The Chair Calls…

My memoir, written for 7th grade English class

            Bang! The gavel split through the silence. “The House Select Committee on Constitutional Rights and Remedies will come to order. The clerk will call the roll,” said Trent Ashby, chairman of the committee.

            The auditorium was silent in anticipation as the clerk finished calling roll. “White?”

            “Here.”

             Ashby continued, “A quorum is present. Thank you members and everyone else who is here. For today’s agenda, the committee will be voting on SB6 which is the bail reform bill that we heard yesterday. Next we will be hearing HB20.” The auditorium groaned. “Then, we will be hearing testimony on SB1.”

            As Ashby finished his introduction, I looked around the room. The bright lights were reflecting off of the beige walls, making it feel as though that was the color of the whole auditorium. It had two aisles that led from their respective entrances at the back, to the two lecterns that faced the committee. Behind the committee, who sat behind two long tables draped in black, were the American and Texas flags. Every other seat in the public seating area had a sign that said, “Due to COVID 19, please leave this seat open.” Many people were ignoring the signs.

            This was the last of many public meetings of the House Committee on Constitutional Rights and Remedies discussing SB1. One of the other hearings relating to SB1 had gone on all night. They didn’t even start public testimony until seven hours after the hearing had started, making it so that many people weren’t able to make their voices heard. I had decided to raise my voice by attending this hearing to stand up for the Texans that would have their vote diluted by this bill if it passed. I was supposed to be at 7th grade orientation. But, I thought this was more important.

            The room was packed. Almost everyone was here for Senate Bill 1, the voter suppression bill that had gained national attention when a group of Democratic members of the Texas Legislature flew to DC in opposition to the bill. I was confident that most of the people there would agree with me on the view that the bill was voter suppression. But, maybe I was in for a surprise.

            The auditorium waited expectantly for Ashby to continue. Finally, after Ashby finished talking to an aide, he said, “The committee will now vote to reflect favorably on the bill to the whole House. The clerk will call the roll.”

            “Chair Ashby?”

            “Yea.”

            “Vice Chair Thompson?”

            The Vice Chair leaned in close to her microphone, and said, “No,” in a voice that some members of the audience found funny.

            When voting was done Ashby said, “The yeas are nine, and the nays are five. Without objection, I move to present the bill favorably upon the whole house.” After a short pause, Ashby banged the gavel and continued, “Hearing none, we will now move to HB20.” The temperature in the room seemed to go up ten degrees, as everyone felt SB1 drawing nearer. “The chair calls representative Brisco Cain to the stand to introduce his bill.”

            A dark haired, short man wearing glasses and a dark gray suit made his way to one of the lecterns.

             “Thank you for having me here today. I have worked closely with many of you to make this bill the best it could possibly be,” he began. Thirty minutes later, after covering everything possible within the bill, he finished, “Thank you, I am happy to take any questions the committee may have.”

            “Thank you, the chair recognizes representative Bucy,” said Ashby.

            “Thank you, Chairman,” said Bucy. “What was your inspiration for this bill?”

            “That’s a good question,” replied Mr. Cain. “As many of you know, I first introduced this bill in 2017.”

            “This is going to take forever,” I think. I wanted them to hurry up and get to SB1, but at the back of my mind, I was nervous.

            I remembered when I was waiting outside of the auditorium, there was a group of people standing close to my mom and I when we overheard a bit of their conversation. They were talking about SB1. They called it a ‘voter integrity bill' and audibly wondered, “Are any Democrats here?”

            “Yes,” replied someone else. I cut out a part of my testimony that had to do with more partisan issues and added a bit about how there was no evidence of widespread voter fraud in Texas.

            Back in the present, I was starting to feel more relaxed. The hearing was getting interesting. Bucy had asked Mr. Cain about how he got the idea for the bill and wasn’t getting a straight answer. Finally, Cain said, “I think this is what my voters want.”

            Bucy dug in, “You’re voters! Not your constituents?” A few people in the auditorium laughed.

            “Mr. Bucy, I don’t think that you’re engaging in polite discourse,” said Mr. Cain in a hurt voice.

            “I asked you a question, and you won’t answer it. So I’m not engaging in polite discourse?” questioned Bucy, raising his voice a little. “Do you have any experience being banned from a social media platform?”

            “Well, yes. You and I are Facebook friends, and as you may remember, in 2018 my friend Beto O'rourke tweeted something along the lines of, ‘Hell, yes, we’re going to take your AR-15s.’ I responded with something like, ‘My AR-15 is waiting for you.’ I believe I was banned for ninety days.”

            “So you think that threatening someone’s life isn't a reason for a private company to enforce their own code of conduct?”

            “Mr. Bucy, I don’t believe I was threateni-”

            “Let’s say this becomes law. If someone denies the Holocaust on social media, would this exemption apply to them?” said Bucy, staring at Cain.

            “This is starting to get pretty fun,” I think to myself.

