On Friday afternoon, other activities were canceled in the school's small gymnasium. A wooden lectern decorated with the school emblem was set up, with hundreds of folding chairs neatly arranged in front of it and another row behind it.
Alex was sitting in the row of chairs to the side and behind him. To his left sat Hayden, and to his right sat a very intellectual-looking Black woman named Michelle, a representative from a Chicago equal rights organization. Her title was Juris Doctor, an incredibly impressive academic background.
Faculty and staff members took their seats one after another, including familiar faces such as Aunt Susie and Old Joe. The principal stood in front of the podium, silently watching everything.
Alex waved to Aunt Su Xi and Old joe, his other hand unconsciously clenching the speech manuscript in his pocket, feeling a bit thirsty.
"Take a deep breath, don't be too nervous, it's okay if you say something wrong." Michelle keenly noticed the change in Alex emotions.
"Thank you." Alex smiled at the other party. Michelle was a member of the Democratic Party, as was Underwood, who hadn't arrived yet. Both of them had been introduced by the principal, so the principal's political leanings were self-evident. According to regulations, public schools should remain politically neutral, and school funds, services, or resources should not be used to influence the election of government officials or partisan political activities. However, what he had done this time certainly couldn't be considered a political activity, although it was a good opportunity for politicians to gain exposure and curry favor with Black voters.
To be honest, Alex had never met Congressman Underwood in person. He peered around and looked, but apart from the black female assistant he had met before and some reporters, Congressman Underwood was still nowhere to be seen.
"ladies and gentlemen..."
The principal checked his watch; the appointed time had arrived. After he began speaking, the gymnasium fell silent. Once everyone was seated and focused on the podium, he continued his opening remarks, "Today is a glorious day for our school and for Alexander Slade..."
He gestured to Alex, who, sensing everyone's attention on him, quickly stood up and flashed the standard smile he had practiced for so long.
"In recognition of his musical achievements, the American Broadcasting Association has decided to admit him as a member. He is the member of the association from our school, and also the youngest member of the association at our school..." the principal continued.
Alex sat down.
"Our school has cultivated talents in various art disciplines for many years, including... This is inseparable from the professional hard work of all faculty and staff..."
"I would also like to express my gratitude to BMI for recognizing our students, and to... Dr. Michelle of the Equal Rights Association and Mr. Underwood, Illinois State Representative, for their selfless assistance. Racial discrimination is a persistent problem that profoundly affects every aspect of life in America..."
"Next, please welcome the BMI representative... to present Song with her membership certificate..."
After the principal finished speaking, he stepped back a few paces, giving up the podium.
A BMI representative of Indian descent stepped to the podium. "Ladies and gentlemen, on behalf of BMI… BMI has been at the forefront of the fight against racial discrimination for many years. During the most severe years of discrimination, we granted memberships to a series of African American artists, including… Today, I am honored to present this certificate to Alexander Slade…"
BMI is very experienced in handling these kinds of crises. They didn't send a white person, as that would make them a target of criticism, nor did they send a black person, as that would seem a bit deliberate. The dark-skinned Indian was a good choice.
Alex stepped forward and accepted the certificate from his third brother with both hands, and applause rang out from below the stage.
After the third brother stepped back, Hayden went on stage again and presented Alex with a transparent plastic trophy. "On behalf of... magazine (a small media outlet with good ties to SBK Records), I present the American March Best New Composer Award to Alexander Slade... in recognition of his excellent work,'Thrift Store,'" he said.
Alex accepted the trophy.
Hayden winked at him.
"Thank you, thank you." After receiving the items, Alex stood in front of the podium, placed the trophy and certificate on the table, and took out his speech manuscript from his pocket.
"Thank you BMI for recognizing me personally and... for the magazine's praise. Ladies and gentlemen, I was born and raised here. As a poor but ordinary boy from a single-parent family, I want to thank the whole society for..."
As he spoke, he gradually relaxed, reading from his prepared remarks while simultaneously observing the various details of the audience in front of him.
Daniel says that now is the best empirical environment to help him understand how American society works.
Daniel said that he wanted to be the one who "gives points," and right now, that's the result of his hard work.
