It was 96 in the shade. Air at a premium. A classic Philly heatwave.
And still, the city's young writing pilgrims kept coming, in groups of ten and twenty, and forty and sixty. Others snaked their way to the art museum steps with only a single buddy or two in tow. In all directions, a sea of Philly kids.
There were neighborhood kids, from Point Breeze to Mantua, Passyunk to Olney. And camp kids, and kids representing school, church and arts groups. Some 3,000 in all, by most estimates, had traveled to the art museum steps on this day during DNC Week to set a world record.
And to take on a singular assignment: to tell us, on paper, what they'd do as president of the United States.
The word Mighty was created for such occasions.
What's not so Mighty is the outfit we commissioned to certify our most-kids-writing endeavor is refusing to call it a world record.
I know. Seriously. If you were there, you've got to be as flabbergasted as we are.
Best we can figure they don't think we strictly adhered to the rules they created for the event.
And they're not necessarily wrong.
They wanted the kids--some 3,000 kids, mind you--to stay on the steps in a restricted area throughout the writing program. But when the temps soared to blast furnace conditions, that struck us as cruel and unusual. If some kids decided to get up for water, or to find a semblance of shade to sit and write, we weren't about to hustle after them.
Wouldn't be wise.
Definitely wouldn't be Mighty.
There were other disputes, and from where we sit, a distinctly unpleasant attitude from the judging organization. But tempting as it is to cite chapter and verse why we think it might be wise for said organization to stick to what they know best and steer clear of kids and literacy programs, we're instead going to breathe deep.
And look to a wiser mind for inspiration.
Our choice is one Michelle Obama, whose work with children the world over has been a guiding light at Mighty Writers since we opened our doors in 2009.
At the Wells Fargo Center the night before our art museum event, she uttered seven words we're taking to heart at this very moment.
"When they go low, we go high."
We're just starting to dig into the essays that now fill our Superhero Room at Mighty Writers South.
Many of the teen essays we've seen so far outline policies for education, homelessness, drug laws, gun control, reducing incarceration rates and other pressing issues. You'll be impressed.
Then there's the writings of the younger Mighty kids:
"I would make all the Mighty Writers come inside for air conditioning."
"I would give everybody my Mom's delicious and famous jerk chicken."
"I would make Donald Trump stop talking smack."
One last time, for the record:
On July 26, 2016, at 10am, 3,000 young Philadelphia writers, along with over 500 parents and chaperones, showed up on the steps of our city's art museum in 95-degree heat and suffocating humidity to celebrate the written word.
Using pen and paper, scores of Philly kids--voluntarily and with clarity--told us what they would do as president.
If that's not a Mighty world record, what is?
xox
Tim Whitaker, Executive Director
