The classroom transformed into a battlefield of words, each side ready to fight for their beliefs. There I stood with my fellow teachers as it was our turn first. We went up, firmly supporting a government-imposed curfew for minors. Our voices were steady, our arguments clear on how curfews would protect teenagers from crime, keep them focused on school, and ensure their safety.
The parents and cops were on our side, their words filled with concern for our teenagers. “Teenagers are more influenced by a bad environment during nighttime!” one parent insisted, their voice firm. “Every night, we see what happens when kids are left unsupervised,” a police officer added. Their confidence made our side feel stronger, like we were building an unshakable wall of logic.
But the students and sellers fired back. “A curfew won’t stop bad behavior; it just punishes responsible kids!” a student argued, frustration burning in their tone. “We have lives too. Why should we be treated like criminals?” A seller chimed in, shaking their head. “This would ruin businesses. Fewer teens out at night means fewer customers. Some of us rely on that income!”
The room buzzed with intensity. No one was backing down, no one was finished. Just as the debate was reaching its boiling point, the bell rang—sharp, final, cutting through the chaos. Complaints and sighs filled the air as voices faded away. The debate was over, not because we had reached a conclusion, but because time had simply run out.
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