Nonfiction
by
Don Plansky
Ms. Whiting is bestowing gifts today!
I don’t know which one to pick: a weirdly colored, crazily bouncing, tiny rubber ball, or, OH BOY, what about that neat ring you can load up with water and use to squirt people?
Ms. Whiting is the substitute teacher for Mr. Finn’s third-graders at Washington Elementary in Berkeley. Her daughter just finished third grade with the regular teacher, Mr. Finn. Ms. Whiting likes Mr. Finn and is happy to help out when he can’t come to school.
As the kids line up to choose one of the two gifts just before the end of the school day, Ms. Whiting says, “If you pick a crazy bouncy ball, be careful, because they are easy to lose.”
Then she shows us how the squirt rings work.
“Make sure you don’t squirt people in the eyes and make sure they can take a joke,” she cautions.
I want to get in line to get one of those two great gifts, but then I remember. Ah, oh, I’m 65 years old, not 8 or 9. I’m supposed to be their tutor, not one of their playmates. I guess I’d better not get in line for a present.
So I just watch, a little sad, as the kids line up for their toys.
Tamara picks out a ring, scurries to the sink, and fills the trick ring with water.
Tamara joined our class after the other kids. Her family is from Mexico. She speaks and writes in Spanish, knows some French, and is learning English very fast. Poor Mr. Don! He only knows English.
The other day Tamara and I read Dr. Seuss’s The Cat in the Hat. She read the story in Spanish on the page on the left and I read the story in English on the page on the right.
“I don’t like that uptight, complaining, talking fish!”
I told her even though I knew from Mr. Finn’s discussion about writing that every good story needs an antagonist. “Why doesn’t that fish let the Cat in the Hat have fun with Sally and her brother?”
Tamara nodded. She didn’t like that crummy fish either.
Evan is a kid in Mr. Finn’s class who is always asking me to spell out big words like “NEFARIOUSLY,” and, when I do,
N E F A R I O U S L Y, asks, “Are you sure you spelled it right?”
“I think so.”
Evan is looking for something on the floor. I see the bouncy ball he picked out as his present—and already lost—rolling on the floor. I pick it up and hand it to him.
When Ms. Whiting turns her head, B.J. grabs a fistful of toys out of the gift box.
When she turns around, she asks him, “Did you take more than one gift?”
“Yes,” he admits, putting two rings and three bouncy balls back into the box.
“Because you were honest,” Ms. Whiting tells him, “you can keep just one. Okay?”
“Okay.”
When I try to help B.J. with his writing, he waves me away. He waved me away earlier today as I approached his desk. He’s always waving me away.
After all the kids have picked out one of the presents, I follow them outside as the school day ends. I come up to Analisa, and ask her, “Which gift did you choose?”
“Go away!” she says. She’s always telling me to go away. Just like B.J. I’m not sure why she doesn’t like me, especially since she’s one of the kids I give a stick of sugarless gum to after class.
One day when we were reading together Analisa told me she wanted to light me up with a torch. “That’s not very nice,” I said. “And what would you tell me when I was dying?”
She looked me directly in the eye, smiled, daintily fluttered the fingers of her left hand, and answered, “good-bye.”
As I depart from Analisa, Liam comes up to me and asks if I have gum today.
“Okay, but don’t tell the other kids,” I say, handing him a cinnamon stick. He often seeks me out, sometimes to read with me, but quite often to pull off my badge and put it on himself. But when I say, “You know, now you’ll have to tutor me,” he gives it back.
As the kids make their way across the schoolyard towards their friends and waiting parents, I come over to Tamara who snagged a pink ring out of the gift box. It fits nicely on her index finger. I hunch over to get a better look, my eyes inches from the ring, and say, “That’s a beautiful ring!” Tamara squirts me directly in the eyes.
“Oh, no, I can’t believe I fell for the old fake ring trick!”
Bella sidles up along on my right, beaming broadly at my silliness. She has to get up close to see since she’s legally blind. Ms. Kathy works with her in braille. When Mr. Finn reads a story with pictures to the kids on the carpeted floor, he often places a picture inches from her face so she can see it.
Meanwhile, as I continue to clear my eyes of water, Zula, who I defeated in tetherball earlier today with a series of virtuosic volleys, is still chuckling at my mishap. Zula, Tamara and Cybella keep a keen lookout for me so I can join them in their tetherball game before the end of recess.
Unlike B.J. and Analisa, Cybella likes working with me. Her reading has definitely improved, so, just maybe, I’m making progress.
Cybella and Bella are great friends. The three of us have been talking about starting our own high-end clothing line. I’ve pointed out to Cybella that Bella’s name is inside her own name and that we could use this curious fact to make a really neat sign for our clothing store. Sadly, this is the only financial planning Mr. Don has done for his old age.
As I make my way across the crowded area outside the school where teachers, kids and parents are all milling around, Ahva comes over to me.
“Can I have some gum?”
“Okay, but we’ll have to be careful. There are a lot of people around.”
I let her slip in behind me, then put a stick of gum in my left hand. I discreetly twist my arm behind my back, disguising this devilishly clever maneuver by casually gazing into the sky in the opposite direction. As Ahva plucks the tasty morsel and runs off to join her friends, Mr. Don begins to wonder whether one day he might be replaced by a gumball machine.
March 2016—revised May 2017
Note: Don has been a literacy tutor for Experience Corps Bay Area for the past few years.
