When we get to the front, I glance around. Nerves dance in my stomach.

Officer Sullivan, wearing his uniform, steps onto the ladder. As he climbs a few rungs, Dad grips the side, holds it steady. Officer Sullivan raises his palm and the crowd quickly grows silent.

“Hello, everyone. Thank you so much for coming on such short notice. I know I’m overwhelmed, so I can only imagine how the Crawfords must be feeling right now.” He smiles warmly at Mom, then lifts his gaze. “This is our community. We’re here to show unity, to let the Crawford family know they’re valued members of Riviere. Their presence and generosity make us better. We are privileged to speak out against hate and intolerance.”

Shawn climbs down the ladder, nods to Logan and me.

There’s not much room, but we’re able to balance on the same rung, cling to the ladder, and mostly face the crowd.

With my free hand, I give a small wave. “Hi. I’m Cade Crawford.”

“And I’m Logan March.”

We get a few chuckles from the crowd. Of course they know who we are. I spot Officer Tisdale and, to my big surprise, Miss Wather. She waves to us.

Taking Dad’s advice to speak from the heart, I begin. “On behalf of my family, thank you for the overwhelming support.” I pause, look over at the swastika, then refocus on the people gathered around us. “Today, your presence is a positive statement about who we are as a community. We’re saying that bigotry, racism, and antisemitism, and everything else this symbol of hate represents, are not welcome here.”

The crowd breaks into applause.

“History teaches us that being silent and not speaking against injustice allows injustice to thrive. Let’s show the world who we are. Please hold up your signs!”

Three hundred people hold up HUMANKIND WELCOME HERE! Many others are empty-handed. We needed more signs.

“Humankind welcome here!” The crowd chants it over and over again, louder and louder. I spot Bethany Beshett with her phone out. Standing next to her, there’s a woman taking pictures with a professional-looking camera.

When the chanting dies down to a murmur, I lift my chin, motioning for Logan to continue. She shifts her grip and pivots, facing more people. “As you may have heard, the New York education commissioner announced that the assignment will never be given again. We’re relieved and grateful that there will be no debate. But it’s not enough.” She points to the vandalism. “We’re getting rid of this symbol of hate today, but we need to continue to work hard to ensure it never happens again. Today is only one day. Every day we need to be vigilant against all forms of hate. We hope you’ll join us and display these signs in the windows of your homes and businesses.”