{"id":1206,"date":"2021-05-12T15:59:18","date_gmt":"2021-05-12T22:59:18","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/annroberts.net\/?page_id=1206"},"modified":"2021-05-14T14:08:31","modified_gmt":"2021-05-14T21:08:31","slug":"convincing-hour","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/annroberts.net\/index.php\/young-adult\/convincing-hour\/","title":{"rendered":"The Convincing Hour"},"content":{"rendered":"<div id=\"pl-1206\"  class=\"panel-layout\" ><div id=\"pg-1206-0\"  class=\"panel-grid panel-no-style\" ><div id=\"pgc-1206-0-0\"  class=\"panel-grid-cell\" ><div id=\"panel-1206-0-0-0\" class=\"so-panel widget widget_sow-editor panel-first-child panel-last-child\" data-index=\"0\" ><div class=\"panel-widget-style panel-widget-style-for-1206-0-0-0\" ><div\n\t\t\t\n\t\t\tclass=\"so-widget-sow-editor so-widget-sow-editor-base\"\n\t\t\t\n\t\t>\n<div class=\"siteorigin-widget-tinymce textwidget\">\n\t<h2>The Convincing Hour<\/h2>\n<\/div>\n<\/div><\/div><\/div><\/div><\/div><div id=\"pg-1206-1\"  class=\"panel-grid panel-no-style\" ><div id=\"pgc-1206-1-0\"  class=\"panel-grid-cell\" ><div id=\"panel-1206-1-0-0\" class=\"so-panel widget widget_sow-image panel-first-child\" data-index=\"1\" ><div\n\t\t\t\n\t\t\tclass=\"so-widget-sow-image so-widget-sow-image-default-13f2a8b12fcc-1206\"\n\t\t\t\n\t\t>\n<div class=\"sow-image-container\">\n\t\t<img \n\tsrc=\"https:\/\/annroberts.net\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/05\/Convincing-Hour-ARoberts-229x300.jpg\" width=\"229\" height=\"300\" srcset=\"https:\/\/annroberts.net\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/05\/Convincing-Hour-ARoberts-229x300.jpg 229w, https:\/\/annroberts.net\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/05\/Convincing-Hour-ARoberts.jpg 761w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 229px) 100vw, 229px\" title=\"Convincing Hour ARoberts\" alt=\"\" \t\tclass=\"so-widget-image\"\/>\n\t<\/div>\n\n<\/div><\/div><div id=\"panel-1206-1-0-1\" class=\"so-panel widget widget_sow-button panel-last-child\" data-index=\"2\" ><div class=\"panel-widget-style panel-widget-style-for-1206-1-0-1\" ><div\n\t\t\t\n\t\t\tclass=\"so-widget-sow-button so-widget-sow-button-atom-35500a5eb44b-1206\"\n\t\t\t\n\t\t><div class=\"ow-button-base ow-button-align-center\"\n>\n\t\t\t<a\n\t\t\t\t\thref=\"https:\/\/www.bellabooks.com\/product\/9781642472523\/\"\n\t\t\t\t\tclass=\"sowb-button ow-icon-placement-left ow-button-hover\" \t>\n\t\t<span>\n\t\t\t\n\t\t\tBUY\t\t<\/span>\n\t\t\t<\/a>\n\t<\/div>\n<\/div><\/div><\/div><\/div><div id=\"pgc-1206-1-1\"  class=\"panel-grid-cell\" ><div id=\"panel-1206-1-1-0\" class=\"so-panel widget widget_sow-editor panel-first-child panel-last-child\" data-index=\"3\" ><div class=\"panel-widget-style panel-widget-style-for-1206-1-1-0\" ><div\n\t\t\t\n\t\t\tclass=\"so-widget-sow-editor so-widget-sow-editor-base\"\n\t\t\t\n\t\t>\n<div class=\"siteorigin-widget-tinymce textwidget\">\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<h3 style=\"margin-bottom:20px ;display:block;width:100%;margin-top:10px\">The Convincing Hour <\/h3>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<style>\r\n\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t#tab_container_1202 {\r\n\toverflow:hidden;\r\n\tdisplay:block;\r\n\twidth:100%;\r\n\tborder:0px solid #ddd;\r\n\tmargin-bottom:30px;\r\n\t}\r\n\r\n#tab_container_1202 .tab-content{\r\n\tpadding:20px;\r\n\tborder: 1px solid #e6e6e6 !important;\r\n\tmargin-top: 0px;\r\n\tbackground-color:#ffffff !important;\r\n\tcolor: #000000 !important;\r\n\tfont-size:18px !important;\r\n\tfont-family: Arial !important;\r\n\t\r\n\t\tborder: 1px solid #e6e6e6 !important;\r\n\t}\r\n#tab_container_1202 .wpsm_nav-tabs {\r\n    border-bottom: 0px solid #ddd;\r\n}\r\n#tab_container_1202 .wpsm_nav-tabs > li.active > a, #tab_container_1202 .wpsm_nav-tabs > li.active > a:hover, #tab_container_1202 .wpsm_nav-tabs > li.active > a:focus {\r\n\tcolor: #000000 !important;\r\n\tcursor: default;\r\n\tbackground-color: #ffffff !important;\r\n\tborder: 1px solid #e6e6e6 !important;\r\n}\r\n\r\n#tab_container_1202 .wpsm_nav-tabs > li > a {\r\n    margin-right: 0px !important; \r\n    line-height: 1.42857143 !important;\r\n    border: 1px solid #ced6db !important;\r\n    border-radius: 0px 0px 0 0 !important; \r\n\tbackground-color: #e1e9ee !important;\r\n\tcolor: #000000 !important;\r\n\tpadding: 15px 18px 15px 18px !important;\r\n\ttext-decoration: none !important;\r\n\tfont-size: 