Quietly walking into class, you are fully prepared for the activity that you have been dreaming about for days: the debate on the two alternate meanings for the use of candles in The Crucible. In preparation you have spent many red-eye nights arguing with people in the Youtube comments section about whether your dad could beat up their dad, honing your blade of debate to a deadly edge, ready to cut down all in your path. As the teacher opens up the floor for the debate, you obviously go on the side that says the candles indicate the Loch Ness monster is real, and give a look of inferiority to those going to the “Arthur Miller is a Scientologist” interpretation of the lighting fixtures. The opposition’s main arguments: “The Loch Ness monster is as real as Mr. Hall’s twin having hair” and “Lakes aren’t made of water (data from Lake Kathleen)” are tough ones at that, and with no angry, adulterant lumberjack (Crucible reference) in sight to save you, it is your time to send these godless heathens back where they came from. Standing so all can see and realizing this debate will decide the future of the free world, you put the cause before yourself and rise to the level of Frederick Douglass fearlessly fighting for your rights, yelling and interrupting every point they make (just as he would). You slam your hand down in emphasis, getting redder than George Suddock in a breath-holding competition, while your voice is heard throughout the school. The teacher sends you out of the class, but you know the real reason: they can’t handle the truth. Classroom debater, you’re one of us.