Improving (Ezzy's Education: Part 40), by Garrett Murch
Ebbing High School was remarkably calm on Monday—election day—and the unaccountable furor on InstaTok surrounding Ezzy’s candidacy was conspicuously absent. Officer Marcus Holmes and two fellow Ebbing police officers, having been allowed to work inside the school, had a relatively uneventful day on the job.
After school, Ezzy returned home, joined by the same core of friends who had helped her over the weekend. By 5:30 p.m., over a dozen other students had arrived at Ezzy’s house and been welcomed inside. The election results still had not come in. A rare October snowstorm was in the forecast and Ezzy was hoping the weather would hold off.
“Stop celebrating, Madison,” Link said. “You’ll jinx it.”
“Dude, there’s no way it’s close; you must have heard how students were talking today.”
“Don’t put anything past Lucinda,” Link said.
“Don’t get conspiratorial on me, Link.”
Ezzy stood with Kayla and Sheila. Where are the results? It’s already spitting snow.
“Is Emma, um, showing?” Sheila asked.
With Emma wearing a tighter-fitting top at school that day, the same question had sprung back into Ezzy’s mind.
“It’s only been Trunk, right?” Kayla asked.
“Far as I know,” Sheila answered. “She’s been very subdued since Trunk’s crash, but I wonder if there’s more to it than we know.”
Several minutes later, Kelile yelled, “Results are in!” The living room went silent for a second or two. “Ezzy, how do you want to do this?” Kelile asked.
“Just tell us the results, K,” Ezzy said. “We don’t need to hear Luci’s entire commentary.
Ezzy’s parents watched from the kitchen, their elbows on the countertop, their chins on their hands.
“Here goes,” Kelile said.
He looks so serious. Just tell us! Ezzy’s breath shortened. “Trendon Bravissimo: 120 votes,” K said.
“And?” Link asked.
“Dizzy Jabs: 168 votes.”
“It’s all going to depend on how many people voted,” Link said. Kayla kicked him. Ezzy held her breath.
K, his face still emotionless, said, “Ezzy Bello: 484 votes!”
“Whoo!”
“Yes!”
“Frickin’ right!”
“Ezzy!”
Madison screamed, “Over 90 percent of students voted!” Ezzy’s eyes watered with tears of joy and relief.
“I’ve got to go hug her,” Echo said.
“Let her be,” Mateo said.
“Speech!” Madison yelled.
“Speech!” Sheila yelled.
“Speech!” Kelile yelled. All eyes were on Ezzy.
“I believe Ezzy is going to record a victory video later,” Madison said. “To go on InstaTok.”
“No,” Ezzy said. She looked at each person in the room. “I want you all with me. There’s no time to prepare a Lucinda-style, ‘look-at-me’ video. The snow is really starting to come down and you all need to be hitting the road. Not that it would have been a very sexy speech, anyway.”
Small, fast-falling snowflakes, silent as the living room had just become, could be seen through the window.
Ezzy had not gotten to writing down what she wanted to say. “I’ll sit on the couch,” she said. “Will you all gather round? Dad, can you record from in front of the TV?” Mom’s going to get a surprise here. It’s time. Ezzy handed her father her phone.
Sitting on the couch, surrounded by supporters, Ezzy faced her father holding up her phone. “Okay, let’s do this. Madison, you can put the unedited video on InstaTok right after.”
“Recording now,” Mateo said.
Ezzy did not wait another second. “Classmates and friends at Ebbing High School,” she said, “Thank you. I am honored to be your next student body president and I will do every last thing in my power to make sure you never regret your support for me today.”
“She sounds so professional,” Echo whispered to a student next to her.
Ezzy continued. “A great writer, John Gierach, said in his book, Dumb Luck and the Kindness of Strangers, we often end up where we are through no fault of our own, and we’re faced with making the best of it. Friends, at our age, that is just how we find ourselves. Soon we will have more options, more life decisions to make, and we’ll have to own those. Today, and for the rest of this school year, we must make the best of our situation. And improve it. And we will.”
“Did you write this for her?” Madison whispered to Link.
“Nope,” Link whispered back, “I was wondering if you had. She’s good!” Madison nodded, smiling.
“You may not have chosen your school or your situation at home. You certainly didn’t choose your gender, your skin color, your sexuality. Lord knows I did not choose to be a Latina lesbian, but here I am, and I’m just fine with it. More than fine: I’m quite happy with who I am.”
The room went silent again. Ezzy’s secret was a secret no more. Breaking the silence, Ezzy’s mother yelled, “We love you, Ezzy!”