15px !important;\r\n\ttext-align:center !important;\r\n\tfont-family: Arial !important;\r\n}\r\n#tab_container_1202 .wpsm_nav-tabs > li > a:focus {\r\noutline: 0px !important;\r\n}\r\n\r\n#tab_container_1202 .wpsm_nav-tabs > li > a:before {\r\n\tdisplay:none !important;\r\n}\r\n#tab_container_1202 .wpsm_nav-tabs > li > a:after {\r\n\tdisplay:none !important ;\r\n}\r\n#tab_container_1202 .wpsm_nav-tabs > li{\r\npadding:0px !important ;\r\nmargin:0px;\r\n}\r\n\r\n#tab_container_1202 .wpsm_nav-tabs > li > a:hover , #tab_container_1202 .wpsm_nav-tabs > li > a:focus {\r\n    color: #000000 !important;\r\n    background-color: #e1e9ee !important;\r\n\tborder: 1px solid #ced6db !important;\r\n\t\r\n}\r\n#tab_container_1202 .wpsm_nav-tabs > li > a .fa{\r\n\r\nmargin-right:5px !important;\r\n\r\nmargin-left:5px !important;\r\n\r\n\r\n}\r\n\r\n\t\t#tab_container_1202 .wpsm_nav-tabs a{\r\n\t\t\tbackground-image: none;\r\n\t\t\tbackground-position: 0 0;\r\n\t\t\tbackground-repeat: repeat-x;\r\n\t\t}\r\n\t\t\t\r\n\r\n\r\n#tab_container_1202 .wpsm_nav-tabs > li {\r\n    float: left;\r\n    margin-bottom: -1px !important;\r\n\tmargin-right:0px !important; \r\n}\r\n\r\n\r\n#tab_container_1202 .tab-content{\r\noverflow:hidden !important;\r\n}\r\n\r\n\r\n@media (min-width: 769px) {\r\n\r\n\t#tab_container_1202 .wpsm_nav-tabs > li{\r\n\t\tfloat:left !important ;\r\n\t\t\t\tmargin-right:-1px !important;\r\n\t\t\t\t\t}\r\n\t#tab_container_1202 .wpsm_nav-tabs{\r\n\t\tfloat:none !important;\r\n\t\tmargin:0px !important;\r\n\t}\r\n\r\n\t#tab_container_1202 .wpsm_nav-tabs > li {\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tmargin-right: 8px !important;\r\n\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\r\n\t}\r\n\t#tab_container_1202 .wpsm_nav{\r\n\t\t\t}\r\n\r\n}\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n@media (max-width: 768px) {\r\n\t#tab_container_1202 .wpsm_nav-tabs > li {\r\n\t\t\t\tmargin-bottom: 8px !important;\r\n\t\tmargin-right:0px !important;\r\n\t\tmargin-left:0px !important;\r\n\t\t\t\t\r\n\t}\r\n\t#tab_container_1202 .wpsm_nav{\r\n\t\t\t}\r\n}\r\n\r\n\r\n\t.wpsm_nav-tabs li:before{\r\n\t\tdisplay:none !important;\r\n\t}\r\n\r\n\t@media (max-width: 768px) {\r\n\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t#tab_container_1202 .wpsm_nav-tabs  li  a  i{\r\n\t\t\t\tdisplay: none !important;\r\n\t\t\t}\r\n\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t.wpsm_nav-tabs{\r\n\t\t\tmargin-left:0px !important;\r\n\t\t\tmargin-right:0px !important; \r\n\t\t\t\r\n\t\t}\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t#tab_container_1202 .wpsm_nav-tabs > li {\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tmargin-right: 8px !important;\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t}\r\n\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\r\n\t}\t\t\t\t<\/style>\r\n\t\t\t\t<div id=\"tab_container_1202\" >\r\n\t \r\n\t\t\t\t\t<ul class=\"wpsm_nav wpsm_nav-tabs\" role=\"tablist\" id=\"myTab_1202\">\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<li role=\"presentation\"  class=\"active\"  onclick=\"do_resize()\">\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<a href=\"#tabs_desc_1202_1\" aria-controls=\"tabs_desc_1202_1\" role=\"tab\" data-toggle=\"tab\">\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<span>ABOUT THE BOOK<\/span>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/a>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/li>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<li role=\"presentation\"  onclick=\"do_resize()\">\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<a href=\"#tabs_desc_1202_2\" aria-controls=\"tabs_desc_1202_2\" role=\"tab\" data-toggle=\"tab\">\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<span>BACKSTORY<\/span>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/a>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/li>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<li role=\"presentation\"  onclick=\"do_resize()\">\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<a href=\"#tabs_desc_1202_3\" aria-controls=\"tabs_desc_1202_3\" role=\"tab\" data-toggle=\"tab\">\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<span>EXCERPT<\/span>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/a>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/li>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<li role=\"presentation\"  onclick=\"do_resize()\">\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<a href=\"#tabs_desc_1202_4\" aria-controls=\"tabs_desc_1202_4\" role=\"tab\" data-toggle=\"tab\">\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<span>VIDEO<\/span>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/a>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/li>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t <\/ul>\r\n\r\n\t\t\t\t\t  <!