February 21
by Janine Stephenson
A reporter came in today. We thought it was just a regular person. I never met a reporter before, so I didn't know what to expect. Craig usually refers newspapers to Manchester, so people like the Grease Pit can deal with them. Craig was picking up supplies, so I had to talk to the reporter. At first, I didn't think it was a good idea to say anything. So I handed the reporter a cup of coffee and asked him if he wanted to read some of our white papers. He said he already read them and could he ask me a question or two. I tried to tell him that I'm really not the best person to answer questions. I'm just 18 and it would be much better to speak with other people. But he said I was exactly the person he wanted to speak with.
I excused myself and went to ask Mrs. Stoutmiller if it was alright to speak with the reporter. She thought for a moment and then told me that if I was very careful about my words, I could speak with him. In fact, I should speak with him.
I got very scared after that. Because if I say something bad, then it would make all of us look bad. It's not even a matter of whether The Senator would look bad. He might, but it was more about how people my age would look. People think we're irresponsible or spoiled because we don't want to fight in the war and that's not the case. We work very hard and we care about society. We care about our country. If I said something that confirmed what people thought, then it would doom us.
So I walked back over to him and asked him if he wanted a glass of water. Not that I had a glass, but I certainly could give him with a Styrofoam cup. He laughed and said no, that he was fine. He took a notepad and pencil out of his bag and asked me a bunch of questions, which, of course, started with my name and age.
I explained how I came here from Madison, Wisconsin with Becca. I told him about the Dow Chemical protest in Madison and how our parents didn't think it was safe for us to go back to school. I told him about the Greyhound Bus ride and how long it was. I told him about some of the boys that we knew who were in the military. He asked me if there were more volunteers because of the draft deferments. I said that I thought there was. Then he asked me about the mood of the volunteers and staff. I said that I couldn't speak for anybody else, but we all feel very good. We're not just sitting back and allowing people to make decisions for us. I'm very proud to be a McCarthy volunteer and I don't think I have anything to be ashamed about.
He asked if the friend that I came with could speak with him. Becca was licking stamps for the mass mailing and was very happy to be relieved of her job. Like me, she wasn't sure if she wanted to talk to the reporter, but I told her I'd sit with her. And I warned her to pick her words very carefully. I sat next to her and each time the reporter asked her a question, she'd think about it for a moment or two and then answer. I was proud of her because even though Becca can be a loudmouth sometimes, she is actually very shy. I think the best thing she said was how we weren't doing anything special. That there are lots and lots of people just like us who are working to make this place better for everybody.
