Night March



Last night, Devo and I went to the capital and met up with around 400 people to protest the civil war in Uganda, and the kidnapping of children to serve in the rebel army. I learned about the civil war and the march on Oprah, but she failed to mention that only teenagers were invited, so other than the few adult chaperones and parents, we were the only people there over 18.

We talked to no one, and tried our hardest not to be offended by all the incessant chattering and giggling. Quite a few stayed up all night, so that every time I turned over to try and get comfortable, which was frequently, I could hear them and I scowled. Lucky for them, my grimacing face was hidden inside my sleeping bag.

At one point, the group next to us, apparently from St. Francis although I don't know why they didn't just go to San Jose, were making fun of some girl at their school who is a midget but went to the prom with a "real" boy, and by that I assumed they meant of normal stature. Apparently, it is hysterical to contemplate dancing and who knows what else between a "real" boy and a ...fake? girl. Ha ha ha....ha. I actually didn't laugh. I tried to kill them with lazer beams from my eyes. I thought really hard about rolling over and saying something snotty, but I contained myself, for the sake of bringing peace to Uganda.

So to all my ex-students, don't be lemmings. I hate lemmings. Teenage lemmings give teenagers a bad name. Do good things because you believe in them and take them seriously. And maybe only go to protests where most people are adults, because they usually don't fall asleep giggling about midgets. Grr.