-- Tab panes -->\r\n\t\t\t\t\t  <div class=\"tab-content\" id=\"tab-content_1202\">\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t <div role=\"tabpanel\" class=\"tab-pane  in active \" id=\"tabs_desc_1202_1\">\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<p>Juvenile delinquents are vanishing from Lakeview, Michigan. Story Black, a brilliant fifteen-year-old, has heard the smartest kids go from jail to a special school\u2014and then college. The mastermind behind it all is Lakeview\u2019s newest citizen, Charlotte \u201cChar\u201d Barnaby, a former high school principal and winner of the largest lottery jackpot in history. She brings her powerful billions back to her dying hometown, determined to save it and the worthiest children\u2014regardless of what it costs.<\/p>\r\n<p>Story plans to be next. Getting arrested is easy but getting out of Lakeview may be impossible. Standing between her and her new life is her mother, Patty Black, a meth user with a genius I.Q. and a mysterious past of her own. Char launches an elaborate scheme to convince Patty to let Story go, but Patty is an immovable force, unwilling to put Story\u2019s happiness before her own. If Story wants the future she sees, she must confront her mother and be willing to lose everything, even their relationship.<\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t <\/div>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t <div role=\"tabpanel\" class=\"tab-pane \" id=\"tabs_desc_1202_2\">\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<p>Several years ago during my tenure as an educational consultant, I was sitting in a classroom watching an excellent teacher engage every student in her room. They volunteered answers, respectfully commented on each other\u2019s opinions and seemed genuinely thrilled about learning. No one acted out and no one refused to do what the teacher asked. It was the dream lesson teachers strive to achieve every day they teach. It was the ideal classroom.\u00a0<\/p>\r\n<p>Then I remembered where I was sitting: juvenile detention.\u00a0<\/p>\r\n<p>I scanned the room, noticing the gray sweatpants, various-colored T-shirts, and the slip-on Vans. No one held a pencil longer than three inches since it could be used as a weapon. Many had tattoos creeping up their respective necks or down past their wrists. When it was time to do their independent work, they focused on their computers while two correction officers strolled down the aisles.\u00a0<\/p>\r\n<p>I knew each child had a heartbreaking story and to be sentenced to detention meant the kid had done something horrible or couldn\u2019t stop committing a minor infraction and detention was the last resort. Yes, these were the bad kids but they sure didn\u2019t act like it. What was different? As a school principal, I knew kids like this\u2014in fact, I saw one there that had been at my school. They were constantly in trouble and consumed dozens of hours in finding services, working with the courts, supporting the families, and working with the police. Still, very little improved.<\/p>\r\n<p>When I asked the detention principal, Frank Burnsed, why these habitually unsuccessful students were suddenly finding success and planning for a bright future, he explained that once the temptations were removed, as well as poor role models and a culture of the streets, many of the kids thrived. We spoke about life after jail and he shook his head. While some of the students would never see the inside of a cell again, many would return and a decent percentage would face prison. A lot of the kids hated the idea of leaving detention because they knew what waited for them.\u00a0<\/p>\r\n<p>I thought about those kids and what it would take to change the trajectory of their lives so they could thrive and be successful. It would take a lot of money, changing a lot of laws that keep the poor and minorities down, dispelling some long-held notions about \u201cfamily,\u201d and admitting that for many of our kids, the current educational system is broken.