The judge barely glances at him. This young man brought unauthorized electronic equipment into a federal building. That requires proper investigation. It’s a science project that I personally vetted. Did you run background checks on him and his family? Judge Harmon asks sharply. Do you know where he’s from? Devon feels heat rising in his face. Dr. Williams shifts uncomfortably. He’s one of our brightest students. That doesn’t answer my question.
Judge Harmon turns to Devon. Where exactly are you from, Mr. Taylor? I was born in Chicago, sir. We moved here 3 years ago. And before Chicago? Devon blinks, confused. My family has been in Chicago for generations. Judge Harmon makes a dismissive noise. Your project will remain confiscated until proper authorities can inspect it. However, he nods to Dr. Williams. You can take responsibility for him attending the meeting without his device.
Dr. Williams protests, but his entire presentation requires his project. Then he shouldn’t have brought suspicious equipment into my courthouse. The judge’s voice rises. Perhaps you’d like to explain to the committee why you’re unprepared. Consider it a lesson in planning ahead. Devon’s hands clench at his sides. May I at least have my presentation slides? They’re on the same laptop we’re holding for inspection.
Dr. Williams checks his watch. We need to go. The committee has a tight schedule. Judge Harmon smiles thinly. Run along then. And Mr. Taylor, next time know your place before you walk into my courthouse. Devon follows Dr. Williams to the meeting room. His heart pounds as they enter. 12 committee members sit around a conference table. Several observers line the walls.
I apologize for the delay, Dr. Williams announces. We’ve had an unexpected situation. Devon steps forward. Every eye in the room turns to him. The weight of their expectations crushes down. I apologize, Devon begins, voice steady, despite the humiliation burning in his chest. Judge Harmon has confiscated my project and presentation materials. I’ll do my best to explain my findings from memory.
Whispers spread through the room. Devon sees pity on some faces. On others, quiet judgment. A woman in the back row shakes her head and writes something in her notebook. How will Devon salvage his presentation without any of his materials? Devon stands before the environmental committee empty-handed. He takes a deep breath and begins speaking from memory. My project measures particulate matter concentrations in lowincome neighborhoods versus affluent areas.
His voice grows stronger with each word. Over 6 months, I documented levels three times higher in minority communities. Despite the absence of visual aids, committee members lean forward. Devon sketches air particle distribution patterns on a borrowed notepad explaining collection methodology and statistical controls. I identified correlation between pollution spikes and respiratory emergency room visits. He draws another diagram. The data shows environmental protection laws are enforced differently based on neighborhood demographics.
