Chapter One: Council Crew
After school, most kids rush to buses and car pool. But every Tuesday, I dash to Ms. Flowers’s room for student council. Stepping through her door, you can’t help but stand a little taller. Black-and-white posters of people who made a difference smile at you from the walls: Supreme Court Justice Sonia Sotomayor, Congressman John Lewis, mathematician Katherine Johnson, architect Maya Lin, and scientist Ernest Everett Just.
Each one has yellow silk roses around their face. That’s for friendship. Before they were change-makers, Ms. Flowers says, they were somebody’s friend. Just like us.
“Welcome, Jada,” she said with a grin as bright as her sunny classroom.
“Hi, Ms. Flowers,” I called back.
Ms. Flowers always wears a blazer on top of a T-shirt that makes you think. Today’s was stop-sign red and said: “Make Someone’s Day.”
I spotted my buddy Miles and plopped onto a chair next to him. I love that we get to be in student council together. At first, he was an alternate for my class. But when a kid in another room had too many activities and asked to step down, Miles got his spot.
Student council president Chelsea Diaz, a fifth-grader, opened the meeting.
“The PTA thanks us for helping with the penny drive,” she said. “The money we raised will go to our school field trip fund. For our next fund-raiser, let’s think of something else that will make a big difference. Let’s start with the suggestion box.”
It was my turn to read the week’s ideas. I flipped open the shoebox covered in Brookside colors of silver and blue and saw just one note at the bottom. I unfolded the sheet of notebook paper, and my heart sank as I read:
It’s getting cold and I could use a new coat. Actually, my little brother could, too. Do you think student council could work on that? I thought about Raleigh. It doesn’t snow like crazy like my mom’s hometown of Syracuse, but some days are freezing. Mom told me that when she was little, her church collected and bought coats each year for people who needed them. Her family donated what they could. And one year, it was my mom and Uncle Rob who were picking new coats for themselves from the giving closet.
“What if we had a drive called ‘Coats for Caring’?” I said. “We could raise money to buy coats and give them to kids who need them here and in the community.”
“Great idea, Jada!” Chelsea said.
“I like that, too,” Miles said. “What if we had a ‘Caring Week,’ where everyone is reminded to show kindness?”
Ms. Flowers beamed at us like a proud parent.
“That’s the spirit!” she said. “Jada, I really like your idea. Along with raising money to buy coats, students and parents could bring in gently used ones, too. How are you going to inspire caring acts?”
“We could pass out kindness bingo boards for kids in kindergarten,” a third-grader named Justice said.
“And checklists for older ones,” another student added.
Chelsea nodded as the secretary took notes. She walked over to the whiteboard and grabbed a black dry-erase marker.
“Okay, what’s our fund-raiser going to be?”
She wrote our ideas down as we fired them off: Mile run. Cookie sales. Family night at restaurants. They were all good, but we’d been there, done that. We needed something fun and fresh.
“How about a dance?” Miles said.
As fast as kids rushing to the floor when a good song comes on, a buzz filled the room. Everyone nodded and whispered. Some showed off moves in their seats. It was a great idea, so why did I feel queasy? I chewed on my bottom lip as my stomach churned.
“Love that!” Chelsea said. “Ms. Flowers, what do you think? Could we have a dance? We could sell tickets, snacks, and yellow tissue-paper roses for friendship.”
“Sounds like you have a winner,” Ms. Flowers said with a wink. “Instead of selling tickets, let’s have donation boxes at the entrance. That way, everyone can go and just give if they can. We could also make up a list of fun dances and send pledge sheets home. People could donate money for each dance a student tries for an entire song.”
Around the room, students nudged each other and bounced in excitement. To close the meeting, we formed a circle, and Chelsea led us in our chant.
“The Council Crew!”
“It’s what we do!”
“The Council Crew!”
“It’s what we do!”
“The Council Crew!”
“It’s what we do!”
I grinned as I said goodbye to my buddies, but inside I groaned. Dancing with my besties Lena and Simone was cool, but trying out moves in front of everyone didn’t sound like fun to me. Sometimes my mind thinks one thing and my feet do another. But helping friends was what mattered most. I took a breath and let it out slowly. How hard could it be?
Copyright © 2019 by Kelly Starling Lyons; Illustrated by Nneka Myers. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
