the first murder is wrong. You can’t call that fair. It’s bollocks.”
“Language!”
“Sorry! But she’s wrong.”
“Explain why, then. Argue your case. Remember, you are supposed to be honing your communication skills so you can develop an effective argument. This is a debate, not a break-time scrap in the gardener’s shed.”
How does she know about the gardener’s shed? She’s only been here five minutes and she already knows the top smoking hole. I’ll have to warn Cat.
I take a deep breath. “Right. Thank you, Kirsty,” I say super-politely. “Now I’d like to put forward our argument with some actual
facts
.”
I pick up my notebook and read from the scrawl copied down the other night with Robyn. We had quite a laugh doing it, actually. Turns out she’s good company. And her mum makes amazing pizza!
Robyn gives me an encouraging smile. I clear my throat. “OK, so firstly, there is no evidence at all for the idea that the death penalty acts as a deterrent. Scientific studies have consistently failed to show that executions deter people from crime any more than long prison sentences.”
I take a breath and carry on. “
Furthermore,
” I say heavily as I glance at the opposing team, “executing the offender does not undo the damage that has been done. Much better to invest in programs to prevent similar crimes by potential offenders. Oh, and while we’re on the subject of spending money, it is, in fact, more expensive to use the death penalty than it is to keep someone in prison for life.”
I glance at Robyn. She gives me a quick thumbs-up and mouths “miscarriage of justice” at me. I nod at her and turn back to the others.
“And what about the wrongly convicted?” I carry on. “How would Kirsty and her cronies —”
“Ash!” Miss Murray warns.
“Sorry. How would Kirsty and her esteemed colleagues deal with this? The answer is, they wouldn’t. They couldn’t. Hundreds of people facing the death penalty have been released in their last days on death row, some only minutes away from execution. What if their lawyers hadn’t worked so hard? Innocent people — dead. Is this the kind of society you want? Horrific violence matched by state-run barbarism and murder? The death penalty is a
symptom
of a culture of violence, not a
solution
to it. Vote for sense, vote for dignity, and vote for human rights. Vote against this motion.”
Heat creeping around my cheeks and neck, I sit down while some in the class clap and a few boo. Robyn cheers. My heart is racing.
“All right, all right.” Miss Murray waves her arms at us. “We’ve heard lots of arguments on both sides this afternoon. Now it’s time to vote. Those in favor of the motion to bring back the death penalty in the U.K., raise your hands.”
I count the hands: six.
“Those against?”
Twelve hands go up, and so does a cheer from the back. Robyn and I slap hands as though we’ve just won a gold medal at the Olympics.
“Abstentions?” Miss Murray shouts over the noise, and the remaining two put their hands up — Christine and Helen, who sit at the front. They couldn’t get off the fence if it was on fire.
Miss Murray looks up and smiles at me on my way out at the end of the class. Robyn’s gone on ahead as she’s got a guitar lesson.
“You know, we’re starting a debating society. You should join us, Ash.”
I laugh in her face. I don’t mean to be rude, but I can’t help it. Me? Join a school club? I don’t think so.
Miss Murray frowns. “What’s the joke?”
I stop laughing and prepare for a lecture. All my teachers must have said that to me at some time or another: “Would you mind telling us all what you find so funny, Ashleigh?” They know they’ve got you trapped when they say that. If you say, “nothing,” you get a typical sarcastic-teacher put-down: “Well, if it’s nothing, I suggest you stop laughing and get on with some work like the rest of the class.”
But if you told them
“Language!”
“Sorry! But she’s wrong.”
“Explain why, then. Argue your case. Remember, you are supposed to be honing your communication skills so you can develop an effective argument. This is a debate, not a break-time scrap in the gardener’s shed.”
How does she know about the gardener’s shed? She’s only been here five minutes and she already knows the top smoking hole. I’ll have to warn Cat.
I take a deep breath. “Right. Thank you, Kirsty,” I say super-politely. “Now I’d like to put forward our argument with some actual
facts
.”
I pick up my notebook and read from the scrawl copied down the other night with Robyn. We had quite a laugh doing it, actually. Turns out she’s good company. And her mum makes amazing pizza!
Robyn gives me an encouraging smile. I clear my throat. “OK, so firstly, there is no evidence at all for the idea that the death penalty acts as a deterrent. Scientific studies have consistently failed to show that executions deter people from crime any more than long prison sentences.”
I take a breath and carry on. “
Furthermore,
” I say heavily as I glance at the opposing team, “executing the offender does not undo the damage that has been done. Much better to invest in programs to prevent similar crimes by potential offenders. Oh, and while we’re on the subject of spending money, it is, in fact, more expensive to use the death penalty than it is to keep someone in prison for life.”
I glance at Robyn. She gives me a quick thumbs-up and mouths “miscarriage of justice” at me. I nod at her and turn back to the others.
“And what about the wrongly convicted?” I carry on. “How would Kirsty and her cronies —”
“Ash!” Miss Murray warns.
“Sorry. How would Kirsty and her esteemed colleagues deal with this? The answer is, they wouldn’t. They couldn’t. Hundreds of people facing the death penalty have been released in their last days on death row, some only minutes away from execution. What if their lawyers hadn’t worked so hard? Innocent people — dead. Is this the kind of society you want? Horrific violence matched by state-run barbarism and murder? The death penalty is a
symptom
of a culture of violence, not a
solution
to it. Vote for sense, vote for dignity, and vote for human rights. Vote against this motion.”
Heat creeping around my cheeks and neck, I sit down while some in the class clap and a few boo. Robyn cheers. My heart is racing.
“All right, all right.” Miss Murray waves her arms at us. “We’ve heard lots of arguments on both sides this afternoon. Now it’s time to vote. Those in favor of the motion to bring back the death penalty in the U.K., raise your hands.”
I count the hands: six.
“Those against?”
Twelve hands go up, and so does a cheer from the back. Robyn and I slap hands as though we’ve just won a gold medal at the Olympics.
“Abstentions?” Miss Murray shouts over the noise, and the remaining two put their hands up — Christine and Helen, who sit at the front. They couldn’t get off the fence if it was on fire.
Miss Murray looks up and smiles at me on my way out at the end of the class. Robyn’s gone on ahead as she’s got a guitar lesson.
“You know, we’re starting a debating society. You should join us, Ash.”
I laugh in her face. I don’t mean to be rude, but I can’t help it. Me? Join a school club? I don’t think so.
Miss Murray frowns. “What’s the joke?”
I stop laughing and prepare for a lecture. All my teachers must have said that to me at some time or another: “Would you mind telling us all what you find so funny, Ashleigh?” They know they’ve got you trapped when they say that. If you say, “nothing,” you get a typical sarcastic-teacher put-down: “Well, if it’s nothing, I suggest you stop laughing and get on with some work like the rest of the class.”
But if you told them
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