I don’t know which one to pick: a weirdly colored, crazily bouncing, tiny rubber ball, or, OH BOY, what about that neat ring you can load up with water and use to squirt people?
Ms. Whiting is the substitute teacher for Mr. Finn’s third-graders at Washington Elementary in Berkeley. Her daughter just finished third grade with the regular teacher, Mr. Finn. Ms. Whiting likes Mr. Finn and is happy to help out when he can’t come to school.
As the kids line up to choose one of the two gifts just before the end of the school day, Ms. Whiting says, “If you pick a crazy bouncy ball, be careful, because they are easy to lose.”
Then she shows us how the squirt rings work.
“Make sure you don’t squirt people in the eyes and make sure they can take a joke,” she cautions.
I want to get in line to get one of those two great gifts, but then I remember. Ah, oh, I’m 65 years old, not 8 or 9. I’m supposed to be their tutor, not one of their playmates. I guess I’d better not get in line for a present.
So I just watch, a little sad, as the kids line up for their toys.
Tamara picks out a ring, scurries to the sink, and fills the trick ring with water.
Tamara joined our class after the other kids. Her family is from Mexico. She speaks and writes in Spanish, knows some French, and is learning English very fast. Poor Mr. Don! He only knows English.
The other day Tamara and I read Dr. Seuss’s The Cat in the Hat. She read the story in Spanish on the page on the left and I read the story in English on the page on the right.
“I don’t like that uptight, complaining, talking fish!”
I told her even though I knew from Mr. Finn’s discussion about writing that every good story needs an antagonist. “Why doesn’t that fish let the Cat in the Hat have fun with Sally and her brother?”
Tamara nodded. She didn’t like that crummy fish either.
Evan is a kid in Mr. Finn’s class who is always asking me to spell out big words like “NEFARIOUSLY,” and, when I do,
N E F A R I O U S L Y, asks, “Are you sure you spelled it right?”
“I think so.”
Evan is looking for something on the floor. I see the bouncy ball he picked out as his present—and already lost—rolling on the floor. I pick it up and hand it to him.
When Ms. Whiting turns her head, B.J. grabs a fistful of toys out of the gift box.
When she turns around, she asks him, “Did you take more than one gift?”
“Yes,” he admits, putting two rings and three bouncy balls back into the box.
“Because you were honest,” Ms. Whiting tells him, “you can keep just one. Okay?”
“Okay.”
When I try to help B.J. with his writing, he waves me away. He waved me away earlier today as I approached his desk. He’s always waving me away.
After all the kids have picked out one of the presents, I follow them outside as the school day ends. I come up to Analisa, and ask her, “Which gift did you choose?”
“Go away!” she says. She’s always telling me to go away. Just like B.J. I’m not sure why she doesn’t like me, especially since she’s one of the kids I give a stick of sugarless gum to after class.
One day when we were reading together Analisa told me she wanted to light me up with a torch. “That’s not very nice,” I said. “And what would you tell me when I was dying?”
She looked me directly in the eye, smiled, daintily fluttered the fingers of her left hand, and answered, “good-bye.”
As I depart from Analisa, Liam comes up to me and asks if I have gum today.
“Okay, but don’t tell the other kids,” I say, handing him a cinnamon stick. He often seeks me out, sometimes to read with me, but quite often to pull off my badge and put it on himself. But when I say, “You know, now you’ll have to tutor me,” he gives it back.
As the kids make their way across the schoolyard towards their friends and waiting parents, I come over to Tamara who snagged a pink ring out of the gift box. It fits nicely on her index finger. I hunch over to get a better look, my eyes inches from the ring, and say, “That’s a beautiful ring!” Tamara squirts me directly in the eyes.
“Oh, no, I can’t believe I fell for the old fake ring trick!”
Bella sidles up along on my right, beaming broadly at my silliness. She has to get up close to see since she’s legally blind. Ms. Kathy works with her in braille. When Mr. Finn reads a story with pictures to the kids on the carpeted floor, he often places a picture inches from her face so she can see it.
Meanwhile, as I continue to clear my eyes of water, Zula, who I defeated in tetherball earlier today with a series of virtuosic volleys, is still chuckling at my mishap. Zula, Tamara and Cybella keep a keen lookout for me so I can join them in their tetherball game before the end of recess.
Unlike B.J. and Analisa, Cybella likes working with me. Her reading has definitely improved, so, just maybe, I’m making progress.
Cybella and Bella are great friends. The three of us have been talking about starting our own high-end clothing line. I’ve pointed out to Cybella that Bella’s name is inside her own name and that we could use this curious fact to make a really neat sign for our clothing store. Sadly, this is the only financial planning Mr. Don has done for his old age.
As I make my way across the crowded area outside the school where teachers, kids and parents are all milling around, Ahva comes over to me.
“Can I have some gum?”
“Okay, but we’ll have to be careful. There are a lot of people around.”
I let her slip in behind me, then put a stick of gum in my left hand. I discreetly twist my arm behind my back, disguising this devilishly clever maneuver by casually gazing into the sky in the opposite direction. As Ahva plucks the tasty morsel and runs off to join her friends, Mr. Don begins to wonder whether one day he might be replaced by a gumball machine.
March 2016—revised May 2017
Note: Don has been a literacy tutor for Experience Corps Bay Area for the past few years.
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