The students listened politely, but their attention drifted. A few whispered to each other. Some stared up at the basketball hoops. Teachers clapped enthusiastically at the end of each speech, hoping the applause might encourage the students to stay engaged.
Near the side entrance, the final speaker waited quietly.
His name was Daniel Carter, and unlike the others, he didn’t look like someone who usually gave speeches. Daniel stood taller than most men in the room, his shoulders broad from years of physical work. His boots were heavy leather, stained with dried mud that had cracked along the seams. He wore faded blue jeans and a thick denim jacket with a trucking company patch stitched above the chest pocket. His hands looked rough, the kind of hands shaped by steering wheels, loading docks, and long miles under open sky.
A few parents sitting near the bleachers noticed him and whispered.
“Is he one of the speakers?”
“He’s a truck driver, I think.”
One woman tilted her head skeptically. “Interesting choice for Career Week.”