<\/p>\r\n<p>The Convincing Hour is both a love letter to all of my students and an answer to the question I asked myself. Story Black is a survivalist, taking care of herself and her genius-I.Q. mother, Patty, a meth addict. Story wants something better for herself and she realizes that road leads through the local juvenile detention facility to a school designed by Charlotte Barnaby, a former principal who wins the largest lottery ever. The only person standing between Story and her future is Patty.\u00a0<\/p>\r\n<p>Can Story stand up to Patty and rewrite her predictable future?<\/p>\r\n<p>\u00a0<\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t <\/div>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t <div role=\"tabpanel\" class=\"tab-pane \" id=\"tabs_desc_1202_3\">\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<p><p style=\"text-align: center;\">Chapter Four<\/p><br \/>\u201cWhat\u2019s your name?\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cStory. Story Black.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cHow old are you?\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cFifteen. Sixteen in a month.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cAnd why are you in jail?\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cI held up a convenience store with another girl.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cDid you know she had a knife?\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cNo,\u201d I lied.<\/p>\r\n<p>The woman interviewing me called herself Margaret, but I knew that wasn\u2019t her real name. She\u2019d looked slightly to the right when she introduced herself, like she was scrolling through her contacts, picking a name just for this interview. She glanced at an open folder in front of her, confirming what I said was true. While she debated her next question, I listened to the muffled kabooms of the hallway door clanging shut every time someone entered or exited the visitor\u2019s area of juvenile detention. I re-crossed my legs and accidentally kicked one of the table\u2019s plastic legs.<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cSorry,\u201d I said quickly.<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cNo worries,\u201d Margaret replied without looking up from her notes. \u201cFirst time offender. Decent grades in school, although teachers say you could do better. It says your probation officer is Charity Aguilera.\u201d She paused and added, \u201cGreat name for a P.O.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cYeah. She always makes fun of her name.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>Margaret scanned the P.O. log that Charity filled out when we met each week. \u201cSays you\u2019re doing great.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>I nodded and my knee bumped the table leg again. \u201cAgain, sorry.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>Margaret looked up and smiled warmly. \u201cIt\u2019s okay. Take a deep breath. These rooms are the size of a shoebox.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>She wasn\u2019t kidding. The tiny interview room was barely big enough for two people, and we had three counting the videographer, plus a camera on a tripod. I pictured myself frozen so I\u2019d stop flailing around like a baby. Wilkey, a kid who\u2019d been interviewed a few weeks before, told me to chill while I waited for each question. He thought his nervousness fucked up his chances.<\/p>\r\n<p>Margaret\u2019s brown eyes sucked me in. \u201cWhat\u2019s the worst part about being in jail, Story?\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cThe little pencils,\u201d I said automatically.<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>I sat up straight. \u201cThey\u2019re symbols, like symbols in literature. Outside in regular schools nobody ever keeps a short pencil. You throw it out and get a new one from the teacher. But in here it\u2019s the best we\u2019ll get and it\u2019s really hard to write with a tiny pencil. My hand starts to cramp. And I like to write. Sometimes I think about the teachers sitting at home, breaking perfectly good pencils in half while they watch their favorite shows. Then before they go to bed, they sharpen them down to practically nothing. Such a waste.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cYou understand why the detention teachers only supply short pencils, right? It\u2019s a safety issue.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cI get it. Nobody\u2019s gonna shank somebody with a tiny stub.