You’re just another black boy with no future. Judge Harmon’s gavel crashes down. Devon Taylor rises. The courtroom falls silent. 17. Shoulders squared despite the weight of every stare.
The judge leans forward. I know your kind. Just another statistic. His finger jabs the air between them. No discipline. No father figure.
The judge’s lips curl. Where is your father anyway? Devon maintains perfect eye contact. May I call him, your honor? Judge Harmon smirks. By all means, if he even answers.
Devon pulls out his phone, dials. The courtroom watches. Dad, Judge Harmon says you failed to raise me right. He’s wondering where you are. Devon’s voice remains steady. Could you come to courtroom 4B now?
Who exactly waits on the other end of that line? Earlier that day, Devon Taylor enters the courthouse with his science project, a sophisticated air quality monitoring system. The metal detector beeps. Officer Briggs steps forward, eyes narrowing. What’s that contraption?
He grabs the device without waiting for an answer. An air quality monitor, sir, for my presentation to the environmental committee today. Briggs turns the device over roughly. Looks suspicious to me. Devon keeps his voice level. I have documentation.
He reaches toward his backpack. Hands where I can see them, Briggs shouts, drawing attention from everyone in the lobby. Devon freezes. His heart pounds as Briggs calls for backup. Got a suspicious device. Unoperative subject.
Two more guards appear. Devon notices Judge Harmon watching from nearby, arms crossed, making no move to intervene. I’m just here for my scheduled presentation, Devon explains again. Judge Harmon approaches. His gaze shifts between Devon and the device. Why aren’t you in school, boy?
I have an excused absence, sir. I’m presenting to the environmental committee. Environmental committee in my courthouse? The judge’s tone drips with disbelief. Yes, sir. Yes. Room 302 at 11:00 a.m. Dr. Williams is expecting me. The judge checks his watch. We’ll see about that. Bring him to my courtroom first.
The guards escort Devon away. His carefully constructed project now sits partially disassembled in Officer Briggs’s hands. As they walk, Devon notices other visitors with briefcases and electronics passing through security without question. A white student with a science fair display board walks right through.
Devon texts his father. Delayed at security might miss presentation time. His father replies instantly. What’s happening? Devon starts typing then stops. His father has enough pressure already. Just extra security checks. Nothing serious.
Judge Harmon walks ahead, his robes flowing behind him. Devon catches fragments of his conversation with Briggs. These people always have excuses. Teach him about authority. Knows his place after today. Devon straightens his shoulders. This isn’t about his project anymore. What does Judge Harmon really want with a high school student’s environmental science project?
