Ghost of Spirit Bear (14 page)

Cole tried to think of everything. “Find out how old the uniforms are, too,” he told his group. “If they’re really old, maybe they need replacing anyway. And this time we need more students to attend the hearing.”

By Wednesday evening, Cole’s guts were tied up in knots. Peter met him early and they walked the half mile to the district office together. “Do you think the board members will change their minds?” Peter asked.

“They better,” Cole answered defiantly, “or we’ll be a pain in their butts.”

“Yeah, we’ll be hemorrhoids.”

Nearly one hundred people crowded the room as the chairman called the meeting to order. Cole glanced around. Keith had not come tonight, nor had he helped the group since the night he talked to Peter. A reporter from the local newspaper sat at one side taking notes. Cole also noticed a large number of parents attending—that could be good or bad depending on whose side they were on. Shortly after the meeting began, Ms. Kennedy slipped in and seated herself alone near the back.

As before, the meeting droned on and on with financial discussions, salary decisions, and policy reviews. Finally the chairman announced, “Now it’s time to discuss the Spirit Bear issue. Mr. Matthews, would you begin by explaining the students’ proposal?”

Cole struggled to stay calm as he approached the microphone. Once again he spoke briefly of going to Alaska as banishment. He mentioned the suicide, vandalism, and beating that had occurred at school. Then he described the students’ Circle around the football field and the proposal to change the mascot. “A Spirit Bear helped me understand myself during banishment. How can you ask us to be kind to each other if our mascot is a snarling bulldog?”

“I understand a Spirit Bear mauled you,” a board member said.

“Only to protect himself. The Spirit Bear also let me touch him when I quit being angry. We want to change the mascot to a Spirit Bear because the students at Minneapolis Central have decided to turn their school around. Changing the mascot is our symbol of that effort. The Spirit Bear represents our own inner strength.”

As soon as the chairman opened the floor for discussion, several parents approached the microphone. “Our teams have always been the Minneapolis Bulldogs,” the first mother argued. “That’s tradition.”

“We have deep financial problems right now,” the next parent said. “It’s irresponsible to change mascots at this time. Changing band and sport uniforms alone would cost twenty or thirty thousand. That’s too much money to spend so that somebody can have a cute little teddy bear on their jersey.”

Cole forced deep breaths to keep from getting angry. Most of the adults here tonight had come to fight his proposal. What had he expected?

“Can anybody else address the cost issue?” a board member asked, looking toward the student section.

A quiet tenth-grader named Tina Olson approached the microphone. She sounded very businesslike when she said, “We checked and most of the uniforms at the school are almost twenty years old. I don’t know anybody who wears clothes that old. Besides, we don’t need to change the whole uniform to change the logo. All you need to do is change the jersey on the sport uniforms. With the band uniforms, we just have to make the Spirit Bear logo big enough to cover the bulldog.”

Tina looked down at a piece of paper in her hand. “Our estimate is only four thousand three-hundred and eighty-two dollars and six cents. We’re already planning fund-raisers. Changing mascots shouldn’t cost the school anything.” She returned to her seat as board members jotted down notes.

The next man to approach the microphone looked like a bulldog himself and grew even more belligerent. “I’m not going to stand here and let a bunch of impulsive children destroy our Bulldog tradition,” the stocky man challenged. “What about the cost of a new mascot statue? You can’t just whittle that out in shop class.”

A shy boy Cole did not know stood and approached the microphone. “I’m new this year to Minneapolis Central,” he said. “I guess I don’t see the proud Bulldog tradition some parents have spoken about tonight. All I’ve seen are gangs and drugs. That’s not much of a tradition.”

When everybody had spoken, the chairman asked, “Are there any other comments before we vote on this issue?”

Ms. Kennedy stood and came forward. After stating her name and address, she said, “I hadn’t intended to speak this evening, but I want this board to be aware of what will happen when they vote. If the students lose, I predict a dangerous explosion of emotions tomorrow—students will think they weren’t given a fair hearing and their voices didn’t count. Likewise, if the students win, I think much of the booster support we enjoy will be at risk.”