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>Her eyes narrowed as if she were studying a speck. \u201cWhy do you do that?\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cDo what?\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cYou talk about literary symbols like a college professor and then you revert to colloquial street language. Why?\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>I couldn\u2019t hide my surprise. \u201cWell,\u201d I mumbled, \u201cI\u2019ve realized there\u2019s a way to act in here. A way to talk so you don\u2019t sound stuck up and people don\u2019t give you shit. That\u2019s really how it is in life.\u201d I shrugged. \u201cI don\u2019t know.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>When I looked up, she was staring at me. \u201cThat\u2019s not true. We\u2019ve been watching you, Story. There isn\u2019t much you don\u2019t know.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>She smiled and I felt a tug at the corners of my mouth. She was pretty. Her skin was much darker than mine, and she had soft brown eyes and raven-colored hair. She was tall, so tall she had to sit sideways because her legs wouldn\u2019t fit under the cheap plastic table with the high heels she wore. The red leather pumps matched the silk blouse underneath her black suit. She probably ate at trendy restaurants and sipped champagne with a group of female friends who possessed equally fabulous smiles.<\/p>\r\n<p>The thought of beautiful women made me tingle. I liked girls. It was part of the reason I was in jail.<\/p>\r\n<p>Her stylus flew across the face of her tablet as she took notes\u2014notes about me. I wanted to say something unique to her, something that would make me stand out so she\u2019d remember me.<\/p>\r\n<p>Nobody is memorable in jail. That\u2019s the point. Everybody wears the same blue drawstring pants and Vans rip-off slippers. The T-shirts are different colors depending on your behavior. I wore red and that meant I'd never gotten a strike from a Corrections Officer, a CO. I knew Margaret talked to a lot of kids and I imagined they rolled into one crazy juvenile delinquent with a really sad wardrobe.<\/p>\r\n<p>I glanced at the camera in the corner. Like the blinking green light, I needed to be ON. My hands sweated and I rubbed them on my thighs while I waited for the next question. My leg bounced nervously and I pressed my heels to the floor to stop it. I didn\u2019t want to bump the table again.<\/p>\r\n<p>Margaret looked over her shoulder at the videographer crammed in the corner playing with her phone. She was Margaret\u2019s opposite\u2014short, blond and white. Her hair flipped to one side and scrambled in a few directions from the product she\u2019d applied. She wore a T-shirt underneath an old corduroy jacket with leather patches on the elbows, and the cuffs of her jeans were tucked into sleek black boots. Sleek was definitely the right word for her.<br \/>She\u2019d arrived first and stuck a microphone on my T-shirt to test it. \u201cAre you nervous?\u201d she\u2019d asked.<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cYeah,\u201d I admitted. \u201cWhat kind of questions will she ask me?\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>She leaned closer and glanced around the room, as if she was about to betray a secret. Then she said, \u201cYou\u2019ll be asked to recite the Declaration of Independence.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>My eyes bugged out. \u201cSeriously?\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>She laughed and shook her head.<\/p>\r\n<p>I let out a deep breath and laughed with her. \u201cI\u2019m glad you\u2019re kidding. I know it\u2019s an important document to the founding of our country, but I couldn\u2019t recite it.\u201d I noticed a copy of George Eliot\u2019s Middlemarch sticking out of her camera bag. \u201cI really liked that book,\u201d I offered. I figured it couldn\u2019t hurt to be pleasant with her. Maybe she\u2019d put in a good word for me.<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cWhat other books have you read?\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cEverything by Jane Austen. And I love Kurt Vonnegut and Willa Cather\u2014and Mary Oliver. Just lots of people.\u201d I didn\u2019t want to name the hundreds of authors I\u2019d read and sound stuck up.<\/p>\r\n<p>She smiled and said, \u201cAll great ones. Just be yourself. I\u2019m Jill.