Group Project

             I walk up the pathway on the lawn. The grass is a thick green and the air envelopes me with the smothering feeling of summer. The humidity melts away by a soft breeze that makes the tree leaves shuffle. I was never a fan of summer. It’s too sticky and tiresome; I prefer the soft colors of winter as well as the gentle touch of snowflakes on my eyelashes but I digress. I step up the grandiose marble stairs and through the giant double doors into the Pennsylvania State House. The building is so huge I have no idea where the conference hall is. I see Benjamin Franklin and John Hancock conversing near a door off to the side so I walk over to ask where we are supposed to be.

“Hey Tom!” Ben waves and greets me and hits me on the back of my shoulder. Ben and I have been friends for the longest time. I’ll never go drinking with him again though. The last time he had too much he said he was god and tried to fly a kite during a thunderstorm. I’ve definitely learned my lesson after that one. However, John is much quieter and the only thing I really know is that he used to take calligraphy classes.

“Hey Ben. Do you know where we are suppose to meet today? I really want today to be the last meeting.” I ask and he looks around for a few seconds and hums.

“Yes it’s right down that hallway the room should be number three.” he finally says.

“Okay great I’m going to head in there early I’ll see you guys there in a little bit.” I start to walk away and wave at them both. I check my pocket watch as I’m heading down the hallway. The time is ten till eleven which is just enough to get there and set everything up. I almost walk right by the room but catch the number at the last second. A small placard that says “Conference Room 3” I see only two other people walk inside and I follow them.
The room itself is gorgeous with dark wooden tables and white marble floors. There is even a intricate mural along one of the walls. The painting consists of angels lying on clouds or holding elegant flowers. I see little name cards over each chair at the different tables. I walk around and over towards the corner and then back towards the door until I see the small “Thomas Jefferson” name card over my supposed chair. I sit down and set my bag in my lap.

Many people are filing in now and I recognize some of the people I’ve sat near at other conferences. I see Edward Rutledge, Samuel Adams, William Floyd, and of course John Adams and Benjamin Franklin. I check my watch again getting antsy for the meeting to start. It’s close to ten fifty six. Ben sits down across the room from me an immediately starts jotting notes down on a piece of paper. I do the same thing so It look like I know what I’m doing when really I’m brainstorming good lunch places to try in Philly while I’m here. The room is filling up with quiet chatter and small talk around me. Just then Benjamin stands and announces in a booming voice,
“All right everyone!” all of the men immediately quiet down and look at him.

“We are here today to start the continuation of our document. One of the most important and groundbreaking pieces of paper is in our lifetime.” he pauses and glances down at the paper in his hands. I look down at mine which is just titled “Brunch ideas” he starts again,

“We are the beginning of an apocalypse of justice, the epitome of self righteousness, and the degradation of tyranny among evil men!” his words start to become powerful in a commanding and authoritative voice.

“Today we meet once again under God to provide liberty to those enslaved under taxes and wrongful jurisdiction!” the men seated begin to cheer and agree.

“We sit together now as equals with powers of our own that have been brewing since the Mayflower. It’s high time we cut the spider’s thread under us before we are condemned to a life of hellish monarchy!” all of them cheer, including myself, and start to clap for the wonderful speech just given. Benjamin glances at me with an conniving smile and says,

“I will now turn over this pep to talk to my good friend Thomas Jefferson.” He always has tricks up his sleeve. I sigh with my inevitable fate and stand up. I don’t bother picking my paper up as well.

“As Benjamin said we are here today for one purpose. We have come so far in our goals and the collaboration of all of us will bear fruit of freedom. Today is the last day we meet in frustration and oppression. The last day we go home to our family to pay outrageous taxes and live in fear of a government that sits on a pedestal thousands of miles away. The last day we succumb to such outrageous demands.” There were cheers and applause some of the same intensity but never as powerful as Ben’s motivational speeches. I decide that’s good enough so I sit which marks the beginning of a very painful process. Everyone, myself included, reaches into their bags and briefcases an gets out their laptops.

I open up my computer and hover over the shared google doc. I take a deep breath and close my eyes before I click on it. Already there are a million little highlights of peoples names zooming all over the page, fixing things, highlighting text, doing all sorts of little adjustments. I listen to the chatter going on around the room.

“Why is the red line under Congres?”

“Because that’s not how it’s spelled Carter.”

“I’m like 100% sure I spelled it right.”

“It’s spelled with two s’s”

“No???”

As I start the 7th article right before Rutledge cuts me off and starts typing in front of me. What is he doing? This is the part where everyone starts yelling at each other across the room. I hear the overlapping voices grow along with the tension and chaos in the room. I speak to Rutledge,

“Rutledge stop typing in front of me”

“Don’t type so slow” he responds. As I’m typing the voices become even louder and more aggressive.

“Stop deleting everything I type!”

“Stop highlighting everything!!”

“Unalienable”

“No, Inalienable!”

“Adams if you don’t get out of my paragraph!”

“JOHN HANCOCK IF YOU DON”T STOP CHANGING THE FONT SIZE I SWEAR TO GOD.”

Everything has descended into complete madness as we all continue angrily typing and shouting. No one can make any decisions in these conditions. After an exhausting forty minutes to an hour we collectively agree that the document is finished. Everyone looks tired and worn out beyond recovery. John Adams announces that he would now turn in the document to the Queens google classroom. I look across the room to see Benjamin with the same evil smile as before. We all close our laptops and stretch and wait. John turns the document in and when he tell us we all cheer and shake hands. Everything seems to be going just fine. I excuse myself and leave with my bag and laptop and head to a quiet bench in the hall. When I make sure no one else is around I open the document and take one last look. There are no words to describe my shock when I look at what was turned in. We submitted the document all right. We submitted the Declaration of Independence… in comic sans.