            As Cain finally finishes his stuttered answer, Bucy says, “No further questions.”

            “Okay. Thank you. I am glad to hear that you two are Facebook friends. This represents the bi-partisan spirit that this committee is looking for,” said Ashby into the microphone. The auditorium laughed, and a few members of the committee cracked smiles.

            As the next few members conducted their questioning, I watched in amazement. I was starting to realize just how much power was in this room. We were deciding things that would affect millions of people. This room was probably the room with the most people that had Wikipedia articles that I had ever been in.

            “We will now move on to public testimony for HB20,” said Ashby, when the last committee member had finished their questioning. “As a reminder, each individual will have 2 minutes to testify. At that time we would like you to wrap up your testimony. Okay, at this time the chair calls Kris Calhoun, you are representing yourself and Net Decision, and you are registered against the bill. Is that correct?”

            “That is correct, thank you, Mr. Chairman. I am a lifelong conservative entrepreneur…” droned Calhoun.

            After two hours of testimony, I got a general impression that most of the people testifying on HB20 seemed to be industry representatives who were mostly against the bill and people who were obviously here for SB1 and probably just signed up to testify because they saw the bill on the agenda who were mostly for the bill.

            “Thank you, everyone for your participation,” said Ashby when testimony for HB20 concluded.

            Every member of the audience seemed to take a deep breath at the same moment. The testimony on HB20 ended up being somewhat entertaining, and I was excited for more. There were 79 witnesses registered for SB1. Testimony would be limited to two minutes.

            “At this time, the Chair calls representative Murr to explain this bill, which is identical to the committee substitute that we heard in our last meeting.”

            “Thank you, Mr. Chairman. This bill is the exact same as the bill filed in the first and second special sessions,” began Murr in a confident voice. Hewrapped up his testimony relatively quickly with, “Thank you, I am happy to take any questions you may have.”

            “Thank you. Members, any questions?” asked Ashby, looking at the committee. “Ms. Thompson, and then I’ll call Mr. Bucy.”

            “Thank you for your work, Mr. Chairman. This bill is the one with the poll watchers, right?” asked Thompson.

            “Yes, it is,” said Murr.

            “Okay, and you know my concerns?”

            “Yes, I heard your point about the poll watchers in the last hearing.”

            As the questioning continued, I began to get more nervous. Knowing it was getting closer and closer to the first time I had ever done anything with real-world implications.

            “Thank you for your time,” said Ashby, as if he was bracing himself for what was to come. “We will now move on to public testimony. As a reminder, you will have two minutes to testify. We will start with testimony online. The chair calls Jennifer Chapman. Jennifer, can you hear us?”

            Silence.

            “Jennifer, I think you’re on mute.”

            “No! Not old people on Zoom,” I think. “This is going to take forever!”

            “Can you hear me now?” said Jennifer as I heard her click a button on her computer over the speakers.

            “Yes, I see you are registered for the bill. Please give us your two minutes.”

            “Thank you, I represent Texas Veterans with disabilities, as well as myself,” she began.

            As I watch, I think about how weird it must be for most people in the auditorium to see a kid there. I was pretty sure that most had never seen a child at a Texas House committee meeting before.

            Luckily for all of us, there were only two people testifying via Zoom, so we promptly headed to the first in-person witness with, “The Chair calls Caleb Horn to the stand.”

            “Thank you, Chairman Ashby and members of the committee. My name is Caleb Horn, and I am registered against the bill.”

            “Off to a good start,” I think, expecting a vast majority of people testifying to also be against the bill.

            “Excuse me, sir. Your time is up. members, any questions?” interrupted Ashby after two short minutes, as he was in the middle of complementing representative Thompson, the Vice Chair, on her statements regarding poll watchers, which would have a much lower barrier to entry if the bill passed. Vice Chair Thompson was the first to be called on and asked if Horn could finish his statement. A few audience members along with most of the committee showed signs of amusement, as Horn quickly continued his testimony.

            “Thank you, Ms. Thompson. As I was saying, the argument that there is no one who is actually affected by poll watchers is invalid, as representative Thompson has contributed some touching personal stories that show how many of her constituents have been intimidated by poll watchers, and even disincentivised to vote by them. I am sure that all members of this committee want every Texan to be able to vote easily for their candidate of choice,” he finished sarcastically.

            Ms. Thompson asked a few more questions and handed off the mic to the next representative, who asked Horn even more questions, more, and more, and more, until finally the last one. Even with the large volume of redundant questions, it was still intriguing, and I was pleased that I had come. Even in reflection to this day, it was one of the most interesting days of my life. That might seem counterintuitive. After all, it was just a boring legislative hearing that had dragged on for hours. But, it wasn’t that boring in my opinion. This is the sort of thing I love participating in. I will continue to love it for the rest of my life. Most of the committee were joking around and talking to each other. It wasn’t just the Democrats and Republicans talking in two separate groups. They were intermingling, actually talking to each other. This was a big surprise to me, as any person who reads the news would assume that these people hate each other. But in reality, they are more like a group of middle schoolers that disagree on what the best flavor of ice cream is.

