Spring kept rolling in, warmer and brighter each day. The snow melted. The sidewalks dried. Kids went back to riding their bikes and playing after school until the sun dipped low behind the houses. At Bancroft Elementary, the first big event after spring break was the fifth-grade field trip to the Minnesota State Capitol in Saint Paul.
The teachers had been talking about it for weeks—how it was the perfect chance to learn about government, responsibility, and the history of Minnesota. But for Derrick, the trip felt like a welcome change of pace. And maybe even a chance to breathe again.
On the morning of the trip, the fifth graders piled onto two yellow school buses parked in front of the school on 38th Street and 14th Avenue. Kids carried brown paper lunch bags, disposable cameras, jacket pockets full of coins, and the excited energy of kids about to leave Minneapolis for a few hours
Mrs. Andrews’ class sat in the first bus. Derrick, Cal, TJ, Lisa, Yolanda, and Gordy sat together—plus Tony, who begged his teacher to let him ride with Derrick’s class just this once.
As the bus rumbled onto I-94, heading toward Saint Paul, the kids pressed their faces against the windows. Marcus shouted from a few rows back,
“WE GOIN’ TO THE C-A-P-I-T-A-L OF MINNESOTA, MAN!”
“IT’S CAPITOL WITH AN O!” Yolanda corrected him.
Marcus leaned into the aisle.
“How you know that?”
“Because I read,” Yolanda said, flipping her hair dramatically.
Everybody laughed. Even Derrick.
When the buses pulled up, the kids fell silent. The Minnesota State Capitol stood tall on the hill, white stone gleaming in the sun like a giant palace. The gold horses atop the building sparkled so bright they almost hurt to look at.
“Whoa…” TJ whispered.
“That’s real gold,” Lisa said. “My dad told me.”
Tony whistled.
“Man… Minneapolis ain’t got nothing like this.”
Mrs. Andrews herded them into lines.
“Remember—stay with your group. Be respectful. And DO NOT TOUCH ANYTHING THAT LOOKS EXPENSIVE.”
That basically meant everything.
A tour guide led them through the chambers., the first being the House of Representatives. The huge room with wooden desks and green carpet made Derrick imagine important people talking about important things all day.
Cal whispered, “Bet I could run this place one day.”
“Bet you couldn’t,” Marcus shot back.
“Wanna bet?” Cal grinned.
TJ stared at the chandeliers like he was trying to figure out how they were engineered.
“Think they’d let me take one down to study it?” he whispered.
“No,” Derrick said. “No they would not.” In the Governor’s Reception Room, Lisa stood mesmerized by the murals.
“This looks like a painting you walk into,” she whispered.
Yolanda nodded. “Maybe one day we work here.”
Derrick blinked. The idea felt strange. But not impossible.
Lunchtime came, and they sat on the Capitol steps eating their bag lunches of bologna sandwiches, chips, an apples and a cookie. It was good, but Derrick wished there was a slice of cheese to go along with the bologna. He watched all of the people coming and going. This sure was a busy place.
The final part of the tour was climbing up inside the Capitol dome—up winding stairs that felt like they would never end. Some kids got dizzy. Some lost their breath. Some clung to the railing like it was their last hope. But when they reached the top and walked out onto the observation deck— everything changed.
The view stretched across Saint Paul. The river. The Cathedral. Buildings rising far into the distance. St. Paul spread out in front of them.
Derrick felt something stir in his chest. Wonder. Possibility. Tony elbowed him.
“You okay?”
“Yeah,” Derrick said softly. “Just thinking.”
“About what?”
Derrick shrugged. “Everything.”
Tony nodded. That was enough.
On the bus ride home, kids slept, talked quietly, or stared out the windows at the city rolling by. Derrick felt calmer. Lighter. Like the world was bigger than the fight they had a couple of days ago. Bigger than bullies. Bigger than fifth-grade problems. And he liked that feeling.
A few days after the field trip, they all met at Phelps. The sun was warm. The grass was soft again. Kids were playing baseball and tag. The whole park felt alive. Derrick’s knuckles were still a little sore. Leon had a faded bruise on his cheek. Reggie’s jaw was still a little tender. Tony still walked with a slight limp. Marcus’s lip was healed but a shade darker than usual. They were healing. But more than that— they needed to talk.
They sat under their big tree—the same one from last summer. No balls. No running. No wrestling. Just sitting. For a long time, nobody spoke. Finally Leon broke the silence.
“I saw Eddie yesterday, outside of Dave’s Superette. I was ready to punch him again today,” he said quietly. “He didn’t have his boys with him this time.”
“What’d he say?” Derrick asked.
“Nothing. He just tried to mean mug me, so I gave it right back to him.”
“You know they might try to start something again.” Derrick said.
“Yeah,” Reggie said softly. “They might.”
“And we’ll deal with it.” Leon smirked.
Then Derrick said something he’d been thinking since the field trip.
“You know… when we were at the Capitol… I kept thinking…”
Tony raised an eyebrow. “Thinking what?”
“That maybe… maybe we don’t always have to fight. Maybe we can do bigger things one day.”
Marcus blinked.
“Like what? Being the governor?”
Derrick shrugged.
“Why not? Someone’s gotta do it.”
Reggie smiled.
“Yeah… why not?”
Leon leaned back against the tree.
“Maybe we all end up doing something big.”
Tony grinned.
“Or stupid.”
“Probably both,” Marcus said.
They laughed—not loud, not wild—just warm.
Eventually, the quiet ended. Marcus stood up.
“Aight, let’s play some ball.”
Tony grabbed the football.
“Two on two. Reggie’s all-time quarterback.”
Leon clapped his hands.
“Let’s go!”
Derrick jogged to the field with them, feeling the weight of the winter and the fight slowly melt away. They ran. They shouted. They joked. They lived. And as the sun set over the neighborhood—soft and golden—the boys felt whole again. Growing up together in a world that wasn’t always kind… …but always theirs.