I remember the day they formally opened Hana’s Dream, a handicapped-accessible park. The most notable event of that day was the fact that I stood next to a reporter as he, you know, reported. I ran home to see myself on the news as a minor character in the background.

Never did I dream of a day my little crusade would leave me as the top story for WTNH, with my face displayed proudly in the fold of their website. Yes, friends, enemies, and innocents, I followed through! I poked the bear.

Sadly, I made no great victory today, despite it all. But regardless, I shall tell my tale, for the sake of documenting it all, without any flashy cameras or pretty words or worries.

I wanted to go to school this morning. I packed my bag with my books and binder. But I also threw in three copies of my essay, the district policy book, and the letter that was sent to parents regarding the security measures. I rode for war.

I take the city bus in to school in the mornings. I get off at a corner, so I usually walk up the side of the school parking lot, cut through it, and end up at the back door. As I did that this morning, I saw the door that leads into the atheletic office (and on to the cafeteria) propped open. As I walked by, a student entered the building via this door.

So I finally came ’round the cafeteria’s outcropping and saw a massive crowd of Career students mulling around. Initially, I thought the metal detector had broken or there was some other hold up. But I was wrong; they wished to check about 95% of the student body. That…took awhile. I cannot imagine that being done in the winter time or on a rainy day by virtue of the attitudes students would take when forced to stand in the rain for half an hour…

So I very slowly made my way into the lobby and approached the administrator overseeing the whole mess. I stepped up to him and initiated a conversation I had rehersed and planned for a thousand times over the past three days. I began by asking him on what grounds the school wished to search me. He said they were looking for weapons. I asked if I was suspected of having such an item, and he said no. So I whipped the infamous quote from the handbook out of my memory and retorted with that.

At that point, I was essentially told too bad. Then I stated I was going to call the police, and the administrator did a double-take and re-evaluated me. He called over one of the officers milling around our checkpoint and told him to deal with me.

I explained that the searches were unjustified according to district policy and that I would not submit. He looked to the administrator and asked what he should do with me. It was decided I should stand off to the side and wait until the searches were concluded before dealing with my issue.

So there I stood. I watched probably half of the student body pass through the checkpoint. I simply stood, looking at everyone going through. Some of them made eye contact. Many of them knew what I had done without having to ask. Some simply ignored me. And others looked as if they wanted to ask, but were to polite to do so.

The time I spent standing there and watching was the most chilling period of time I have ever experienced. Our setup is very basic; we have a table where you put your bag and empty your pockets out on to. Somebody paws through your bag and slides it down the table. Then you step up to the detector and step through the portal. If it beeps, you are told to spread your arms and scanned with a wand.

What transpired was, to simply put it, repulsive. A police officer was behind the table, barking orders at the children. Stop. Walk. Spread your arms. My kinth were spoken to as if there were common, petty criminals. I once experienced a trio of policemen apprehending somebody they suspected of drug abuse. What I saw happening in the school–some of our best and brightest being ordered to throw their arms up–reminded me of that.

Let me reiterate that point. I saw children. Being treated. Like petty users.

And this is the ’security’ the district has given us. Such heroic acts!

But I digress. After all of that was said and done, the issue of my fate was once again the topic of the moment. I spoke with the administrator for a few minutes and gave him the overview of my reasoning. He was very reasonable. I made sure to explain that what I was doing was in no way personal, and that I was sorry that he and Ms. Coggins had to be the ones to deal with the problems. My qualm is with Dr. Mayo and his ilk, not our faculty.

A man walked into the building. I was told he was head of security for the district. He seemed unconcerned by the entire issue, and said if I objected, I should just be sent home and I could come back with my parents to argue. The administrator did not want to do that, so we went to find the princpal of the school.

Once again, I explained my reasoning. The issue that we all disagreed upon was whether or not the policy was changed. The staff, at first, told me it had changed. I asked to see it, and they said they did not have it to show. We reached a point where I said that they were asking me to argue against or adhere to a secret policy that nobody has seen yet, and I believe I convinced them (at least that I would not be turned from my course, if not of my argument).

