When Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. was assassinated on that fateful Thursday in April 1968, the news made such an impression on my young mind that I began clipping newspaper articles and researching his life. I created a scrapbook as a personal tribute to the great man's legacy and worked on it every spare moment.

The following Monday during study time, my home room teacher noticed me working on the bright red portfolio, stuffed and dripping with newspaper clippings. She stood next to me, observing for a few moments, and then asked, "What's this?" She picked up the portfolio-scrapbook and flipped through it.

"Um," I whispered self-consciously. "Just my own tribute to Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. He was just assassinated in Memphis, you know." Then I shrugged and asked defensively, "I'm finished with my homework, so it's okay for me to work on it, isn't it?"

She nodded and set the portfolio back on my desk. Then lowering her voice to match mine, she asked, "Do you really know who Dr. King was and why he was important?"

I nodded and replied, "Besides being a Baptist minister, he was a prominent leader in the civil rights' movement, advocating nonviolence." Then I added, "That's what I admire most about him, his dedication to peace."

My teacher smiled. "I am very surprised that a 12-year-old girl...."

"I'll be 13 in a couple weeks," I interrupted.

"Okay then, I am still surprised that a 13-year-old girl understands and cares about such an adult issue as civil rights."

"Especially a White girl in the wilds of Oregon, huh?" I remarked sarcastically, grinning ruefully. Before she could respond, I continued, "But you know, it's not just about the oppression and segregation of Black people in the South. It's about justice and equality for every American everywhere. It's written in the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence that we are 'all created equal' and have the 'inalienable rights to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.' And it's every American's duty to defend our rights whenever, wherever they are violated."

Throughout my soapbox speech, my teacher's eyes widened with surprise. Then she exclaimed, her voice no longer hushed, "Well! I'd like you to give an oral presentation about this to the class on Friday!"

Glancing around self-consciously at the sea of white faces, turned now in our direction with quizzical expressions for the interruption, I stammered, "Uh... Okay."

I hated giving oral presentations! Why had I agreed? Did I even have a choice

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