Connor Brem 5/16/11 Honors British Literature, 3 Mrs.

Tighe Pride and Prejudice Creative Self Narrative: In all matters of opinion, our adversaries are insane. Oscar Wilde The MLCEVS: Grand Reforms are Expected at the First Meeting On Monday, May 9, 2011, Mr. Michael realized something during his fourth period English class (or, rather, his forth period English class helped him to a realization): the power of a great English class is lost in the limitation of students great ideas to the realm of discussing centuries-old texts. If such intellectual power were brought into the real world, however, huge, powerful changes could be made. Thus, Mt. Lebanon Chamber for the Expression of the Voices of Students was formed. The first meeting was to take place on the roof of the C-building the following Saturday. So, on the night of the 14th, grappling hooks flew, locks burst open, and dozens of teenage feet moved silently across the schools expansive lawn as the Chamber assembled. Here are the meetings minutes, recorded with commentary, by the younger brother of Connor Brem, one of the students in attendance: May 5, 2011: 2300 hours Order, please, ventured Mr. Michael, knocking his Yorick skull on the table. Please, order. After the philosophizing and general ruckus had died down, he continued: William has asked me to introduce you to the MLCEVS pledge he wrote in my class yesterday. So if youd all stand up, cross your arms over your chests, and turn your backs to the flag out front, we can begin. William and the students around him quickly rose and assumed the pledging pose. Connor, slightly worried about what he might be about to pledge to but otherwise giddy with excitement, stood as well, following the lead of the student on his left. In time, the rest of the group followed. Mr. Michael began to read Williams pledge. I pledge! he began. I pledge the students murmured. William looked around, trying to discern the individual behind the unenthusiastic response, and Connor shrank back, aware that he hadnt pledged all that loudly. I pledge! William repeated, and Mr. Michael shrank back from the podium. I pledge! agreed the remainder of the students. to never rest! continued William. to never rest!

until, through the honest ambitions of the student populace, until, through the honest insistence of the student Poppinses, the inefficient and out-of-touch administration currently controlling this school the inefficient and out-of-touch administration currently controlling this school is deposed, and students are governed by their peers! is disposed, and students are governed by their peers! William looked around, glad to see that his pledge had had an impact on the students, nodded smugly, and took his seat. Connor thought the pledge a bit more radical than his personal beliefs, but respected its intentions. He took his seat, eager to see what other interesting ideas would follow. Mr. Michael, sensing a pause in the meeting, slowly suggested: So, now, are there any issues which students would like to bring to light? A number of hands shot up, but before Mr. Michael could select one of them, Robin and the Musical Culture Club were already making their way up to the podium. Robin cleared her throat, pulled the microphone down to her level, and began: While some of you me included are hardly ever here during homeroom to hear it, we are all of us aware that music is frequently played before each mornings announcements. Who selects this music is not clear, and it seems that the selectors vary from week to week however, regardless of who in particular is selecting the music, it seems clear that none of these selectors have much musical taste. On the few occasions that I have been at school in time to hear the morning music, my ears have been assaulted by a wave of commercialized auditory bubble-gum so heavy that I have had to spend at least half an hour with my iPod in order to regain my preparation for the day. Therefore, I propose that control of morning music be turned over to one experienced group, who will consistently employ their musical expertise to pick songs which, though they will challenge social norms and the intellects of some of the weaker-minded students, will prepare the majority of the student body for a successful and open-minded day. I propose that the Musical Culture Club be this group. Furthermore, I okay Robin, I believe thats enough, whispered Mr. Michael. No, no! protested Robin, still speaking into the microphone. Then, turning again to face the students, she continued, I will give you a sample. Gesturing to Emma, the MCC vice-president, she said under her breath, Emma, give me something by Harriet Tubman and Friends. Emma reached into an American Apparel bag and produced a record player and two records. Robin picked the one on the left, and after some struggle between her and the record player, the record began to play. The students, gathered around a long table, fell silent as they leaned in to try to catch some sound from the player, which evidently was not designed for use in large outdoor settings. The record slowly spun. A vaguely female voice could just barely be heard: I want to follow your drinking gourd/ Yours is the only railroad Id trust to take me underground

