Student, Westerly High School

All it took for Uncle Sam to find me

…or at least that and my name. Thursday, the twenty-ninth of March seemed innocuous, harmless, the same as any other typical day of the week. First period passed, uneventful and uninteresting. Second period subsided, a testament to normalcy. I proceeded to plod across the walkway, teased by a guise of New England spring.

Barely through the door into my third period class, I was greeted by a message that I had been called down to the office. (I would later discover that I was called down as "Theodore J. Capaldi," the name with which I signed the letter) So, after dropping my books and jacket, I traversed downstairs to the principal's office, anxiety increasingly disrupting my demeanor. Confusion, apprehension, and uncertainty crept in with every step I took toward the office.

As I sunk down into the seat, I immediately noticed the school resource officer seated over to the left. All sorts of thoughts ran through my mind, yet I remained composed. "Don't worry, you're not in trouble," were the first words from the principal's mouth, lifting what felt like thousands of pounds from my shoulders. Still, the purpose of the visit stood unclear.

Right away she mentioned a letter to Senator Reed. Surely, she was referring to the letter that I had posted on this blog on the previous Monday night - the entry directly below this one. However, this baffled me, because I had not even mailed the letter at this point, and the idea that my school principal had been browsing my anti-PBGR blog seemed a bit farfectch'd.

Through the discussion that followed, the three of us in the office concluded that my letter had been unearthed by some government agency. (Editor's Note: In fact, however, we were wrong - the representative from the USDOE actually discovered it himself) The principal informed me that the the United States Department of Education (USDOE) had contacted the Superintendent of Westerly Public Schools regarding my letter. Furthermore, they had expressed interest in sending a representative to meet with me to discuss the contents of the letter, citing feelings that the letter was "well-written," but also that I may be "misinformed."

We agreed that this was a positive development. I told her that I was hopeful and optimistic for the meeting. In reality though, every single imaginable emotion overwhelmed me as I made my way back to class with a grin on my face and a skip in my step. This is to be expected when one is tracked down by one's government in less than 36 hours. This is the fact of the matter, though. Big brother is watching.

Tomorrow is the day. It is the day I will meet with the USDOE. I remain hopeful and optimistic. I know that I will not only be speaking for myself, but for the entirety of the student body, and all of Rhode Island's frustrated and concerned students. This will be the prevailing thought in my mind tomorrow. Although I see this as progress, and am equally excited as I am surprised that I have gotten this far, I am not one to count my chickens before they hatch. I do not expect any success to be instant, but I feel that exercising our first amendment rights and voicing our collective grievances is the greatest success we can all have.

The unprecedented support from students of every class, teachers, administrators, and other adults encourages me to carry on, and I appreciate it wholeheartedly. I find this quote from Voltaire very grounding, however:

"It is dangerous to be right when the government is wrong."

By no means do I view the government as a grim and threatening force that will put down any subversive that plots against it. Nor do I see myself as any sort of radical subversive. Tomorrow represents the beginning of a culmination of all our efforts to make a change. Through compromise and a scrupulous consideration of the everyday realities, I hope that our tribulations will be realized tomorrow, and I will do my utmost to see that it happens.