\u201d We made small talk until Margaret arrived. Then Jill snuck behind the camera and turned it on. I stared at the light and willed myself to stop being nervous.<\/p>\r\n<p>Margaret set her tablet down and leaned back. \u201cYou have an interesting name. How\u2019d you get it?\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cIt\u2019s a long story.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>She chuckled. \u201cI\u2019d like to hear it.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cIt really would take too long to explain. I shouldn\u2019t have been born. What happened made the local newspapers and my mother still carries the clipping from the paper around. So, I\u2019m a story.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>I\u2019d never told anybody that much, but Wilkey said I needed to impress this lady if I wanted anything to happen. He called her the key to getting out\u2014out of jail and out of Lakeview, Michigan. Ms. Sutton had told me to be honest and respectful. I was trying.<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cTell me about your family.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cI live with my mom now.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cAny brothers and sisters?\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cNope. I lived with my grandma, but she died two years ago and I went back to my mom.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cIs your father in the picture?\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>I shook my head. She didn\u2019t write down my answer, so I could tell she already knew. \u201cIt\u2019s just me and Mom now that Gran\u2019s dead.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>She glanced at the folder. \u201cHer name was Matilda Black, right?\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cAnd your mother is Patience.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cYes, but she goes by Patty. Patience doesn\u2019t really fit her.\u201d I tried not to make it sound sarcastic but I snorted at the end of the comment.<\/p>\r\n<p>She grinned but kept her eyes glued to the tablet. I waited for her to ask me about Mom\u2019s six trips to rehab and why my home life was so screwed up, or how I\u2019d wound up in jail, but she didn\u2019t ask those questions like the other fourteen adults who\u2019d interviewed me. Instead she leaned forward and rested her chin on her upturned palm.<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cStory, what are your dreams?\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>I took a deep breath and sat up straighter. I was ready for this one. \u201cI\u2019ve been thinking about some different career paths and weighing my options. I\u2019m a voracious reader but I also enjoy mathematics, specifically algebra. So, I could see myself becoming a journalist or an engineer.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>She nodded. \u201cThose are excellent career choices.\u201d She paused and asked, \u201cWhat are you passionate about?\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>My face dropped into a frown and I looked away. I\u2019d thought of every question I could imagine, but I never thought about passion. Of course I knew what the word meant, but it wasn\u2019t like I had time to paint, or sculpt or write. Surviving filled my day planner. I glanced at her razor-sharp gaze. She was watching me stumble around the answer. I shook my head. \u201cI\u2026 I don\u2019t know.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>She set down the iPad and stylus and crossed her arms. She looked shocked. \u201cYou can\u2019t answer the question?\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>I tried to hide my anger. I should\u2019ve seen this coming and planned an answer, even if it was a lie.<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cIt\u2019s a dumb question,\u201d I spat.<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cI\u2019m disappointed.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>I glared at her. \u201cDisappointed? What were you expecting? Some kind of a show? Maybe I\u2019d start reciting the Declaration of Independence for you?\u201d I glanced at Jill but she was focused on her viewfinder. \u201cOr was I supposed to just kiss your ass and act grateful that you asked to talk to me. Is that why you\u2019re disappointed or did I miss something?