Connor began to grin. This kind of music always made him feel intelligent, ahead of the stylistic curve, unique. Maybe he would buy a record player. The song finished, and Robin removed the record. A few members of the chamber clapped the rest look a bit confused. So, Robin began again, If the chamber will support our cause, we, the MCC of Mt. Lebanon, are willing to attend school in the morning in order to provide the students therein with decent music. All in favor, please raise your hands. The hands of the MCC shot up. Around the table, other small clusters of hands were raised. Connor eagerly glanced around himself, but seeing that no hands near him were raised, decided to abstain from this vote. Robin, astounded that her peers had not voted unanimously in the MCCs favor, continued angrily. All opposed? Immediately, the left side of the table went up in a flurry of fingers as the football team cast its collective vote. Then, gradually, a number of other hands were raised, and the philosophical hobnobbing began: I wont take part in any musical system that under-represents techno! I could make better music in an afternoon on my new guitar! Utterly offensive! Are you serious, that songs already been out for two weeks! After the commotion died down, Robin, still stewing, took to the microphone. Well fine, if you want to stay in a cultural Dark-Ages, go ahead. She began to stamp away, and the rest of the MCC began to follow her when, suddenly, she turned back to the podium. Quickly, the anger gone from her voice, she added, Oh, and we meet at this awesome coffee shop in Dormont every Thursday during third period if anybody wants to join the club. That said, the MCC returned to their seats, and once again, if only for a second, silence hung over the table. Suddenly, debate returned to the table. Opinions were being artfully (and forcefully) explained and insults were being hurled when, to everyones surprise, a head peaked out from behind the podium. Uh guys a voice began. Everybody grew quiet and looked inquisitively toward the head of the table. Hey guys the speaker, whom the students could now see was Marty Carter, continued. So I support Robins musical ideas and stuff, and I thought that while we were talking about culture, theres something else I should bring up. Um, I think that students could be more artistic if we let them smoke pot in school. Um, Marty started Mr. Michael. No, hear me out, wed only let them smoke it in the fine arts wing, and we could leave doors open or something to let the smoke out so it doesnt go into the rest of the school. And, well, I think Ben has some more to say about this.

Yes, I do, said Ben, taking great care to appear formal and respectful as he stepped from Martys side up to the podium. Thanks Marty. Okay, so I understand why there could be some resistance to letting something like this take place in school, but its not as crazy as it sounds once you think about it. First of all, we have to stop thinking like Americans. A few smug chuckles went up from the table. Ben nodded and continued. Marijuana isnt viewed as such a bad thing in other countries. Okay, whos been to Canada? About half of the students put their hands up. Okay, now how many of you knew that youre allowed to smoke marijuana in some bars there? About a third of the hands went up this time. Okay, so not as many this time thats because they keep it under control. I think we could do something similar here in the high school without disrupting the educational environment. Anyone who didnt want to smoke wouldnt have to feel pressured to they could just stay out of the fine arts wing. Um, Andrew, have you thought how parents or the police would react? chimed in Mr. Michael. Now, Mike, who had been standing on Martys other side, leaned over to the microphone. Um, the police can suck my d**k. Okay, Mike, I dont think that solves anything, Mr. Michael responded. Uh huh, okay, so all in favor raise your hands! Around a quarter of the hands went up. Connor was beginning to feel uneasy. Sure, he thought maybe school rules were too tightbut he didnt want to smoke in school, did he? Though he didnt want to look ridiculous voting no either. Probably best to sit this one out as well. All opposed, continued Mike. A few hands went up and were met with judgmental glares from the students behind the podium. Really? asked Mike with apparent exasperation. After a few seconds of tense silence, however, a few more hands joined them. You do realize, I hope, that school rules have no authority over federal laws, Samuel Harris quipped condescendingly. Believe me, in my four years as a member of the Model United Nations team, Ive had ample experience with federal laws. And while I may not agree with them personally, we cant simply disregard them. If a government ceases to meet the needs of its people William grumbled fairly loudly, though he apparently thought it unnecessary to finish his thought. Marty leaned back over to the microphone, Um, so youre just going to agree with the man, Sam? William, seeing support, stood up at the back of the table. I think that your problem, Sam, is that you assume that any new rules that we make must stay in line with the rules which already exist. Thats a nice idea, but this is reality. If we want to actually make meaningful changes, we cant be afraid to go against the existing rules. F**k yeah, lets vote again! yelled Mike. Whos in favor?

