The Ribbon Campaign

twelve || of caring and finality

Kara Deline texts me the times and information on when I'm going to be speaking at the schools. On Wednesday I'm visiting two schools, Thursday three and Friday two again. I almost pass out when she sends me another text after that letting me know that she'll tell me the schedule for next week after Friday.

Even though he's still feeling the hangover, Bryce comes over again later that night to work on writing the speeches with me. After all, they can't be like any other ones, I'm not talking to the school board- I'm talking to students, people I have to make sure don't fall asleep at my words. Which Bryce and I conclude is pretty damn hard after thirty minutes of just sitting at the dinner table and not being able to come up with anything.

"Let's try to think of us in the student's places," Bryce suggests, eyes still rimmed red and composure still sagged from this morning, but there's a concentrated fire obvious within him. "The speech you gave to the school board was a little more professional and had a different approach then what we're going for now. We're trying to make these people care."

"How're we supposed to make teenagers care?" I scoff. "People only really seem to care when someone's dead."

Bryce bites his bottom lip, looking deep in thought. "You may be onto something."

My eyebrows shoot up. "We're not killing anyone Bryce."

"No, no. You're right- people seem to care when someone's dead. It makes them feel bad and shameful in a sense. Think about those commercials with those super sad dogs trying to get you to donate. Think about why they work- they pull on people's heart strings until they manage to pull out exactly what they need. Pity. People care more about those who they pity."

"Okay," I say slowly, watching the way Bryce's green eyes light up. I really can't stop staring at them- they're a really nice color. Shaking my head, I divert my attention to what's important. "You want to incorporate pity? How are we going to do that?"

"When I first heard about the whole ribbon thing, I was intrigued," Bryce admits. "But when we began to write the speech together and you told me about how Caiden got kicked out of his home for being gay, it made me pity him. I began to care a lot more. We need to tell people your story, to show them that this type of treatment is still present in the world. It's the only way to not only make them care, but also to show them why this is important."

"I did that with my last speech, though- I told my story."

"You shortened your story. You summarized your story, if anything. People want to be touched, they want to feel goose bumps riding up their skin. In a world so busy and chaotic, we need to tell people something that will stick with them. You need to spill your heart out in this story. Don't make the story forty-five minutes long, but make it something that'll leave them thinking. And then jump into the idea of wearing a ribbon around your wrist."

So we write about my story. I talk about the way I couldn't wrap my head around the idea of Caiden's parents kicking him out. I talk about feeling useless and unable to create a change. I talk about how good it feels every time I see someone wearing a ribbon. I even add the part about Mr. Harrison offering Caiden therapy. Luca even comes up, demonstrating that not everyone who doesn't support homosexuality are bad people because not supporting isn't the same as deeming someone lesser of a person than another for their sexuality.

The speech is a long one, but Kara Deline had told me I had around forty minutes to talk in front of the schools, so I needed to use it. When we're done, we call Caiden down to ask him if he's okay with us telling the schools his story. He almost tears up reading the speech and hugs both of us tightly.

"Why is Caiden about to cry?" Ryan asks when he enters the kitchen. Caiden pulls away with a chuckle while Bryce and I full on laugh. "Which one of you made him cry?"