\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>She stuck her iPad and stylus in the messenger bag next to her. I sat back and closed my eyes. I\u2019d screwed up and missed my chance, a chance I\u2019d spent weeks planning for. I thought about what I\u2019d just said. It wasn\u2019t me. It was my mom talking. Even jail couldn\u2019t keep us apart. I sunk lower in the chair and buried my face in my hands.<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cCan I go back now?\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cDo you mean back to the unit or back to the street?\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cBoth.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cAbsolutely. Ms. Sutton gave you too much credit. I\u2019ll need to tell her she\u2019s losing her touch.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>My head shot up. Ms. Sutton was the best teacher I\u2019d ever known. Every day I was struck by the irony: I had to go to jail to get a great teacher. \u201cWhat does she have to do with this?\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cWho do you think recommended you for the SPOT?\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>SPOT was the Student Potential Opportunity Test and was given to kids in jail who proved they were literate and had more than street smarts. I\u2019d heard stories about kids who\u2019d aced the SPOT and left Lakeview. I\u2019d seen proof that at least one had gone to college. Maybe it was mostly smoke, but when I heard it, I figured out a way to get arrested.<\/p>\r\n<p>I stared at Margaret. I knew what she was doing. She was judging Ms. Sutton based on my behavior. If I didn\u2019t do well in this interview, Ms. Sutton would probably lose a bonus or a promotion. That\u2019s how adults worked. They were the cruelest to each other. Normally I wouldn\u2019t care but Ms. Sutton was different from all the other adults I knew. I inhaled, visualizing the oxygen tingling my brain and suffocating the image of my mother.<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cYour question is irrelevant.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>Her eyes darted toward Jill so I looked over at Jill too. Her finger rested on the on\/off button but she hadn\u2019t pushed it and the green light remained. Margaret was waiting to see what Jill wanted to do\u2014and not the other way around. Something was weird.<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cWho\u2019s running this show?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\r\n<p>They looked surprised. Neither said anything and my nervous leg bounced like crazy. I was in real trouble now. I\u2019d figured out their game.<\/p>\r\n<p>Jill stepped away from the camera. \u201cYou\u2019re very perceptive, Story.\u201d She slid into the chair between Margaret and me and asked, \u201cWhy do you suppose I would allow Margaret to ask you the questions?\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>I thought about my earlier conversation with Jill. Middlemarch. The fact that Margaret was supposedly late. \u201cYou wanted to watch me answer questions, but you also wanted to talk to me before we started. I wasn\u2019t as nervous then.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cExactly,\u201d she said.<\/p>\r\n<p>Margaret and Jill exchanged a nod. Margaret stepped behind the camera and Jill leaned on the table. \u201cNow, let\u2019s go back. Tell me why having dreams is irrelevant.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>How could I explain? \u201cHave you been to WalMart?\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cOnce or twice, but I usually try to avoid it. I\u2019m not much for obnoxious crowds.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cMe neither, but it\u2019s where you shop if you don\u2019t have much money.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cWhat does that have to do with your dreams?