#davey jacobs might have the right to remain silent but we all know he ain’t got the ability

[corpusdiem-seizethedead]

People deadass forget how fucking sassy he is, AND the fact that Davey Jacobs does not give a single flying fuck.

david isn't a "cinnamon roll" nor is he a "mom friend" david jacobs is an autistic awkward teenager that never really had friends and comes off as kinda mean and he has no idea how to be normal. and that's exactly why all the newsboys guys liked him so much from the beginning

[butmemostly]

Girlsies Week Day 2: Modern Era | @girlsiesweek

The Newsies in high school participate in the National Student Walkout despite their principal’s wishes. 

reblog & support me on ao3 if you enjoy!

• • •

The number of students that showed up to the walkout meeting was incredible. Miss Larkin, though technically not allowed to help them, allowed a band of students to use her classroom if they wanted to organize a student walkout. In all honesty, Katherine only expected it to be her and her close friends but was shocked when she entered the room to see nearly every seat filled. Kids from every grade level sat in the room, chatting amongst themselves. Katherine went and sat next to Sarah.

“Thanks for saving me a seat,” Katherine said, smiling. She dumped her bag on the floor and sat down.

“No problem,” Sarah replied. “How’s your speech going?” Katherine inhaled through her teeth, and Sarah laughed. “Not good?”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Katherine waved her off, “I’m just nervous.”

“Don’t be, you’ll be fine,” Sarah said.

Before Katherine could reply, Miss Larkin stood up and got everyone’s attention.

“Hello, children! My, what a lovely bunch we have here!” She grinned from ear to ear and scanned the room. “I see we’ve got Jack with us, and Davey, and Hannah, and – oh, and is that Romeo back there?” She laughed jovially. “And I see plenty of new faces, as well!” Her eyes swept over the room, taking in all the familiar and unfamiliar students she hosted. “Well, regardless of whether you know me or not, you all know Mr. Pulitzer’s stance on this event, don’t you?”

Many students nodded, some solemn, some angry. A couple of the rowdier kids shouted out insults.

“Well, this little meeting is between us, alright?” She said. She stared at them all, making sure they got the point stuck in their head. “This is a student-led organization – I’m not involved what-so-ev-er, I’m just letting you use my room. Got it?”

“Yes, Miss Larkin!”

“Alright. Why don’t we start by throwing around ideas?”

The kids in the room all began to share their vision for the walkout. Miss Larkin let Hannah use her desktop to list out the ideas on a document, which was then shared with all the other kids. Ideas were thrown left and right, and It was clear in their eyes that they were passionate, that they were willing to face any punishment they were threatened with.

At some point, they got on the topic of guest speakers. Miss Larkin asked if anyone was interested in speaking, and Katherine slowly raised her hand.

“Ah, Miss Katherine!” Miss Larkin clapped her hands together. “You would like to speak?”

“Yes ma’am,” Katherine replied. “I have a rough draft, actually, would you like me to read it?”

“Of course!” She said. She gestured in a go right ahead motion, and Katherine opened up her notebook to her speech. Katherine took a deep breath, then began to read. The room was quiet, listening to her words forged out of anger and impatience. The speech was short, only a few paragraphs, and she finished before she knew it. The classroom applauded, some giving various shouts of approval.

Katherine smiled, very modest, and thanked the room. Sarah gave her a bump on the shoulder that translated to good job! As the others gave suggestions for her speech, she wrote them down in her notebook and bounced back ideas off of the suggestions. It worked rather well, and by the time they were done, Katherine had a plethora of things to add to her draft.

The next meeting was exactly a week later. Katherine, Sarah, and Hannah met up as soon as they were dismissed and walked to the drama room together. There weren’t as many kids this time – all the less passionate ones had been weeded out. Now they were left with mostly the theatre kids, SGA kids, chorus kids, yearbook kids, and some others; all fired up and ready to take on the world.

Once the meeting started, the students began to narrow down all their ideas, and focus on which they wanted to do and how it was going to be done. Ideas were still all over the place, but they were getting there.

Katherine began to take charge. She stood up and read a revised version of her speech, and listened to any remaining suggestions her peers had to offer. Then, as they continued along, she gave suggestions on what to change and how to organize things. She started a big group chat with all of them in it, and then they could plan even when they weren’t in a meeting.

Everyone spread the word on social media: Walkout on March 14th, 10:00 am at the front gate. They told their friends and posted it on Snapchat, Instagram, and Twitter. If they wanted to prove to Mr. Pulitzer that they mean business, they needed as many kids on board as possible.

