which he wrote on the chalkboard in really, really sloppy handwriting: RULES. SCHOOLWORK. HOMEWORK.
“What else?” he said as he wrote, not even turning around. “Just call things out!”
He wrote everything everyone called out. FAMILY. PARENTS. PETS.
One girl called out: “The environment!” THE ENVIRONMENT. he wrote on the chalkboard, and added: OUR WORLD!
“Sharks, because they eat dead things in the ocean!” said one of the boys, a kid named Reid, and Mr. Browne wrote down SHARKS.
“Bees!” “Seatbelts!” “Recycling!” “Friends!” “Okay,” said Mr. Browne, writing all those things down.
He turned around when he finished writing to face us again. “But no one’s named the most important thing of all.”
We all looked at him, out of ideas. “God?” said one kid,
and I could tell that even though Mr. Browne wrote “God” down, that wasn’t the answer he was looking for.
Without saying anything else, he wrote down: WHO WE ARE! “Who we are,” he said, underlining each word as he said it.
“Who we are! Us! Right? What kind of people are we? What kind of person are you?”
“Isn’t that the most important thing of all? Isn’t that the kind of question we should be asking ourselves all the time?”
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