A Pretty Bad Nightmare.

Day 37

So much stock is put into our worst nightmares and yet they rarely come true. We really should be worrying about our lesser nightmares, the horrors that don’t signify the end of the world, but come tortuously close to the edge of the feeling of Armageddon. These night mares can and often do occur. Because really, when are you going to give a speech to 6 billion people? Never, that’s Obama’s job. When are you going to fall into a pit of tarantulas? Never, just don’t do Survivor. When are you going to get lost in a circus full of clowns? Never, no one goes anymore, get scared on youtube. And really, when are you going to get eaten by a shark? Never, just don’t look like a seal while you surf. But when are you going to get your toe run over by a car? Probably often if you are the impatient pedestrian going before the green man says WALK. When are you going to try and dye your hair the epic platinum on the box and have it actually turn out orange? It’ll probably happen if you’re also making brownies and chatting at the same time and not reading the directions. And when are you going to be given a science book in Spanish and asked, in front of the class, to teach Earth Science, on the spot, cold. Probably, if you were me today, it happened.

I’d been waiting since my first day for Carmen to actually show up for Science with the rudest, loudest, most annoying, most disrespectful, most un-bi-lingual 4th grade class. Every Tuesday at 12 she had something else to do besides teach and so I’ve never actually been able to team-teach science with her. The grand idea was that I would teach the concepts in English as Carmen taught them in Spanish. Somehow the 4th graders missed the boat on bi-lingual education and don’t know anything. So I would merely provide beginner words. But Carmen never came, so I never met the class, got the book or figured out what the hell we might be doing. Until today. She decided to come. I thought, “Finally!! We get to teach science!” I usually really like Carmen, she’s independent, supremely assertive (in the way most Spanish women are), well-spoken (if not out-spoken at times) and always cruelly fashionable. She’s like the cool girl in high school I never dared to wish to be because that was an impossible dream, but always wanted to be near because she was fascinating, in being so popular and knowing it. So of course, I’m all smiles because I get to teach with one of the coolest teachers in school. She though, is less exuberant. She pulls me aside and says, “Would it bother you to have me sit over here and grade notebooks?” I say of course not, BUT…..I thought we were teaching science together, in Spanish and English. She says, ‘yes yes’ and hands me their science book and turns it to page 41, telling me they just learned parts of the flower and then walks away to the back of class to grade papers. And 26 pairs of eyes are staring up at me as she says to them “Now listen to Senorita Katie. She’s going to teach you now” and my eyes dart to the page in escape, roving the pictures, the titles, the labels, the diagrams, the readings, the questions, the subtitles – ALL IN SPANISH! No this was not the end of the world, but I was staring at the picture of a flower wondering a) what the heck is a sépalo? And b) how the hell do I say it in English? As hard as I was trying to think of productive things to say and do all my mind wanted to repeat was “This is terrible. This is terrible. OH MY GOD.” I had no idea. So I had them draw flowers. And the sun. and clouds. And dirt. And we labeled the parts in English, or at least the parts I thought were deserving of being labeled (Not sépalo for sure…simpler things like roots, leaves, petals. Yep, actually that’s it..) All the students were watching me scramble, floundering helplessly, trying to say words like “dioxido de carbono” for the first time in my life, sounding like a blender grinding ice cubes. And Carmen continued to grade. If I hadn’t been able to see her ears in plain view I could have sworn she had an ipod putting her light years away mentally. Another long quiet moment began to set in and I zipped through pages looking for anything to talk about that I could a) actually pronounce and not sound like a kindergartener with a mouth full of Peanut Butter and b) thought wouldn’t bore them to further death. So I saw a section on seeds with pictures of fruits and veggies. And then I remember the technique of master Bull Shit- talk about what you have to talk about without actually talking about it. So we were supposed to talk about photosynthesis but instead we named our favorite fruits. And then we named our favorite vegetables. And then we talked about different types of nuts. And during this third round of BS, the king of interruptions and reigning champion of uncouthness did not raise his hand but merely shouted to me “I have to copy them all??” And so I repeated to him what I had already said twice for the previous sections. No, you need only copy at least 10 of the 15. And he started to whine about his hand being tired. I began to erase the board for the next part and he screamed that he wasn’t done. He only had 3 written down. Now he’d never get 10. And he didn’t want to write 10 anyways, did he really have to?? That’s when I closed my book, approached him and with the coolest passion, so fiery it could have singed his faux-hawk down to the scalp and I let fly one of my best, professionally suave and disguised chastisements, smiling like a fox having cornered a fat hen, I said, ‘Israel, as I’ve said before, I would like everyone to copy at least 10 if they don’t have the stamina to copy all 15 words on the board. Why else would I be here to teach English, certainly not just to talk to myself, right? But if you wish to be the laziest boy in the class and learn nothing, that is your choice. I certainly won’t cry when you haven’t learned English because you don’t care to try. And for your disrespect I shall repeat nothing.” Silence. Finally, he was quiet and that little hand was flying across the page. I turned back to the board until the steam had dissipated from my face. Then I turned back around and said, “Ok, now let’s learn how to say all of these words you’ve hopefully written down.”

Hours later I had stopped sending daggers to Carmen with my stare. I guess, I’m grateful for her making me scrappy, giving me a chance to see how well I think on my feet. But if she dares try to teach anything next week….ooooooohhhhh….i’ll……

And honestly, who out there could actually tell me the parts of a flower??? Just smell them damn it.

Love love love.