Branded - Eric Walters [12]
“Actually, they have found that Wikipedia is fairly accurate, but you’re right,” said Mr. Roberts. “Just because something is on YouTube or Twitter or on a Facebook page doesn’t make it true.”
I thought he deliberately avoided looking at Julia when he said that.
“Is it just that brand of shoes?” Oswald asked. He held up a foot to reveal the familiar logo.
“Not just that shoe brand. They just focused on that name for that clip. They could have done any shoe on the market.”
I tucked my feet farther in under my desk.
“And it’s not just running shoes of course.
Most toys, electronics, household products, cleaning supplies and clothing are all potentially manufactured in sweatshops. It can be anything,” Mr. Roberts said.
“This is starting to smell like an assignment,” Oswald said.
“No assignment. Critical thinking should be a part of your lives. Doesn’t anybody just want to know?”
A few hands went up, including mine.
“When something interests you, it drives you to find more information. We are in the information age. Just remember, be a critical thinker. Don’t accept without proof. And on that note, I’m going to dismiss you.”
“But the period isn’t over,” Oswald said.
“Do you want to stay longer?” he asked.
“No, I’m good with leaving!” Oswald said as he jumped to his feet. Other people started gathering their books.
“Actually I have to leave a little early.
I have a meeting at the board office about the uniforms. And speaking of uniforms, Oswald, come here.”
Oswald went to the front.
“Didn’t anybody ever teach you how to tie a tie?”
“No, sir.”
“It looks more like a noose than a necktie,” Mr. Roberts said. He adjusted the tie so it looked better.
More than half of the class had already made for the door. I think they were afraid he might change his mind. That might not be the dumbest thing to do. I grabbed my things and—
“Ian,” Mr. Roberts called out, and I froze in the doorway—two feet shy of freedom.
“Can I have a moment of your time?” he asked.
I knew that wasn’t really a question.
I turned around and headed back into the class. I passed Julia, and she gave me a “What is this about?” look. I shrugged. How would I know what he wanted?
I stood beside his desk. He was shuffling papers and didn’t even look up at me. I got the feeling he was waiting until the room emptied completely before he talked. It got very quiet as the last people exited, leaving just me and him.
He looked up. “Are you planning to do some independent investigation into the things we’ve talked about today?”
“For sure,” I said.
“You really have impressed me with your interest in social justice.”
“There’s so much I didn’t know.”
“And so much you still don’t know,” he said.
“I didn’t mean I know everything…I just mean I’m trying to learn more.”
“We’re all trying to learn. I was thinking about creating a social justice club here at the school,” he said. “Would you be interested in taking a leadership role in that?”
“Yeah, of course.”
“We’ll try to make the student population aware of world issues. We’ll try to think globally and act locally,” he said.
I wasn’t sure what that meant, but I figured I’d learn that too.
“So, changing subjects, what do you think about the new uniforms?” Mr. Roberts asked.
I hadn’t seen that coming.
“I’m not asking for state secrets,” he said. He must have read something in my expression. “I just want to know your opinion.”
“They’re just uniforms,” I said. “No big deal.”
“From what I gather a lot of people think it is a big deal.”
“Some people make a big deal out of nothing,” I said.
“And some people make nothing out of a big deal,” he responded.
“What?”
“Sometimes things that really do matter aren’t seen as being important. The secret is to know what counts and what doesn’t,” Mr. Roberts explained. “Speaking of which, I better get to the board office.”
chapter eight
“Are you going to turn in soon?” my mother asked as she peeked in the door of my room.
“Soon. And you?”
“Possibly not so soon. I have a big day