise stays under control, and they make sure the cafeteria remains relatively clean. Fine and dandy. I have no problem with that. My problem arose when our basic liberties were threatened.

During my second term as President, the CMs complained to Principal Berkowitz claiming that students were too boisterous at lunch. Their solution for keeping things under control was “Silent Lunch.” Imagine – the CMs wanted students to eat lunch in silence. We practically spend the whole day sitting in chairs and learning attentively. Now, during one of our periods of relaxation, the CMs wanted to take away our right to socialize. Our right to enjoy each others company. Our right to speak freely.

Sy: And what happened?

Joe: Needless to say, this would not pass on my watch. I immediately complained to Principal Berkowitz. He took the side of the CMs. Seeing an uphill battle, I mobilized the student body. Strength comes from numbers. We created posters and began marching in the halls. The faculty took note. Principal Berkowitz and the teachers reconsidered their support of the CMs. We would not be silenced, and in the end, we weren’t.

Joe clears his throat and again turns to a serious tone.

Joe: I will always defend the people. Always.

Sy: That’s an impressive story. It must have taken guts to stand up to so many adults. I imagine the students appreciated your resolve.

Joe, why is serving as President of the Student Council important to you?

Joe: When I was in elementary school, I remember my brothers coming home from this great middle school. I had three older brothers. Each served at least one term as the Student Council President. They told their stories of great political triumph and, in some cases, great political loss. Their darker days are the ones that stick in my memory.

Here’s why. Each of my brothers said the same thing to me on those tough days: “Joe,” they’d say looking me right in the eyes like they were giving me the most important advice that they could, “Joe, the president works so hard for the students. His peers. His friends. And, sometimes, as president, things don’t go your way. But, it’s always worth it because other times, you win, and when you win, you know that you’ve helped your people. There’s no better feeling in the world than helping a friend.”

Joe begins to cry. I think the tears are real. I really think Joe takes this position seriously. We can judge whether it’s too seriously, but I’m not sure there’s a question that the guy cares.

Joe: Sy, I’m just a regular Joe out here representing my peers. My friends.

He wipes away his tears with a handkerchief he grabs from his front pocket. If I could take a guess, I’d guess it was his great grandfather’s, and I’m sure his great grandfather was also a former president of the Student Council at Ellis Arnall. We’ll leave that for the next interview.

Sy: Thank you, Joe. Good luck during the campaign.

Joe: Thank you. Let’s do it again soon.

Now the focus turns to the next matter of business – getting the interview published in tomorrow’s edition of the paper.