At least half the hands went up. Well, theres a majority, said Ben, leaning forward to the microphone and smiled. If anybody is looking to complete a transaction on Monday, everythings 25% off. Connor fidgeted uncomfortably. Okaycould we get on to the next issue? Hed rather not think about this one, though there was no use condemning the whole chamber for one decision, right? This time, the chamber proceeded with more order between speakers. Marty, Ben, and Mike quietly took their seats amidst quiet, respectful congratulations from their peers. Mr. Michael returned. Um, Ben, Marty, and Mike, I think I need to talk to you after the meeting. And, um, Ben you really shouldnt keep drugs in your locker. The silence that followed was a bit awkward, and nobody ventured to break it, so Mr. Michael did so himself. Um, any other issues? Two figures shuffled up beside Mr. Michael, and one whispered in his ear. Oh, the Chinese Student Contingent would like to say something. He stepped back, and the figure who had whispered to him took the podium. Um, hi guys. Me and my sister Susan here both speak Mandarin dude, double-u-tee-eff is Mandarin? said a voice near the front of the table. Oh, sorry, me and Susan both speak Chinese, but as far as we know, not many other people at the school do. However, Chinese has become more and more of a world language over the past few years, and we think that it deserves to be taught in the school alongside German and Spanish and Go back to China! yelled Mike. Um, yeah, go back to Kim Jong Il! Marty chimed in. Samuel leaned across the table. Marty, its actually Kim Jong Un now, and besides, neither of them was even in power in Dude, f**k off, said Mike. All in favor of the Model UN team leaving, raise your hands! An enthusiastic response went up from the football team. Samuel tried to protest, but it was too late. The tide had already turned against him, and within the minute, he and his Model UN teammates had been carried off the roof and back down into the school by Mike and the offensive linemen. Connor couldnt help but laugh after all, Samuel looked humorous in a headlock but he soon caught himself. He was glad that he hadnt stood up to Mike and Marty and Ben before and really, it had been the best idea not to, hadnt it? Regardless of whether or not he had agreed with their ideas. He was just trying to be safe. By this point, most of the table was abubble with the kind of camaraderie that comes from finding and ousting a common enemy. Pleased with himself, and grinning widely, Mike took his seat. Mr. Michael knocked the Yorick skull on the podium once again. Um, guys? Any more issues? Um, we have one, Arthur Knickerbocker piped up from near the head of the table. Seeing Mr. Michael nod approvingly, he and another student

took the podium, and he continued. Me and Nathaniel think its unfair that the books we read in English dont really appeal to everybody. I mean, you may not have known this, but personally Im a very big fan of sci-fi, and Im disappointed that there arent any honors-level classes which focus on the topic. Like, Im pretty sure the closest to sci-fi that weve gotten was with Frankenstein two years ago, right? He grinned and leaned towards the table, looking for a laugh. Getting none, he continued. Anyway, I just think that it wouldnt hurt to make another class that would still be challenging but which would focus on sci-fi or Tolkien or something. I mean, theres actually lots and lots of criticism on Lord of the Rings we could easily make a yearlong course on analysis of Middle Earth. A second time, he paused in order to give the rest of the students time to respond. Though nobody did, all eyes remained on him. Except Martys eyes, that is. He was asleep. Okay, I mean maybe it would be too hard to make a whole new course, but why couldnt we put some books into existing classes? I just read Watchmen again, and that would be great for tenth grade really, its regarded as a respectable work of literature! Gay! someone screamed from the back of the table. Nobody cares about gay books! Let someone else talk! At least a dozen cries of yeah, stop being gay! rose up from around the table. Another purge courtesy of the football team seemed to be at hand when, suddenly, a deafening buffeting noise came from the level of the street at least half of the crowd moved to investigate, but as they neared the edge of the building, they were blown back by the hurricane-force winds coming from the spinning blades of a helicopter! Duck and cover! screamed Mr. Michael, diving behind the podium. Duck and Minutes end here. May 14, 2011: 2330 hours The chamber then fell silent, stunned. The only movement was that of the helicopters blades, and the only sound their thunderous chopping against the air. Then a door rolled open, and, standing unflinchingly again the gusts in the bay of the helicopter, all of the students assembled could clearly see Samuel Harris and the Model UN team. Samuel reached for a bullhorn and addressed the crowd: YOU think that you are above THE LAW! Well, let ME tell you, you may think that you are something SPECIAL, something NEW, but you are just a bunch of BICKERING little CHILDREN! Security guards, ATTACK! And then, to the students horror, both of the roof entrances burst open, and the school security staff streamed out, guns blazing. Students fell left and right. Samuel then pulled out a rocket propelled grenade, and within seconds, the meeting table had splintered into more pieces than even Arthur Knickerbocker could count. After a minute of unceasing ruthlessness, Samuel raised his hands, and the gunfire stopped. No one moved, for the survivors

mingled with the dead, wishing to appear lifeless themselves. The podium lay in pieces. The record in Robins player was shattered, and the music that somehow still managed to play could only be described as a funeral dirge. Samuel surveyed the destruction and, apparently pleased, began to walk away. He was all the way in the roof entrance door when, suddenly, he turned back and looked again at the death that he had caused. That will teach them not to tussle with Model UN, he muttered. He then turned to face off of the building and, gathering his breath, yelled with surprising volume for a boy of his stature, DONT EVER TUSSLE WITH MODEL UN! With that he stepped into the exit, not once looking back. The door closed behind him, and with that dull thump of wood hitting steel, the first meeting of the Chamber was adjourned. Hello Evan. Oh, hey Connor. Wait, why do you look guilty? I made some changes to your paper. Oh, seriously? What did you change? Youll see. No, seriously, what did you change? I made everybody die. Wait, what? How? Samuel kills them. What? Why? Because you had him leave. Um, okay. Well can you move over so I can change it back? I need to have this done for tomorrow.