Board members nodded as Ms. Kennedy spoke. Cole noticed the district superintendent in the audience. The silver-haired man listened intently but showed no emotion.

“Claims will be made that not all the facts were presented,” Ms. Kennedy continued. “There will be accusations that board members themselves weren’t well enough informed or that not enough notice was made for community comment before the vote. Many parents and students weren’t even aware this issue would be voted on tonight.

“There could even be the risk of lawsuits. I guarantee, no matter how the board votes, there will be a fallout of anger and controversy. I suggest that your vote be deferred so you can hold a special meeting for the community. I think it would be prudent.” Ms. Kennedy returned to her seat.

The board members spoke briefly among themselves, and then the chairman announced, “We agree with Ms. Kennedy. Considering the number of people here tonight, we will take final comments and vote on this issue at a special session in a larger meeting area. The date and location will be posted. A school’s mascot is not to be taken lightly.”

Cole noticed the local reporter scribbling furiously on her notepad. The chairman looked down at his paperwork and said, “The next item of business is district rezoning.”

As Cole and Peter left the crowded room with the other students, the reporter approached Cole. “Do you really think changing the school mascot can change your school?” she asked.

Cole hesitated. “If we can change the mascot, maybe students will realize that they can control their own futures. This is all about change.”

“Thanks.” The reporter hastily waved down a couple of other students for interviews.

In the parking lot, Cole spotted Ms. Kennedy leaving and ran over to her. “How did this get to be such a big deal? All we want is to change a mascot,” he complained. “We’re not hurting anyone. Those parents make it sound like we’re robbing a bank. We’re just trying to change a picture on a wall.”

“I thought you said a mascot was a lot more than that,” Ms. Kennedy answered. “Otherwise you wouldn’t have suggested the change. Would you be doing all this work for just a painting on a wall? Was that what you encountered on the island, a cute little teddy bear? Is that what changed your heart, a teddy bear?”

Cole shook his head. “Okay! Okay! You’re right—it is a whole lot more and it means a whole lot more.”

“Then start treating it that way,” Ms. Kennedy said.

Cole eyed Ms. Kennedy. “I can’t figure you out. When school started, you fought change. I figured you’d be gone in a week. Now I don’t know what to think. Why did you ask for a special session? Now we have to go through this whole thing again.”

Ms. Kennedy looked tired. “Because tonight you would have lost,” she said.

Chapter 15

T
WO DAYS LATER
, the date for the special hearing was posted: Tuesday evening, November 7, in the high school gym. Suddenly, Cole became the center of attention. The newspaper interviewed him, and the local radio and television stations recorded segments for their evening news. Cole didn’t like all the publicity. He wasn’t always sure what to say except to encourage everyone to support changing the mascot. He found it worked better to speak from his heart instead of from his brain.

Keith kept to himself, not talking to Cole or helping the group anymore. Cole noticed he wasn’t hanging around his old friends either.

Cole had never dreamed his proposal would turn into such a big deal. Students kept stopping him in the hallways to ask what he was going to do differently at the final hearing.

“I don’t know,” Cole answered each time.

He voiced his worries to Ms. Kennedy. “We’ve done all we can. We’ve put up posters all over town and in the school. The newspaper, radio stations, and television have helped, but I feel we should be doing more.”

“There is one more thing,” Ms. Kennedy said. “Make sure every student shows up.”

Over the weekend, Cole’s team spent every spare minute posting notices around town:
HELP THE SPIRIT BEARS WIN
and
BE A SPIRIT BEAR, NOT A MUTT.
Cole found himself glad when their football team lost their next game—it made it harder for parents to come to the hearing and brag about the school’s proud Bulldog tradition.

