Read The Fight for Free Online Page A

I don’t save them.”
    â€œMinutes are like the report of the meeting?”
    â€œYes, it’s the record of what happened at the meeting. Pretty boring usually.” Mom yawned. Then she looked at me. “You’ll let me know what you’re planning, right?”
    For some reason, it made me defensive. “I thought you wanted to do something!” I said.
    â€œI do,” she said thoughtfully. “But … I just want to know what you’re up to.”
    I huffed off to my room.
    When I found the website, I started looking in the agenda and minutes documents around the date of Mrs. Walton’s letter. Mom was right. It was super boring. Teacher retirements, student expulsions, lots of money stuff.
    Then I found it.
    â€œA proposed curriculum policy addressing sexual orientation.”
    Then stuff from the district attorney about nondiscrimination.
    Then Mrs. Walton’s name jumped out at me.
    â€œTeaching about sexual matters, including homosexuality, is best left to families and churches,” the minutes reported she said. Then someone from a group who “promotes the equality of gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgender people” spoke. She said the policy would make it impossible for teachers and staff to talk about anything having to do with gay and lesbian people without permission from the superintendent.
    What?! I thought. That is so weird. The minutes said they’d discuss the new policy at the next meeting.
    I waited impatiently for the PDF of the next meeting to download. I scrolled through all the junk in the beginning with the calendar and stuff.
    I read: “The new policy applies not only to the health curriculum but to all curriculum areas. The proposed policy is to create a safe working and learning environment for both staff and students in compliance with State and Federal laws. Its focus is respect and tolerance.”
    â€œMotion for the new policy…Seconded…”
    And that was it. Did that mean that they had said yes to the policy? And what did it say?
    I kept looking and in all the junk at the bottom (rental agreements and laundry contracts—who knew), I found the policy.
    I charged into my parents’ room with my laptop. They were both reading in bed.
    â€œStaff shall remain unbiased on matters regarding sexual orientation….” my mom read out loud. “What is this, Isabel?”
    â€œThe policy,” I said, pacing around the room. “The reason teachers and administrators won’t help kids like Dominic.”
    â€œAre you sure this is it? Did you see if it was approved?”
    I showed her the part about the motion and the seconded. “Is that what this means?” I asked. She nodded. “Yes, looks like it. Honey—” she reached out a hand to me. “I’m really tired. Can we talk about this more tomorrow? I’m not sure your take on this is right.” I frowned. “Give us kisses and go to bed.”
    Reluctantly I did.

A
    t breakfast my mom tried to convince me that “unbiased” was a good thing. I had printed out some of the pages to show Zoe. I read to Mom what the GLBT woman had said about the policy making teachers unable to talk about homosexuality at all. She shook her head.
    At lunch I found Zoe before going to sit with my friends.
    â€œHere,” I said sticking the pages out at her. “Read this and then maybe we can meet again soon?” She looked up, surprised. I hurried away, embarrassed for some reason.
    The next day at lunch Zoe came up to me at our lunch table. My friends all eyed her.
    â€œThanks,” Zoe said. “Thursday, OK? Meet in the parking lot.”
    â€œThat was that girl again,” said Jenny.
    I nodded. I could tell they thought I was being weird about it. I didn’t care.
    On Thursday the parking lot was a zoo right after school. How was I supposed to find anyone? Then someone threw an arm around my