The Latte Rebellion Read Online Free Page A

just waiting for us.
    The following April:
Ashmont Unified School District Board Room
    I was sweating, even though I had prepared for this moment. Every dull second studying Robert’s Rules of Order for Mock Trial, all the time I spent poring over the list of charges against me and the list of rules I supposedly violated (information I had a right to, according to the ACLU and school district policy) was going to pay off, I told myself firmly.
    Even though the itchy sweat under my hairline was trying to tell me differently.
    “Order,” the disciplinary hearing officer demanded one last time, and the crowd complied. All fifty-plus of them. Of course, that number didn’t include those on the dais; the hearing panel sat behind a long, semicircular desk, slightly above the audience and directly facing me . I could see Vice Principal Malone standing to one side, gazing at me with an unreadable expression, and I clenched my muscles so I wouldn’t fidget nervously. I stared over at the California flag in the corner of the room so I wouldn’t have to look anyone in the eye.
    “We will begin by reading the charges against Ms. Jamison, and then proceed to examine the evidence of her violations of school and district policy. Witness testimony will follow. After the hearing, the panel will determine whether or not to recommend expulsion to the school board.” The hearing officer sighed, as if the entire proceedings bored him beyond belief. As if this was nothing but a routine disciplinary hearing. For him, maybe it was.
    “Charge number one: Willfully and repeatedly violating School District Policy 418.III.K—by intentionally harassing a group of students, creating substantial disorder, and causing a hostile educational environment. This was done through the distribution of inflammatory materials on school property.
    “Charge number two: Violating School District Policy 418.III.M—by repeatedly disrupting school activities and defying explicit school policy regarding unsanctioned activities.
    “Charge number three: Violating School District Policy 418.III.N—by engaging in what was construed by some as a terrorist threat.”
    Even though I was ready for it, even though I’d known that the T-word was going to come up sooner or later, my stomach sank to the very bottom of my shoes.
    This was it. My success or failure in this room today would determine whether my thus-far stellar academic life would continue on with relative normalcy … or whether it was well and truly over, and my lifelong career as burger flipper was about to begin.

    To:
    From: Latte Rebellion
    Re: A Call to Arms, or All Hands on Mugs
    Dear Friends,
    Please read this missive carefully. We need your help. If you got this message, you may already be playing a key role in the Latte Rebellion. You may be a relative, a friend, a Sympathizer, or even an Organizer.
    What we need from you is simple. In order for the Latte Rebellion to achieve its goal of spreading the word around the English-speaking world, consuming coffee at every turn, we must raise the necessary funds. Towards this end we ask you to (A) buy our T-shirt, and (B) forward this information to everyone you know and ask them to buy a T-shirt.
    Not sure you want to be a part of the Latte Rebellion? Visit our website for more information:
www.latte-rebellion.com
    Incidentally, this is also where you can purchase the T-shirt. The Movement Thanks You!
    Yours in latte-ness,
    Agent Alpha and Captain Charlie
    P.S. This is not a joke. We really are selling shirts.

2
    Publicizing the Rebellion should have been easy. If you looked at our written plans, it was easy.
    But thanks to my parents—and my Hindi-speaking, sari-wearing Indian grandmother, who lived several hours south of us in Bakersfield—our plans suffered a slight delay.
    “I hope you finished vacuuming your room,” my mother said on Monday night, rubbing a hand tiredly through her