Next Day. 10 a.m.
Los Angeles, USA.
First Congregational Church
REV. LAURA VAIL FREGIN
The church is filled with the soft murmur of the congregation as I prepare to begin the service. The precentor approaches the altar, his steps deliberate and reverent, his voice calm as he offers the opening prayer. The room falls into a hush, heads bowed, hands clasped, as his words echo through the space.
After the prayer, he returns to his seat, and a lone chorister steps forward. He stands at the front of the altar, microphone in hand, eyes closed as he begins to sing. His voice is rich and warm, filling the sanctuary with a hymn of gratitude.
"I will enter His gates with thanksgiving in my heart,
I will enter His courts with praise.
I will say this is the day that the Lord has made,
I will rejoice for He has made me glad."
The choir joins in, harmonizing, their voices blending together in a unified chorus of worship.
"He has made me glad, He has made me glad,
I will rejoice for He has made me glad.
He has made me glad, He has made me glad,
I will rejoice for He has made me glad."
The song continues, the congregation slowly joining in, the sound swelling as it fills every corner of the church. The air is thick with reverence and the collective spirit of those gathered.
Central City Value High School
JOHN BROWN
The classroom is silent except for the scratch of marker on the whiteboard. Mr. Kingsley finishes writing the topic, capping the red marker with a soft click. His presence is commanding, his appearance sharp—white shirt, black suit, red and black tie, black trousers, polished shoes, and a gold wristwatch that glints in the fluorescent light.
"Alright, everyone," he says, his voice firm but not harsh. "I want you to stop writing and listen carefully."
Pens are put down, notebooks closed, and all eyes turn towards him. Mr. Kingsley's eyes, a striking shade of mariner-blue, scan the room. There's a sharpness in his gaze, softened by a youthful energy that makes him both respected and approachable.
He smiles slightly. "Good. Now, who remembers the assignment I gave you last week? Anyone ready to explain what they've read?"
I raise my hand confidently, noticing a few other students doing the same. I glance to my left and see my best friend, Kevin, sitting quietly, not volunteering.
"Psst, Kevin." I whisper, leaning closer. "Did you forget what we studied last week?"
Kevin looks at me, his expression sheepish. "Yeah... Honestly, I don't remember much."
"What? Are you serious?" My whisper carries a hint of disbelief.
Before Kevin can respond, Mr. Kingsley calls on him. "Kevin, why don't you remind the class what we covered last week?"
Kevin straightens up, caught off guard. "Uh, me, sir?"
"Yes, you, Kevin. Go on, tell us what you remember."
Kevin stands slowly, glancing at me for reassurance. He begins to speak, trying to recall the lesson with as much confidence as he can muster. But halfway through, Mr. Kingsley interrupts.
"Kevin, remember—don't say 'try.' Just explain. You've got this."
Kevin nods, finishing his explanation with more certainty. When he finally sits down, I lean over and whispers again.
"That wasn't so bad, but seriously, you had me worried."
Kevin grins. "I was just messing with you. Relax, bro."
Mr. Kingsley clears his throat, drawing their attention back to the front. "Alright, everyone. Today's topic is crucial. We'll be discussing the ideas of race in the late 19th and 20th centuries, which underpinned various societal discourses, including capitalism, which we touched on last time."
As he speaks, Mr. Kingsley moves around the room, his voice carrying the weight of history. "Race and racism were, and still are, key tools of social classification. These concepts were heavily influenced by eugenics and social Darwinism, which justified white supremacy, both historically and in the present."
He pauses by a student named Juliet, who's engrossed in her textbook. "Juliet," he says, his tone gentle but firm, "what textbook are you reading?"
Juliet looks up, startled. "It's a history textbook, sir."
"Are you aware that I don't permit the use of textbooks during my lectures?"
"No, sir. I wasn't aware."
"Now you know. Please close the book and pay attention."
"Yes, sir," Juliet says, closing the textbook and offering a quick apology.
Mr. Kingsley continues his lecture, his voice resonating with passion as he delves into the complexities of race and its impact on society. The students listen intently, absorbing the gravity of the lesson, the room charged with the weight of knowledge and the understanding that history is not just something to be learned, but something that shapes the world they live in.
Mr. Kingsley, a man in his late thirties with a stern but approachable demeanor, walks to the front of the class, gathering his thoughts before continuing his lecture. His voice, steady and clear, cuts through the air as he resumes his explanation.
"The danger with eugenics and social Darwinist theories, particularly in the 19th and 20th centuries," he says, pausing to scan the room, "is that they were accepted without proper scrutiny. These ideas weren't just academic exercises; they were central to European colonialism, justifying the dispossession and genocide of indigenous peoples based on race. These theories varied in their application across different societies. For instance, in Australia, eugenics policies were used to 'breed out blackness' among the indigenous population. In contrast, Germany's racial laws sought to create a 'master race' through the application of eugenics. This article," he gestures towards a thick textbook on his desk, "explores how these ideas defined nations and excluded certain people from society."