Unable to sleep Sunday night, Cole crawled out onto the porch roof from his upstairs bedroom. He lay back and stared up at the sky. The darkness reminded him of the island. He thought about his struggle to change the mascot. He did want to make a difference in the world. He wanted to honor his ancestors and make them proud. But how? On the island, his choices had been few. It had been all about surviving, cooking, and cutting firewood. He’d eaten bugs and worms, even a mouse and his own puke. Here it was less simple. His opponent wasn’t an injury, hunger, or weather. It was a school board and a whole community of parents and students.

On Monday, Ms. Kennedy offered to make an announcement to encourage attendance at the hearing.

“Thanks,” Cole said, “but most students ignore announcements. Could you call everybody into the gym and ask them to attend? Like a pep rally?”

Ms. Kennedy shook her head. “I can’t take any more time from teaching periods.”

“Everybody talks big, but nobody wants to stick their neck out,” Cole said.

“I hope you’re not talking about me.”

“If the shoe fits…”

Ms. Kennedy gave him a sharp look. “I’ll make a deal with you, Mr. Matthews,” she said, not smiling. “Tomorrow morning I’ll call a full assembly in the gym, but you’re the one who will do the talking.”

“Why me?” he asked.

“Because everybody talks big but nobody wants to stick their neck out.”

That night, Cole hardly slept a wink. He had fought Keith with his heart, but could he fight a school board and a gym full of angry parents with his heart? He dreamed of students laughing at him.

The next morning, true to her word, Ms. Kennedy called a full assembly. She quieted the students and then turned the microphone over to Cole. “Now it’s up to you,” she whispered.

Cole had written all that he wanted to say on a piece of paper, but when he looked at it now, the words blurred together. He paused to gather his thoughts and then folded the paper and just began speaking from his heart. “Tonight is the final hearing by the school board, here in this gym at seven o’clock. I’m not going to beg you to come. All I want to tell you is that there is a mess of adults who don’t really respect you. They don’t think you can make much of a difference. But this is
your
school now.

“We are making a difference with the things we’re doing. We now have a newspaper, we have students helping other students study, and we have students helping to decide the dress code.” Cole laughed. “The teachers still don’t want us to grade them, but we are making a difference. We’ve already proved a lot of adults wrong. I know one thing—deep down, every one of you does care.”

Cole paused the way he had seen Ms. Kennedy pause before saying something really important. Then he spoke quietly. “Tomorrow morning, each of you will get up and look in the mirror and know if you cared enough about yourself to help make a difference.” Cole spoke louder. “Our school board and many parents don’t think we care, so tonight let’s all prove them wrong!”

It started with only a couple of shouts: “Go, Spirit Bears!” But slowly the chant grew louder and louder, spreading through the bleachers. “Go, Spirit Bears! Go, Spirit Bears! Go, Spirit Bears!”

Cole glanced at Ms. Kennedy sitting in the front row. She gave him a wink.

After school, Cole avoided Peter and returned home to spend time by himself. A little past six, he reminded his mother of the hearing but insisted on walking to the school alone. “I need time to think,” he told her. He grabbed a quick sandwich and then headed out, walking the five blocks slowly. When he arrived, the parking lot was filling with cars. People crowded into the gym, excited as if they’d come for a basketball game. It scared Cole to think he was responsible for starting this whole thing. There was still a part of him that thought of himself as a loser.

On purpose, Cole sat alone in the back of the bleachers, looking out over the swelling crowd. To focus his mind, he closed his eyes and imagined a proud Spirit Bear walking toward him on the shoreline. The bear kept coming nearer and nearer as the time for the meeting approached.

Just before seven, board members arrived and found their places at a table set up on the basketball court. The gym was packed. At seven o’clock sharp, the chairman called the meeting to order. “Tonight is the final hearing on the proposal to change the proud Minneapolis Central Bulldog mascot to a Spirit Bear. The board calls Cole Matthews as the students’ representative to explain the proposal.”