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saw Bobbi McCall, and we walked toward her. She was on her cell phone.
    â€œZander, Mrs. Maxwell wants the Cruisers in her office right away,” Bobbi said. She was wearing feathers in her hair that went all the way around her head. It looked good.
    â€œWhat did we do now?” Kambui asked.
    I couldn’t think of anything the Cruisers had done or even had published in our paper. But Mrs. Maxwell was cool and everybody knew that, so I wasn’t sweating it.
    The people carrying signs were also chanting something, but I couldn’t understand what they were saying and it didn’t seem like a really big deal to me because somebody in Harlem was always protesting something.
    Me, Kambui, and Bobbi went in the front door of Da Vinci and Mrs. Brown, who works in Mrs. Maxwell’s office, motioned to us to come up the steps. On the way up Bobbi said she thought it was about our agreeing in The Cruiser to referee a food fight. Actually, we were just kidding, but maybe Mrs. Maxwell had taken it seriously.
    â€œI think it’s about the protest,” Mrs. Brown said.
    We got to the principal’s office and it was already crowded. There was a woman with a voice recorder who I figured was a reporter. LaShonda, looking tired, was already there. She kind of half smiled at us and shrugged. She didn’t know anything, either.
    â€œHow you doing?” I asked LaShonda.
    â€œHanging in there,” she said. “I don’t think this has anything to do with us.”
    Mrs. Brown motioned the Cruisers and the reporter lady into the principal’s office and we filed in. Mrs. Maxwell was standing behind her desk. Mr. Culpepper was standing in front of the American flag next to one of the school’s security guards, and on the other side was a dude dressed in an African robe and another guy I recognized. I had seen Charles Lord on television and in the Amsterdam News a lot of times. He was one of those dudes who was always against whatever was going on and always making statements to the papers.
    â€œMrs. Maxwell, I’m going to say again that I do not approve of these children being here,” Mr. Lord said. “This is a matter for adults to decide.”
    â€œIt’s their future you’re challenging, Mr. Lord.” Mrs. Maxwell’s voice was a little strained and I figured she was upset. “You cannot be against elite schools without being against elite pupils such as these young people. So you have to make your case to them!”
    â€œAre these students among the school’s best?” the reporter asked.
    â€œThese students are just young people who work very hard to do well in the educational system,” Mrs. Maxwell said. “And who, apparently , Mr. Lord is against.”
    â€œMy case is very simple.” Mr. Lord turned toward where the Cruisers stood on one side of the room. “I don’t think that there should be elite schools such as this one in the city of New York. I think that all students should have the opportunities that you have here. And that’s regardless of race, color, religion, or economic status. I hope you young people can agree with me and the Harlem community in this matter.”
    â€œMy grandmother saw you on television,” Kambui said. “She said people like you don’t build anything, you just tear stuff down.”
    â€œYour grandmother is correct, young man,” Mr. Lord said. “It’s up to the city to build a competent educational system for all the children in New York. It’s up to people like me to tear down their excuses, one of which is the city’s elite schools, for not building a complete educational system for all the students in the city.”
    That was a good answer and it was really fast.
    â€œYou’re quick and slick,” I said. “But being strong doesn’t mean you’re not wrong. Da Vinci is the bomb because everybody here works hard. If the really good