The Voice Missing from the Op-Ed

Before I Pressed Send

1By Thursday afternoon, my op-ed had a headline: “Make Room for a Coding Class.” I, Zadie, had collected comments from students who already made games and websites at home. Their answers filled my notebook. The article was due before the school newspaper meeting, and I wanted my name on the opinion page.

2I carried my laptop to the student workroom to finish. Across the table, Ren was drawing boxes on a course-request form. When I explained my article, he tapped his pencil against an empty box. “Would the class be for people who already know how?” he asked. “I share a computer with three other people. I’d need to start at the beginning.”

3I pulled my hands into my lap. Somewhere down the hall, a locker door clanged shut. I had interviewed six experienced coders, but not one beginner. The cursor blinked after my sentence about what students needed. I counted its flashes instead of typing.

4“Can I ask you a few questions?” I said, turning to a clean notebook page. Ren set down his pencil. He described wanting to understand error messages instead of closing them. As he spoke, I wrote a question I should have asked earlier: What would make a first coding class welcoming? The meeting reminder appeared on my screen.

5I could send my polished draft now, or ask the editor for another day. My thumb rested on the trackpad. Then I opened a new message. “I need more reporting,” I typed. “My article leaves out students who would be learning this for the first time.” The reply arrived a minute later: “Bring the revised version tomorrow.”

6At Friday’s meeting, my article still argued for a coding class, but now it called for a beginner course with computer access during school. Ren’s question appeared near the opening. When the editor read it aloud, I stopped checking whether my name fit beneath the headline and listened to the words that followed.