The next meeting was on the Friday before the walkout. The meeting began as usual, and the group started to form a schedule for the walkout. Sarah stood at the whiteboard, listing off the events: introduction, 3 minutes; honoring the victims followed by a moment of silence, 3 minutes; Katherine’s speech, 5 minutes; chanting, 6 minutes. Jack, a theatre techie, planned on getting a mic and speaker to hook up beforehand – and, as the Junior Class President, was willing to present the introductory speech at the start of the walkout (written by Davey, the Junior Class VP, of course). Katherine told all her friends in yearbook to be there with their cameras, and Sarah helped Katherine finish her speech. They were getting everything figured out and ready for Wednesday.

Suddenly, the door swung open.

The kids didn’t bother at first, assuming it was just Miss Larkin coming back from the restroom, but then a deep voice boomed across the room.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?”

Everyone froze. There in the doorway stood the principal, Mr. Pulitzer.

He stepped slowly into the room, taking a good look at each student. Everyone stood silently, brewing in their anger, hatred, and fear – it radiated off their bodies like heat, changing the very atmosphere of the room. Mr. Pulitzer either didn’t notice it or didn’t care (probably the latter). He put one hand on his hip and leaned the other against a desk, with a very menacing smile plastered on his face.

After a horrible, horrible moment of silence, he finally spoke. “I told you all that events of these kinds will not be permitted at this school,” he said. His eyes swept over the room, looking at each student to make sure his point was clear. “Unless you children want to be suspended, I suggest you disband this at once.”

“How’d you find out?”

Everyone turned towards the voice – Sarah Jacobs. She stood tall, making fierce eye contact with the principal.

Mr. Pulitzer smiled as if he expected the question to arise (he did, of course). “You kids and your social media,” he said, shaking his head with a laugh. “You think that an old man like me doesn’t know how your brains work? Our deans have their eyes all over your profiles – your Snapchats, your Tweets, everything.”

Their eyes widened, and the silence continued. All their hearts beat collectively; a quick, pounding sound in their ears.

“You can’t stop us now,” Jack said, “Word’s already out.”

“Oh, no, I can’t stop you,” Mr. Pulitzer said, “But you can.”

The kids blinked at him questioningly. He cleared his throat and continued.

“You kids go back onto your Snapchats, and your Instagrams,” he said, “and tell all your friends that the walkout is off.”

"Yeah, and what if we don’t?”

“Then your colleges will see a three-day suspension for insubordination on your permanent record.”

No one said anything to this. Any remaining fear in the room had long since burned into hatred. Mr. Pulitzer seemed quite satisfied with the looks on their faces.

Jack took a step forward, full of rage. “You can’t just be quiet about this! Kids are dying in schools, a place where we come to learn! That just ain’t right! You’re trying to silence us for wanting the right to be safe?”

“I will not allow this school to become involved in this political scheme!” Pulitzer yelled. Everyone flinched. “We are tightening security, we are doing monthly searches, we are doing active shooter drills. I am doing what I can to make this school safer.”

“That ain’t enough!”

Mr. Pulitzer regained his composure, and his unsettling smile returned. “Ah, Mr. Jack Kelly. Suspended for fighting and encouraging delinquent behavior,” he began to pace around the room, and Jack had a terrible look on his face. The principal stopped again and faced the boy. “If you’re planning on adding this to your record as well, I might as well have you expelled!”

“They was bullies!” Jack yelled. He squeezed his eyes shut. “Them stupid brothers, beating up on… on–“ Jack shook the thought out of his head and looked back up at Mr. Pulitzer. “They was bullies,” he repeated, “and you ain’t no better.”

Everyone stood, shocked, quiet. Mr. Pulitzer’s casually wicked smile was gone, now replaced with disgust and malice. He looked up at the rest of the students.

“Tell all your friends that the walkout is canceled,” he said. “Otherwise, you will suffer the consequences.”

Silence. Not a breath, heartbeat, or pin-drop.

Sarah stepped forward.

“Alright,” she said. All heads turned towards her, mouths agape. “We’ll do it.”

“Sarah–“ Davey started.

“No,” she interrupted. She turned around and faced all of her classmates, back to Pulitzer. “We’re going to college soon, and we don’t want this to be the thing that denies us our chance of getting into our dream schools.” Sarah stared at each kid, eyes wide and screaming what words could not. Go with it, they said, trust me. “Right guys?”

One by one, the students reluctantly nodded. Eventually, Mr. Pulitzer seemed satisfied.

“Alright, children. Out we go,” he said, holding the door open. The kids sluggishly gathered their things and walked out the door. Mr. Pulitzer made sure they all made it out the front gate, then let them go. As soon as they were all out, Sarah motioned for them all to gather ‘round.

“We’re not actually canceling this, are we?” Hannah asked.

“No, no, of course not,” Sarah replied. “I got a plan… though I don’t have all of it.”

