Agreeing that we can disagree

Sue Clark

Pepsi tastes better than Coke.

I walked rapidly over to the side of the room labeled “disagree.”

I looked over at the large group of students and teachers standing by

the “agree” sign. What was wrong with them? They must not have very

good taste. Coke had much more sparkle, more of a tang. Wow. Some of

my favorite students -- ones whom I had assumed to have good taste --

were on the other side of the room.

Members of the school leadership class gently pushed two

spokespeople from each side into the center. Their job was to defend

their views on the two soft drinks. No one was allowed to comment or

argue with them. Our task was to listen. If we changed our mind

because of what someone said, we were to move to the other side of

the room silently. No one did.

Coke was easy, compared to the next statement that Tasha read to

the group:

“If you are a person of color, you have a harder chance getting

ahead in this country,” she said. Again, an easy one for me. I walked

unhesitatingly to the “agree” side. The divide was once again half

and half. Students and faculty on both sides were eyeing each other

cautiously. I noticed some kids of color on the “disagree” side

looking adamant.

The spokespersons came into the middle, both introverts and both

somewhat reluctantly. As each side spoke, a few in the audience began

to cautiously walk to the other side. We couldn’t speak. Our movement

was our truth.

One student on the “disagree” side was so eloquent, I almost

moved. But not quite.

Students should be allowed to dress however they want at school.

I remained at the “agree” side. I was extremely sick of being the

counselor delegated to talk to the girls whose clothing was deemed

“inappropriate.” It made me feel like a dirty old lady, and

invariably offended the student. I scanned the other side. There were

several teachers but only a few students standing by the “disagree”

sign.

A quiet boy came to the middle and looked like he didn’t want to

talk. “Come on,” our group encouraged him. He thought for a minute

and then began to speak.

“Students should be allowed to dress however they want, if it

doesn’t bother anyone else. We are here to learn, not to get

disciplined for dressing in a different or alternative way. In fact,

why not let us wear costumes?”

He was almost drowned out by cheers.

“No talking or answering back,” warned Brittany.

Suddenly some students from the other side strode over to my side.

Our speaker realized, stunned, he’d convinced them to change their

minds. He grinned.

The statements got tougher.

It’s OK to call someone retarded if you are friends with them. The

level of debate became more impassioned.

People on welfare are lazy. Again, each group eyed each other

warily. And again, some walked to the other side after hearing

eloquent defenses.

Later we debriefed. The leadership students asked how we felt

doing this exercise, which they’d brought back from the Dana Point

High School Leadership Conference of Continuation High Schools.

One teacher said, “I felt if I took the unpopular side, you would

think I wasn’t cool.”

I added, “It was interesting to see that some students I had

thought couldn’t be any more different than each other, actually

shared some opinions. Kids I could have sworn would feel one way felt

the opposite.”

A quiet girl remarked, “I could have my say, and no one could

interrupt.”

Morgan, a senior, said, “This had real meaning. Why can’t we do

this all the time? I want a debate class next quarter.”

(He is currently getting support for this idea.)

“We had to go through so much bureaucracy to get this as a school

wide assembly,” Brittany said. “I never realized how many rules there

are and how hard you have to work to convince people.”

Carlos said, “these are serious issues, and we wanted every

student to attend in small groups, and have the teachers interact, as

well. “

As for me, I was shocked that so many people didn’t agree that my

opinions were the best. And it was powerful to see students were

giving their own opinion, as well as mine, the utmost respect.

I only wish the local and national leaders would participate, and

agree to disagree. A respectful exchange would be refreshing. And I

can just picture Tasha brandishing the microphone saying, “Be quiet!

You have to listen right now!”

* SUE CLARK is a Newport Beach resident and a counselor at the

continuation school, Creekside High School in Irvine.