He pauses again, allowing the weight of his words to sink in. Some students shift uncomfortably in their seats, while others lean forward, fully engrossed. The teacher continues, "Disciplines like science and anthropology played significant roles in crystallizing racism during that time. Carolus Linnaeus, a Swedish naturalist in the 1730s, classified humans into four groups: European, Asiatic, American, and African. He believed in the fundamental similarities between these groups. However, Johann Blumenbach, a German naturalist who came sixty-five years later, ranked humans into five races and claimed Caucasians were the most advanced. His work laid the groundwork for the hierarchical view of races that followed."
As Mr. Kingsley delves into the historical figures, from Petrus Camper to Charles Darwin, the classroom becomes a theater of past ideologies, each name evoking a sense of the gravity of their contributions—and the consequences. He stops mid-sentence, checks his wristwatch, and sighs, "Unfortunately, we're out of time. I'll need to give you an assignment instead. Those of you with the history textbook, raise your hands."
Kevin, i, and a few other students lift our hands. The teacher nods, "Alright, those without textbooks should borrow them and copy the assignment on page 15."
The bell rings, signaling the end of the period. There's a collective shuffle as notebooks, pens, and textbooks are packed away. As the class empties, a male student approaches me. "Hey, the teacher wants to see you."
I glance at Kevin, then we both head back into the now-empty classroom. The teacher, engrossed in something on his tablet, barely notices them. I clear my throat, "Sir, we're here. Everything okay?"
Mr. Kingsley, still focused on his tablet, doesn't respond immediately. Kevin, a bit more impatient, taps on the desk, "Hello? We're right in front of you, sir."
The teacher finally looks up, a sheepish grin on his face. "Oh, I'm sorry, boys. I just applied for a competency test online. Exciting stuff—could mean a promotion!"
Kevin grins back, "That's great, sir!"
The teacher nods, "Thank you. Now, take a seat." He gestures to two chairs. John grabs them and hands one to Kevin before they both sit down.
"Okay, the reason I called you back is to ask if you're interested in joining the school's quiz team. I need seven smart students to represent us, and I've got five so far."
Kevin leans forward, "How many students do you still need?"
"Just two more," the teacher replies, "and I was hoping you'd be one of them."
I hesitate, "Umm..."
The teacher raises an eyebrow, "What's with the 'umm'? It's either yes or no, John."
I exchange a glance with Kevin before nodding, "Yes. Because Kevin's already on the team."
The teacher sighs, leaning back in his chair. "John, you need to do things for yourself, not just because your friend is doing them. If you're joining the team, do it because you want to, not because of Kevin."
I consider this, then says, "Alright, sir. I'm in."
"Good," the teacher says, smiling slightly. "But remember, I expect you to take this seriously. No half measures."
"Got it," Kevin and I respond in unison before standing up to leave.
As we walk out, the teacher calls after us, "And don't forget about the assignment!"
Outside, the schoolyard is buzzing with activity. Kevin turns to me, "So, lunch before heading to Hollywood Bowl?"
I shake my head, "Not sure if we're performing there today."
Kevin stops, confused. "Why not?"
I shrug, "Football. My team's playing in fifteen minutes. I should join them."
Kevin laughs, "You're kidding, right?"
I grin, "Nope. Without me, they're toast. The coach will be furious."
Kevin claps a hand on his shoulder, "You're full of it. Come on, let's eat."
We join the lunch line, still bantering back and forth. After grabbing our meals, we find a spot to sit when Juliet, Kevin's girlfriend, joins them.
"Hey, babe," she says, sliding into a seat next to Kevin. "You ready for the game?"
Kevin nods, "Yeah, but I'm not playing today."
Juliet looks surprised, "Why not?"
Kevin glances at John and smirks, "I've got somewhere more important to be."
Juliet raises an eyebrow, "Hollywood Bowl?"
Kevin grins, "You know it. Nothing beats performing on stage with John."
Juliet shakes her head, "You're something else. But seriously, why the big deal about performing live?"
Kevin leans back, his expression serious now. "Because it's not just about making music, Juliet. It's about the connection, the energy from the crowd, the thrill of being up there with your best friend."
Juliet sighs, clearly not convinced. "I get that, but it seems like you're choosing music over everything else, even your team."
Kevin looks at her, his tone softening. "Music's always been my passion, and it's something John and I share. But that doesn't mean I'm abandoning my team. It's just… today, the stage is calling me."
Juliet frowns, "And what about me? Am I supposed to just stand by while you chase this dream?"
Kevin reaches across the table, taking her hand. "You're part of my dream too, Juliet. But right now, this is something I need to do."
Juliet pulls her hand away, frustration clear in her eyes. "You always say that. Just don't forget who's been here for you when the music stops."
Kevin watches her walk away, then turns back to me with a sigh. "She'll come around."
I nod, though my expression is thoughtful. "I hope so, Kevin. For both your sakes."
We finish our lunch in silence, the weight of the conversation lingering in the air. As we head out towards the parking lot, a student calls after Kevin, reminding him about the football game.
Kevin just shakes his head, "Not today. I've got a different stage to conquer."
With that, we climb into my white Lexus 570, and with a shared glance of determination, we speed off towards the Hollywood Bowl, ready to take on whatever comes next.