“Well, let’s hear it, and we’ll fill in the rest,” Katherine said with a smile. Sarah smiled back.

“Alright, well here’s what I’m thinking…”

• • •

On Monday evening, after all the teachers had headed home, the gang met up at a side entrance to the school. At 5:00 pm, a janitor opened the door for the kids, right on schedule. They made their way to the yearbook room.

“Is he okay with this?” One of the boys asked. “Ain’t he gonna get fired if they catch him?”

“He put in his two-weeks’ notice eleven days ago,” Katherine said with confidence. “I heard my dad talking about it just last Sunday. Trust me, it’s nothing.”

They got to the room, flicked the lights on, and turned on one of the computers. Katherine stuck her flash drive in, opened up a document, and turned on the printer. “I’ll get these going,” she said, “Jack, you go get supplies for the banner from drama and bring them back here. When you’re back, we’ll let you know the setup plan.”

“Got it,” Jack said. He tipped his hat then ran out the door.

Katherine pulled up a map of the school on the computer and motioned for the group to gather around. She grabbed her pencil from behind her ear. “Okay, you all heard Mr. Pulitzer’s announcement yesterday, right?”

“Yeah, he said he’d suspend anyone that went to the walkout!”

Katherine took her pencil and pointed at the front gate on the map. “This is where we had the walkout planned before. So, Pulitzer’s probably going to have that area on watch to catch anyone that shows up. With administration’s attention over there, we’ll have the walkout over here.” She tapped on a space between two of the buildings. “Pulitzer’s office is in building one, right here. So, we take our walkout to this courtyard, right outside his window.”

“Wait, why would we do that? Won’t he suspend us?”

“Not if there’s enough of us,” Katherine said. “Think about it – if we get the whole school involved in this, what’s he going to do about it? Suspend ninety percent of the student population? I don’t think so.”

“But how’re we gonna tell people to go there if they look at our social media?”

“Then we don’t use social media,” Sarah stepped in. “That’s why I wrote this,” she motioned to the document that Katherine pulled up. “Fellow Students,” she read, “Mr. Pulitzer has denied us our right to stay safe, to speak up for ourselves, unaffiliated with the employees of this school. Our lives are in danger due to the apathy and selfishness of adults. We joke that school feels like a jail now, but wait until we build larger gates, hire more police officers, and have mandatory backpack searches every other week. We are not addressing the problem, we are hiding from it. That is why we urge you to join us, on March 14th at 10:00 am at the courtyard, to stand up for yourself and for your safety. If enough of us come, we surely can change this school for the better.”

There was a stunned silence, then a burst of applause.

“Whoa, that was really good!”

“With this, and Jack’s banner, and Katherine’s speech, we will surely win!” Hannah said. Everyone cheered again.

Katherine cracked her knuckles. “Alright,” she said, determined, “let’s get started.”

She began to print hundreds of the fliers. As they printed, Katherine grabbed a stack of about 20 sheets at a time and handed them to one of the runners, who took the fliers and shoved them in lockers all down the halls and taped them onto the insides of bathroom stalls. Eventually, Jack came back to the yearbook room, lugging a bucket of paint supplies in one hand and a huge roll of paper over his shoulder. He set it down, rolled out a long banner across the floor, and got to work. Katherine monitored the printer’s paper and ink levels, while a few members of the gang kept watch just in case an administrator was still at school. The rest of the team used poster boards from the classroom and Jack’s paint supplies to create picket signs for the walkout. For an hour they danced through this routine until the last of the runners came back saying they finished. Katherine printed at least five more per person to hand out the next day, and everyone gathered their things to leave. A parade of kids helped carry Jack’s still-wet banner out the door, while everyone else got the signs. Outside the school, they bid each other good luck, and went their separate ways, ready for tomorrow.

• • •

The walkout hardly followed the plan they’d drafted on Friday: just before ten, a plethora of students walked out of their class. That morning, everyone opened their locker to find Sarah’s flier on their books. Students whispered about it all morning, and word got around. At 9:55 am, all the student organizers made posts on social media en masse – enough time to warn any oblivious students, and not enough time for the administration to see and get a grip. The students congregated in the courtyard, where Jack had set up the mic and speakers, and where Katherine, Sarah, Hannah, Jack, Davey, Race, Romeo, Crutchie, Jojo, Smalls, Sniper, Albert, Henry, Specs, and so many others held the banner together. They faced the building at Mr. Pulitzer’s office.

Mr. Pulitzer and the administrators, deans, and counselors were stationed near the front gate, waiting to see if any foolish students would even try. A minute or so passed, and they seemed proud of themselves – until they heard the loud voice of one Jack Kelly coming from somewhere inside the school.

They ran inside. A teacher came running down the hall towards them. “M-Mr. Pulitzer! The students!”

