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The high-school high court is called to order, and a lively session begins. Does Christmas music with Christian themes have any place in a public school? Clearly not, argues a teenage lawyer who describes "Silent Night" as a prayer
set to music.

The defendant's team members aren't buying it. This historic carol, they argue before Supreme Court justices, has become part of a seasonal tradition, a bit of Americana repeated so often in shops and malls that it has lost its religious significance. One young lawyer cites a U.S. Supreme Court case that determined the phrase "In God We Trust" on U.S. currency had lost its religious content through "rote repetition."
"You can make the same argument for 'Silent Night,'" he confidently states.

Heads nod in the back of the urban Seattle classroom, where Old Glory hangs high and First Amendment arguments fly. It's moot court day in the Supreme Court unit of AP+ "U.S. Government and Politics," a project-based course designed by UW researchers to maximize student engagement, deepen understanding, and build analytical think-on-your-feet skills.

Students, many wearing neckties loosely looped around their necks, hit all three marks as they proceed with a model case that dives deep into the separation of church and state. It involves two families — one Muslim, one Jewish — who protest a jazz choir's performance of Christian songs in the student center of a public school. When the district replies that no one is forced to sing or to listen to the songs, the families file suit against the school and district in a case that winds its way up to the Supreme Court. The day's moot case is called Hollins v. Santa Barbara Unified School District. It could just as well be called "Silent Night" v. "Santa Baby."

Songs like "Santa Baby" are fair game, argue the plaintiff's teenage attorneys. But "Silent Night" belongs in church, not in public schools. One cites the carol's lyrics: Son of God/Love's pure light. The high-school students are in a "regular school, not a private school" and they should not be forced to listen to this if they don't want to, says the team, which has worked collaboratively to build its high-court argument. "It's really about having respect for other cultures," says one of the lawyers.

A justice intervenes. The students aren't forced to listen, she says. They can go somewhere else if they're uncomfortable with the songs.

But that makes them the "odd one out," counters a student attorney. No one, the team maintains, should be "ostracized for personal beliefs."

One of the justices presents a big-picture perspective. Every day, he says, high-school students are subjected to the Pledge of Allegiance, with the words "One nation, under God." But people who know what religion they're part of shouldn't be fazed. "I know people who are atheists and listen to that every morning. It doesn't affect them because they know who they are."

The students have done their homework, researching past cases over the weeks leading up to the culminating trial and becoming experts on religious clauses in the Constitution and Bill of Rights. Both sides cite the 1971 "Lemon Test," which details requirements for laws concerning religion: Do statutes have a secular legislative purpose? Do they neither advance nor inhibit religion? Do they foster excessive government entanglement with religion?

The students have this material down, but don't agree on the interpretation. Clearly, however, the defense attorneys are taking the lead. The Christmas concerts represent "minimal entanglement," they argue. No one was forced to be in the choir and no one was forced to listen to the music. Plus, the concerts were fundraisers, and didn't involve state monies. Neither was there any intent on behalf of the school district to "promote religion." The carols were traditional, not part of an agenda.

"The Lemon Test fully supports our side," concluded one standing attorney.

Arguments end and Supreme Court justices head to the school hallway for deliberations. They trail back in, all eyes glued on them, and take their seats. The court, announces the chief justice, has reached a verdict. The vote: 5-2 in favor of the school district.

The vote on the AP+ class? A+. The students have not only mastered complicated legal material, they've put it to good use, engaged in it deeply, and, in the process, they've gotten a real taste of the ambiguities involved in judicial proceedings. Confesses one student lawyer, who represented a side he disagreed with: "The argument that if you say something a lot, it stops being religious is ridiculous. But it really helped us out a lot."

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