My mother was called at this point. She pretty much told the school to stuff it. She was incredibly displeased that they had handfisted this ‘policy’ through AFTER the orientation and gave us exactly ONE day of notice before it was implemented.

So, next came the ineviable step. The one I had been prepared for since I first set eyes upon that bastard checkpoint. They needed to throw me out, or else set a dangerous precedent which would have been taken advantage of by the rest of the student body (I would have seen to that personally).

Our principal did not want to do it. She wanted me to go to class, but she understood what I was playing towards. So she picked the phone up and called level two tech support. The office of Dr. Mayo.

It took a few minutes to get somebody with authority on the phone. And they said what I expected; send him home. So that is what we did.

I went and spoke with another administrator and did a load of paperwork. After about half an hour, I was dismissed. It is worth noting that they wanted to dismiss me with work to do. They went so far as to call my teachers up and get the assignments. Unfortunately, the effort was in vain because nobody handed me the sheet when I was given a packet of papers to leave with, so I had to go collect the assignments myself.

So, I left. I walked into the city, past Uma Thurman filming some idiotic movie. I stopped at Subway and got a drink. And I went home.

As soon as I got home, I left a message with the ACLU of CT. They have not responded to a single query of mine, but I hope I can grab their attention. Then I left a message with my alderwoman, Arlene DePino. Then I put a call in to the news desk at WTNH. Then I send a pair of e-mails, one to the Register, the other to the Advocate. Finally, I sent an e-mail to the state attorney general, for good measure.

Then I bided my time. At some point in the afternoon, I got a call from someone from the superintendent’s office. I believe they had some kind of emegency meeting, based on what Ms. Coggins told me that morning. He called to tell us that there was no policy, but there would be one, and I am expected to follow it.

So then and there, they admitted I was right. They admitted that I had indeed found a flaw. I found they jumped the gun and put things into effect before they could justify them. I shone a light upon a massive scandal involving the district violating their policies and searching Cross and Hillhouse kids for years.

And what came of it? An apology? Was anyone asked to resign? Were there any reprimands?

Of course not. We’re just children. We don’t matter. I doubt these men will be held responsible for what they have done. I doubt I will ever recieve an apology from the office that deined me a day of my education without any justification whatsoever. But so is America….

I called the WTNH press desk up again and relayed this information to them. Later on in the evening, I was contacted by Sara Welch from WTNH. She talked to me on the phone for awhile. Then she talked to momma Evans. Then she made a few calls and talked to someone from the district office. Finally, she called me again and asked if she could come over and do a breif interview.

So she came. At this point in time, I was very … conflicted on where to take my little crusade next. It was all well and good that they are patching the hole I found. But where does that leave me? With a half-assed attempt at security and with some random clown wishing to paw through my bookbag every morning?

Really, I made no progress with today’s events. As of Monday, I will be required to submit to a search, and I am back to square one. And that search will never take place. Ever. I know what I said to the reporter contradicts this, but I have thought on it a lot. And what it comes back to is that I will not allow anyone to pick through my things like that. If this is the price they ask for an education, then I have no need for the services of New Haven’s school district. Those were not just pretty words in my paper; I will follow-through on them.

So tomorrow, I shall see what happens. I don’t believe they have any grounds at all to continue the program or send me home upon until Monday. And I may not even be asked tomorrow.

And I already question the constitutionality of whatever new ‘policy’ they are writing. School of Americas Watch v. Columbus, GA pokes a pretty nice hole in any possible policy they can cook up. But it shall be interesting to see.

I am going to seek information on…alternatives to the school system tomorrow.

So at 10 and 11 the story ran. Arlene DePino called after the first airing in response the the phone messages she had from us. She will be contacting me again tomorrow regarding me speaking in front of a board of something or other. We’ll see…