“What about them? Where are they?” He demanded.

“Look out your window!”

Mr. Pulitzer rushed into his office, to the window, and raised the blinds. Outside in the courtyard, nearly the entire population of the school faced him – in front, the students held a large banner that donned big crimson letters that read: We Will Find A Way.

Mr. Pulitzer’s attention then whipped to the gate surrounding the school – uninterested kids were using this event as a chance to hop the fence and leave school! He spun around in his office and faced the administration that gawked out the window behind him.

“Go catch those students!”

As a herd of deans ran out the office, Mr. Pulitzer looked back out the window.

At this point in their schedule, they were meant to have an introductory speech and list the names of the victims, but now, with their change of plans, the students stood, heads held high, and chanted. The minutes dragged on, and Mr. Pulitzer stared at the kids in disbelief, leaning heavily on the windowsill. The kids chanted, and chanted, and chanted.

After a while, Jack spoke into the microphone. “Okay, alright, looks like the old man’s getting tired of this. We don’t blame ya, Joe. That is why I’m handing the mic over to Katherine, here, to deliver a speech.” The sea of students clapped and cheered, and Katherine nervously took the microphone from Jack.

“Thank you, thank you,” she said. The cheers eventually quieted down, and Katherine looked between the crowd of students and her father in the window. She took a deep breath, unfolded her speech, and began to speak.

Still. That’s the best description of the air as Katherine spoke. Still. The students were quiet, the wind died down, and the only things that existed in that moment were Katherine’s words. She started off slow, and a bit quiet, but as she went on, her voice grew stronger and more confident. Passion, heart, anger, and hope lay behind her words. Her voice turned to spears, spears that struck the hearts and heads of the students that listened, that changed the very atmosphere of their school.

When she finished, the silence exploded into noise – cheers, claps, shouts, whistling; all sorts of noise exploded into the blank canvas of silence, engulfing Katherine in their ecstasy. She smiled, she smiled so wide, and spoke her thanks into the microphone. She looked over her shoulder, at her father in the window, and saw his expression – softer, thoughtful, almost… proud? Katherine grinned and turned back towards the students.

“Now, I would like to ask all of you for a moment of silence, to honor and remember the seventeen victims that died last month.” She said. The noise once again dialed down, and the canvas was wiped clean again.

Silence. Not a breath, heartbeat, or pin-drop.

Sadness, and fear. That was what everyone felt in that minute of silence. One day they were teenagers, trying to live the best years of their life, trying to get into school, trying to ignore the shitty world around them and enjoy themselves for as long as possible. Then, one day, the shitty world came to them, and they were forced to do something now. They were forced to stand up now. They were forced to open their eyes and accept the shitty world for how it is, and told not to do anything about it. Well, now they’re tired, tired of the shitty world being thrown in their face. It’s about time they do something about it.

The minute lasted a lifetime. Katherine’s voice into the microphone, thanking them for the time, was forced and unnatural. It was an awkward break to the silence that pulled them together.

But then, their voices began to rise. They once again chanted, demanding their voices to be heard because no one would listen to them otherwise. Together, their voices sang as one. Their hearts beat as one.

Mr. Pulitzer stood, one versus one.

Even as the clock ticked past 10:17, the students continued to stand. The teachers couldn’t do jack shit about it, and they didn’t try – they were shocked, dumbfounded, completely thrown off by the entire event. The students continued to chant, angry voices and signs demanded Pulitzer do something.

“Mr. Pulitzer, you have to do something!” One of the administrators said. Mr. Pulitzer slowly nodded, then motioned for the cluster of staff around him to back up. He opened the window and Katherine approached him.

“Katherine, dear, hand me the microphone, please.”

Katherine looked back at the students, then to her father, and hesitantly gave it to him. He cleared his throat, then spoke. He addressed the students; the hardworking, determined, stubborn students. He addressed their dedication, bravery, and possibly even stupidity to do what they did just now. But – he said – he had a change of mind. Seeing this, and hearing his daughter’s speech, he reconsidered the situation. He announced that he would not suspend all of them, for he had no means to do so, but they still had to make up their class time at some point since it was not a school-organized event. Overall, he was fair, but still remained the same old man that he was known to be.

“With Katherine’s words, I’ve changed my mind,” he said. He gave his daughter a small smile. “Not completely, but… enough.”

The students erupted into cheers. After the chaos died down, and the event adjourned, students were herded back to their classrooms. Even though they had to go back to class, and didn’t exactly do anything impactful or whatever, Katherine’s riveting speech still lingered in their minds. Her last words grabbed their hearts, touched their minds, and took them all by the hands and led them to the starting line.

We are the generation that inherits the future. What will you do to protect it?