Arie Chauvette beamed as she sat in a tall, leather-backed chair, her legs dangling below.
On any normal day, she’s a fourth-grader at Epsom Central School. But in that moment, she assumed the seat of state Sen. David Rochefort of Littleton.
Arie leaned forward, enraptured. Her eyes locked on Virginia Drew, director of the State House Visitor Center.
“Senator David Rochefort represents over 57 towns — the whole top of New Hampshire,” Drew told her, drawing her words out for maximum effect.
Arie, surrounded by her classmates in the Senate chamber, was mesmerized.
“It felt like I had the power to vote,” she said.
Each week during the legislative session, hundreds of students make their fourth-grade sojourn to the New Hampshire State House, learning about the history of their state and the legislative process.
The tour focuses on New Hampshire firsts — the first state to write its own constitution, the first to ratify the U.S. Constitution, the first in a string of presidential primaries — and the storied past of the State House, the oldest in the country where lawmakers still meet in their original chambers.
Kids marveled at what’s jokingly dubbed the “wall of losers” in the visitor center, which boasts a treasure trove of merchandise from presidential hopefuls who’ve passed through New Hampshire.
Some were more confusing than others.
“Why does that one say ‘MATH?'” Shawn Bergeron asked, pointing to a sign that brandished the slogan of 2020 candidate Andrew Yang: Make America Think Harder. “Who is MATH?”
The students greeted their state representatives, Carol and Dan McGuire, then peppered Drew with questions as she led the group of about 50 around the building in a single-file line, wet shoes squeaking on the pristine tile floors. The first stop was the Hall of Flags, where Drew regaled them with stories of battle flags hundreds of years old.
This tour was a special one for Drew, who also serves as chair of the Select Board in Epsom. She told the kids from her hometown’s school about Andrew McClary, who lived in their town and was killed in the Battle of Bunker Hill.
“We try to find the connection to their state capital,” Drew said after the tour. She and her staff spend time researching before each group comes so they can personalize it. After 26 years leading these, her repertoire is expansive.
Next up was the Senate chamber, where Drew asked the kids to guess how much money state legislators make in New Hampshire. “One thousand dollars a week,” one said. Arie suggested $170 each week, only to learn that state representatives and senators make only $100 each year.
“How many of you would vote to pay the lawmakers more?” Drew asked them. Most of the kids raised their hands. “How many of you would vote to pay them more money if it had to come from your own money?”
Their hands dropped like flies.
In the busiest season, Drew and her team host three schools every morning. The visitor center runs like a well-oiled machine, with staff members conveying their movements on walkie-talkies. There can be unexpected hiccups, however, like a security meeting in Representatives Hall that rerouted the tour.
In the Executive Council chamber, next to the governor’s office, the kids roleplayed as elected officials and took a mock vote.
Drew pulled one student, Jamie Guth, out of the crowd to demonstrate what the governor and Council do.
“Jamie’s friends are gonna be the people that he hires to do things, and Jamie, you also get to pick the judges. Would it be helpful if they were all your best friends?” Drew asked. “Then, if anyone has a problem with what Governor Jamie is doing, then they can just go to the judges who are his best friends. Ladies and gentlemen, do you like that? Do you think that’s a fair way of doing it?”
The kids responded with a dutiful “no.”
They concluded in Representatives Hall, where only a day prior, state representatives had spent nearly 10 hours voting on bills.
Drew proposed a bill for the kids’ consideration: What if they extended lunchtime by 15 minutes, added 15 more minutes to recess and an extra half hour of classroom time to help with tough subjects?
The students all thought it sounded like a good idea — until Drew pointed out that that would mean an extra hour of school every day, which caused the kids to erupt in a mix of cheers and boos.
“Now you sound like a legislature,” Drew joked. “Do you always agree with your friends? Is it OK to disagree?”
The class debated her proposal.
“Yes, because if someone’s bad at a subject” then they can get extra help, said Mason Smith from the back row.
Others, like Arie, thought it wasn’t a good idea. An extra hour of school would take away time for clubs and activities, she said. Her classmates ultimately rejected the law.
After another loop through the visitor center, Drew saw the kids out to their school bus and waved goodbye, then turned around and climbed the steps again. She was off to the next one.