\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cSo one day I turned into the baby aisle by accident and these three women were there. They came from the other direction so I could see their faces. The oldest was probably in her fifties. She\u2019s holding a can of off-brand baby food and lecturing the youngest one, who\u2019s a little older than me. She\u2019s got on these teeny shorts and a string tank top. She\u2019s pretending to listen, but she\u2019s getting tired of standing there. She shifts her weight from one foot to the other and slides this toddler from her right hip to her left. I guess that it\u2019s a grandma and granddaughter. Grandma\u2019s talking about how it\u2019s her disability check, and there\u2019s no way she\u2019s paying eighty cents more for the name brand. Every time she takes a breath, the granddaughter tries to tell her the name brand\u2019s better for the kid because it\u2019s organic. They\u2019re getting louder and louder. Pretty soon the kid\u2019s crying. The girl lifts her shirt and shoves him to her breast to shut him up so they can keep fighting.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cWhat about the third woman?\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cShe\u2019s the one I noticed the most. I\u2019m guessing she was the granddaughter\u2019s mom.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cFour generations,\u201d Jill murmured.<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cYeah. She was leaning on the cart, not even paying attention to their fight over her head. She was there but she wasn\u2019t there. She was checked out. It was the look on her face that I remember.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cWhat did you see?\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cAt first I thought she might be stoned, but there was a moment when the grandma said something really cruel and the mom closed her eyes, like she was trying to keep it together and not scream at her own mother.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>Jill moved so close to me that I could smell the mint on her breath. \u201cAnd what do you think that look meant?\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cShe\u2019s helpless. Like she\u2019d realized this was her life. The grandma ranted, and the granddaughter was too young to know that her life was going be about fighting over eighty cents, day after day, week after week and year after year. She didn\u2019t see it yet but the mom got it. She was completely stuck and she\u2019d made sure her daughter was stuck too. I think she felt bad.\u201d Jill and Margaret exchanged a glance, but I couldn\u2019t tell if they were happy or upset with my answer.<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cWhat happened next?\u201d Jill asked.<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cI went three rows over and saw another grandma, mom, and daughter, only this daughter had two kids. So when you ask me about my dreams, that\u2019s what I see.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cYou think that will be you.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cWon\u2019t it?\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cWhere\u2019d you get such an advanced vocabulary? Your teachers in school?\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>I snorted, picturing tubby Mr. Gurlach behind his desk with a wad of chew in his cheek. \u201cNo, it wasn\u2019t my teachers. When I was little and lived with Gran, she\u2019d read the classics to me and we always had a word of the day. By the time I was in third grade, I knew a ton of words and the teachers kept sending me to the library during reading time. They didn\u2019t know what to do with me. I just kept checking out books from the library.\u201d Something occurred to me and I looked at Jill quizzically. \u201cI don\u2019t get it.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cGet what?\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cMy grandma did a great job with me but my mom\u2019s a mess. How come she didn\u2019t do such a great job with her?\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>Jill glanced at Margaret again. It was like a private joke I didn\u2019t understand. I hoped I wasn\u2019t the joke. I thought I\u2019d said something really stupid until she clutched my hand. I nearly jumped at her touch.<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cStory, you\u2019re amazing. I can\u2019t explain why your grandma did better by you than your mother, but the fact that you even recognize the significance is incredible. That\u2019s one reason why you\u2019re special. That\u2019s why we\u2019re having this conversation. I want you to have dreams. I want you to achieve them. What if I told you I could make sure you never have to worry about eighty cents ever again?\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>For a moment I didn\u2019t breath. 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