I find that I want to write about this little elementary school miles from nowhere way out amidst the fields of purple phlox and far away from my usual world of soccer moms and multitasking. I have learned so much this year about what America is right now. I have come to know these sixteen good and patient children. I know which of them whines, which one sulks, which one is a "handful", which one never takes a bath, which ones have parents who care about them. I see how the school works. I love Annette in the office who is so kind and helpful to all parents, and the cafeteria ladies who run lunch with an iron hand in a velvet glove. I love the ladies who run the impoverished media center to the best of their abilities.
Today I brought my tote bag full of just-picked beans and pea pods from our garden and a dip made of non-fat organic yogurt with just a dab of mayonnaise and ketchup. I saved this for later because we had a 'science' project to do in which the kids put cut out photos of various animals and placed them on large pieces of construction paper according to whether they were reptiles, mammals, fish, and so on. They had never heard of arachnids. But it was fun for all. In some of the National Geographic magazines we perused there were pictures of naked people, and that made quite a stir. Nasty! Some of the little girls sashayed slowly around, carefully placing their photos. Other kids went right to business. Finally, we had all the pictures placed in their correct categories. Then each child had a chance to glue down photos of a phylum of their choice. A lot of kids wanted to put photos of the great white shark, tarantulas, and panthers in one category (scary things?). But we persevered in the scientific mode, though the emotional classification might be more important.
When all the glued and cut out animals were done and hung on the board, we made a circle on the rug. I showed them the green beans. Not one of them had ever seen such a thing before. We looked at the pea pods and split a few open. I popped them into the mouths of the nearest kids. Then the kids went to their seats and I distributed handfuls of beans and pea pods and tomatoes along with the dip. The kids were entranced, loved the vegetables, but not the tomato skins. Nothing was left! "Miss Molly, can I have the recipe?" So I wrote it out and copied it for any child who wanted it.
When we go to lunch, both my hands are held by kids who want to tell me about their grandmother or their brother, or want me to help them check for spiders who may be lurking in the corridor. They know they should be totally quiet but this is impossible for these good and patient children.
In the teachers' lunch room where I had taken the pitiful lunch provided to volunteers, I am always surprised that the staff there never engages in any serious pedagogical conversation. This day was no different. One woman, a kindergarten aide, as usual, launches her monologue about her health and the problems with the Veterans Administration of her husband, a Viet Nam Vet. There are maybe six of us there. The woman goes on about what are terrible problems not being addressed. I try to steer the conversation to the more global concerns of our American failure to deal with wounded veterans of wars and how this issue is becoming so much more intense now with Iraq. I remark that we have lately come to know that the facilities at Walter Reed and others are barely adequate. Everyone continues trying to eat the dried carrots and they do not comment. I say that I believe it is particularly hard now since we have an all volunteer fighting force. I ask the woman if her husband had been drafted into the Viet Nam war. He was a volunteer, as it turns out.
One teacher there looks up and asks, "Aren't our troops drafted?" My jaw drops. Where have you been, woman? This woman teaches our kids. What is she thinking or reading? I try to explain. Again, I have bitten off more than I can chew. Aargh!
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