He gave the principal a reason for experiencing 'racial discrimination' and a reason for an 'awards ceremony'. He gave points, and the principal used this reason as a de facto political campaign. The principal gave points to Congressman Underwood and Dr. Michelle, who in turn helped put pressure on BMI and were also the ones giving points.
Perhaps this is the essence of how society functions.
"First of all, I want to thank my music teacher..." Alex read, controlling his facial muscles to give his music teacher a grateful smile, "When I was full of doubts about music, it was your care and strictness that gave me back my confidence and allowed me to persevere on this thorny path. It was you who gave this poor child so many conveniences, allowing me to concentrate on composing in the school's instrument storage room without any distractions..."
As he read these words, he saw that everyone in the audience was looking at the music teacher. The admiration in their eyes and the curve of their smiles were all cut from the same mold. It was like a kind of 'rites and music' or 'rituals' that society had tacitly agreed upon. No matter what you felt inside, you had to conform to the mainstream behavior pattern in your outward appearance.
His music teacher had helped him, and he reciprocated with points. He wondered what she would do with those points in the future—perhaps for promotion, or something else entirely. Of course, those things were none of his concern.
"I also want to thank my math teacher…" Alex shifted his gaze to the elegant elderly woman in the audience, "Without your encouragement and help, perhaps I would have ended up like those children who gave up on themselves, spending my energy on idle play, getting involved with gangs, and using drugs… I remember after you gave me a perfect score, everyone called me A+. They used that as a nickname, and I was very proud, so I signed my work A+, Aplus…"
The old woman looked at herself, her eyes moist, her gaze full of love, nodding slightly. Perhaps she had already used her points for the self-satisfaction of teaching and nurturing students.
"I also have to thank you, Aunt Susie…" He turned his gaze to Aunt Susie.
Aunt Susie was completely unaware of these 'rituals' familiar to the teaching profession. She excitedly pointed to herself on the stage and boasted to those around her with her gifted rap, "This is my sister's son, I raised him from a baby..."
"And also, my boss, Joe, hi, BOSS…" He looked at old Joe.
Old Joe changed into a dark suit, looking very elegant. He stood up with a smile and bowed to the surroundings several times.
All of this was accompanied by rounds of applause of standard length and volume. These teachers may not have liked this time-consuming activity, but everyone's response was impeccable, even though this was a public high school in a poor Black neighborhood with the worst teaching quality.
"Next, I would also like to thank Dr. Michelle for her hard work on my behalf and on our African American community's efforts to combat racial discrimination..."
He imitated the principal, turning to look at Dr. Michel.
Dr. Michelle stood up to greet him, and Congressman Underwood had somehow taken a seat in the outermost chair. The reporters' flashes started going off.
"Finally, I must thank one person who has contributed to the community for many years..." Alex began reading the effusive praise provided by Underwood's campaign office, "Thank you, Councilor Underwood!" he concluded emotionally.
The applause from the audience began to increase significantly in both duration and volume.
Underwood stood up, smiling and waving repeatedly. He was of medium height, slightly overweight but muscular, with deep, determined eyes and a unique aura that blended aggression and approachability. Alex had never seen him before, but at a glance, he guessed his identity—in short, he was definitely an important figure.
Thank you everyone!
After all this was over, Alex left the podium to Michelle and Underwood, thinking to himself, "I guess I've contributed a tiny bit of points to them."
Michelle delivered a brilliant speech on racial discrimination, drawing on a wide range of sources, from Martin Luther King Jr. to Mandela, from the world to Chicago's South Side. Song Ya could only think of four words: impressive but incomprehensible.
Finally, there was a closing speech by Congressman Underwood, which was very lively, humorous, and down-to-earth, interspersed with some self-deprecating anecdotes.
This time, in addition to the gazes and applause, there was also timely laughter following each of Underwood's little jokes—just as perfectly timed, very standard.
Finally, Underwood announced a government-funded program to support schools.
This time, thunderous applause erupted, and the teachers stood up, clapping their hands, their smiles becoming even more genuine.
It seems that Underwood gained a lot of points from this media exposure and Black votes.
"Thank you, thank you."
As Underwood stepped down, the principal had already directed everyone to line up and shake hands with him in turn. The camera moved closer and began filming.
It was a perfect event.