Kenneth Chutchian

On the fourth anniversary of the Jan. 6, 2021 attack on the U.S. Capitol, I will do something mundane as a reminder that kids are watching and listening while we fight about what is right and wrong.

I will revisit my collection of 23 index cards, bound by a paper clip since November 2016, carrying messages from 23 students in my Comparative Government and Economics high school class.

Those kids are now in their mid-twenties. My precious index cards are the product of a Hail Mary lesson plan slapped together while sitting in my car after 11 p.m. on Election Day 2016.

I hadn’t tracked the Electoral College vote that night because I was working the election at Coffin School in Brunswick, delivering vote totals for local, state and federal elections to the Associated Press and Portland Press Herald. It was four hours of pressure and hyper-focus to get the numbers as they came in from Brunswick’s election workers, elbowing around people without being a jerk, calling the newsroom, and getting it all right, no excuses. No time to inquire or listen to news from outside of our building.

When finished, I began to drive home, then took a detour when I heard the news. Instead of taking a right on Harpswell Neck Road, I pulled into an unpaved parking area, surrounded by woods, with no street lights. I had two thoughts.

“This is who we are.”

“I have no idea what to say to my students at 7:30 tomorrow morning.”

I could have ignored what I knew, that workplaces everywhere would be filled with awkwardness and fear of conversation that didn’t mean anything. No. I could have lectured on democracy and turbulent elections in our nation’s past. I could have talked about the importance of accepting results, win or lose.

No, no, no. I’m working with young people who are watching us all the time. Our faces, our tones, demeanor, comportment, everything.

“Clear everything off your desks except a pen or pencil, and your index card,” I said. “Answer one or both of my questions, in 30 words or less. No names. Repeat, no names. I’m going to read the responses to you.”

Question#1:  What’s on your mind right now?

Here’s what they wrote:

I wish we had come up with better candidates at the start. Disappointment. People NEED to stay as active/involved in politics as during the election. Use your voice.

School. The election. Trump. We have Obama for another month and a half.

My future.

How will we come together as a nation? What will be the socio-political and economic fallout in the months to come?

Mike is going to prison in two days. I get Starbucks later. My eye hurts. Cows. Mike wanted Trump.

A lot of people are upset but I think that was going to be the case either way. I’m just glad Trump won because I’d rather see him in office than Hillary.

It can go two ways, up, really, or down really fast. You really do not know.

I think it’s stupid that minimum wage is going to be $12 and people are going to think it’s going to be a raise but it’s not because everything else will go up, everything.

I did not expect Trump to win.

Our country is done for.

School, shock, surprise.

Election. Food. Having tomorrow off.

How are things going to change for the better? For the worse? Riots? Are we going to have more terrorist attacks?

How everyone is losing friends because of who they like or their opinions on all this political stuff. People are not respecting their views and are hating on everyone.

How long will it be before we go to war.

I’m terrified.

Food and why (my friend) isn’t sitting next to me. And why Jackie Bradley Jr. didn’t win a Gold Glove.

Sobs and heartbreak.

I am really stressed out about this country.

How unsafe I’m going to be and feel. And how unsafe my girlfriend and I are going to be as lesbians.

A lot. I was sad earlier but somehow not sad enough to put a damper on my infallible faith in the good of human beings. I know that human beings will always positively contribute to society and that will always outweigh any negativity or inhumanity in the world. I still have hope.

I wonder if America is prepared to live with its decision.

“Are we good?” I said after reading the responses to the class. “OK. Let’s get to work.”

Kenneth Z. Chutchian of Harpswell is a retired teacher, former journalist and author of “John Reed: Radical Journalist” (McFarland Books, 2019).