            “If you look up voter fraud convictions, Texas, then you will find a ton of stories relating to convictions,” asked another committee member, still questioning Horn. Some audience members laughed at that.

            “I respectfully ask the audience to not make outbursts during the hearing,” said Ashby. The question referred to a statement Horn had made about the lack of voter fraud convictions in recent Texas history. I was sure this was the case, so I decided to fact check the representative. I looked up exactly what he had said and saw no results that said anything about voter fraud convictions in Texas.

            The witnesses came and went, with the occasional laugh or scoff of disapproval from the audience or a committee member. 

            At that moment, there was a commotion at the back of the room, a man in a brown shirt with a wheelchair, a “Come and Take It” banner, a “Make America Great Again” hat, a Confederate flag, and an American flag came into the room. Everyone looked at him and then turned their attention back to the action, me included. But I couldn’t help glancing at him every few seconds.

            The man’s turn arrived somewhat quickly with, “Next, the chair calls Charlie Maddox.” He slowly made his way down to the lectern and waited. “Alright, Charlie, please proceed.”

            “I have a disability, and I ain't have no trouble voting.”

            “Just because you didn’t have any trouble voting doesn’t mean everybody else didn’t have trouble doing it,” I think, exasperated.

            “And ya know, the socialist, the communist, whatever you wanna call e’m, the evil we fight.”

            “Oh my god,” I think. “Really?!?”

            “You’re tearing down democracy.” By that point, I thought it was over, yet he just kept going on, and on, and on.

            When he was done, Ashby asked, “Members, any questions?” There was silence.

            “God bless you,” said Charlie. As he left the stand, the room was in utter silence.

            “God bless you, too,” replied Ashby. When Dan got to the back of the room I saw someone give him the thumbs up. I stiffened in my seat. Unbeknownst to me at the time, I would be called soon.

            “Up next, we have Spencer Handley, and on deck is Josh Goldenberg,” said Ashby in the now familiar routine of calling the next person and the person on deck. My heart immediately started thumping, I looked around at all of the people there, knowing that most didn’t agree with me on this bill. I think about all of their accusing faces that I’m sure I’ll see when I’m at the lectern.

            The time passes quickly with many tense and exciting moments. Finally, after Spencer finishes his testimony, Ashby leaned into his microphone and said, “The chair calls Josh Goldenberg to the stand,”.

            I slowly get out of my seat, taking the single sheet of paper with my testimony. I think about how stupid I must look, with my one sheet of paper. Almost everybody else had brought a binder stuffed to the breaking point with paper, or nothing. My knees crack loudly from the stiffness of sitting still for five hours. I get to the stand and Ashby says, “Alright, Josh, I see you are registered against the bill, please proceed with your two minutes.” As he says that I’m registered against the bill, I hear murmurs from behind me, but I ignore them.

            “Thank you, Chairman Ashby and members of the committee,” I begin. My nervousness goes away as I nail all of my points, emphasizing how the bill would reduce the overall amount of early voting hours and how that would harm Texans. The soft mutters from various audience members bounce off of me, and I feel free—free from judgement, free from criticism, and free from seventh grade orientation that I am technically supposed to be at right now. I wind down my testimony with the note, “Thank you chairman Ashby, I hope you consider my testimony.”

            “Thank you, Josh,” he said. “It says on your witness registration form that you are a student. Where do you go to school?”

            “St. Stephen’s Episcopal School.”

            “Okay, thank you for coming here today. It’s always very impactful to hear from our youth.”

            “Thank you,” I say. As I walk back to my seat, I see many people in the audience give me the thumbs up. I smile and take my seat. “That was fun,” I think.

            The next hour entailed some more entertaining testimony, including a capitol insurrectionist. “I was at the Capitol on January 6th. You’re trying to make us out as criminals, my only crime: praying on the Senate Floor.”

            “And criminal trespass,” I think.

            After a few hours, my mom says it’s time to go, so we get up and leave.

            “Excuse me,” said a woman behind me and my mom, who looked in a rush, just as we exited the committee room.

            My mom and I stepped to the side so that she could get past us. Just as we were nearing the elevator the same woman said, “Excuse me,” again.

            “Yes,” my mom replied politely, as it was now clear that she wanted to talk to us.

            “I’m with the Washington Post, and I am wondering if you could answer some questions for me?”

            “Sure,” I say, marveling at the fact that a reporter was asking me questions.

            “Why did you come down here today?” asked the reporter, scribbling some notes on a small yellow pad.

            My mind is still replaying every second of my testimony in my mind, and I subsequently spent a minute saying, “Umm…. Uhh….” The reporter talks to my mom for a second and then goes back into the hearing room. The door slams shut with a loud Bang!