Distracted, Ezzy faced her mother and said, “Thanks, Mom.” Ezzy saw her mother’s smile was unmistakably sincere. I guess that’s going on InstaTok. Ezzy laughed internally, then continued. “To improve our situation and make a lasting, positive difference, I ask you for help in achieving two simple and realistic goals. First, we have got to get politics out of Ebbing High School.”
Everyone in the room cheered, and Link made a poor attempt to whistle. “School is not the place for political activism, yet that’s what ours has become.”
Ezzy continued. “And it’s not just the stunts and theatrics done by our most enthusiastic student supporters of the dominant Justice and Patriot parties. Our teachers should only be helping us learn how to think, as well as we possibly can, and they should never be telling us what our political views should be, subtly or not so subtly. We students should not have to walk around on pins and needles wondering if we’re talking right or even thinking right while it doesn’t even matter if we’re talking and thinking well. For over two centuries, people have had legitimate debate over what direction would best improve our country. It is not the job of a teacher or an administrator to abuse the powerful position they hold over students to tip the scales in the direction they prefer.”
Link, not trying to whistle again, hollered “Amen!”
Ezzy made sure Link was done before speaking again.
“Teaching how to think is honorable, teaching what to think is political. We face a tough world ahead of us, and we need to get as much out of our brains as we can. Forcing conformity stunts our intellectual development, our ability to think. And conformity eventually stunts the growth of the very worldviews we’re told we must have. When ideas never get challenged, they wither and grow weak.”
“This gets us to goal number two: We’ve got to do much better with reading, writing, math, and science. The learning we lost when school was shut down during the pandemic and lately because of politics, it’s taken a huge toll on us. We all know it. The last thing we should do is harm students by lowering our standards. Yes, it is harmful, and yes, it has been done. We must change course and raise our standards as high as they’ve ever been. Maybe higher!”
Madison and Kayla cheered, but the rest of the students in the room had a muted, if not negative, reaction. I knew that might not go over well. It means working harder, but it’s the truth and I had to say it.
“So I’m asking you to lend your support for raising our school’s academic standards. I realize this goal may not be popular. I’m okay with that. It’s certainly not an easy goal. But it is important and necessary.”
Madison clapped and several students joined him.
“Having solid critical thinking skills will help you, no matter what you do after your days at Ebbing High School.”
There was a larger number of cheers.
“So that is it, friends,” Ezzy said. “These two things. They’re how we can leave a lasting legacy of improvement at Ebbing High School. We will make true progress on them if we commit to them. I am honored you have placed your trust in me. Thank you. See you tomorrow at school.”
Applause and cheers filled the living room.
Ezzy’s mother ran to her and gave her a big hug. “I love you, Ezzy.” Her father ended the recording after the hug.
Ezzy looked through the window outside. Shoot, look at that snow. She yelled, “Can I have everyone’s attention? First order of business,” Ezzy said, “is for all of you to get home safely and right away. Look outside.” The snow was not only heavy, but coming down diagonally from the dim, post-sunset sky. “I don’t like breaking up the party, but I’m serious. Thank you all. Be safe.”
One by one the students, even Ezzy’s close friends, left the house.
* * *
Nearly half an hour after Ezzy’s classmates left her house, the doorbell rang. It was Link and Kayla. “What are you still doing here?” Ezzy asked them.
Kayla, smiling with snowflakes sparkling on her hair, said, “Link’s car won’t start.” She clutched Link’s arm.
“You’ve been out there this whole time trying to get the car to start?”
Neither Kayla nor Link answered right away. Ezzy noticed Kayla’s smudged lipstick. Oh, I see. Ha! “Come on, let’s go. I’ll bring you home.”
On the ride to the first stop, Kayla’s house, Kayla said from the front passenger seat, “You’re courageous, Ezzy.”
“So are you, Kayla, after what happened to you. This Link kid, he’s an okay guy.” Ezzy smiled. “I trust him.”
“So do I,” Kayla said. “He’s going to show me fly fishing. But maybe you could help with a lesson?”
“Good idea,” Ezzy said. “I don’t know if Link’s ready to be a fly fishing instructor.”
“My word, ladies,” Link said. “I’m sitting right here!” The girls giggled.
Driving home after dropping each of them off, Ezzy followed close behind a car. I know it’s snowing, but can’t you go a little faster? She followed the car another half mile. Can you please speed up just a little! After another quarter mile, the car slowly took a right turn and, as it turned, Ezzy began accelerating. With no car ahead of her and no taillights to follow, she saw nothing but thousands of dense snowflakes flying sideways, glaring off her headlights so she could not see more than ten feet ahead.
Whoa! Whiteout! That car was driving too fast. Ezzy eased off the gas. It’s completely different being in the lead.