the other moments today

1. New kid. He's been beat down already, and started off (I always meet the new kids outside so they can tell me a little about themselves before they enter the full room) by telling me his failure days - at all the district high schools - are over. I asked if this is the right class for him, and I said that if I thought it wasn't that we'd get him where he needs to be within a couple of weeks when his records come, etc. etc. I had him write an essay, which the other kids were typing.

And Gail, if you're reading, um, I'm all about the 4-squares now (I changed them a little). Once a kid does one of those, they're good to go. So this kid, he does a 4-square about his girlfriend, and I say, "Write the essay now," and his homies are trying to help him, and his eyes get big, and he says, "A 5-paragraph essay?" And I say, "Look vato [OK, I didn't say vato], you already did all the work. All you have to do now is put it together." And I helped him just a little with spelling and he finished it all and he was damn proud.

And when he left, he stayed a minute, and he shook my hand and said how happy he is to meet me.

2. Octavio was leaning back in the chair. [I'm taking him back to the comprehensive high school on Friday - I'm actually driving him there and meeting with the counselor with him to make sure he doesn't get shafted. (He actually never should have been at our school because of his limited English - he was dumped there.)]

So I said, "Hey, Octavio! Put the chair down on the floor!"

And then I used my new strategy. I've been telling the kids to practice their English more, and to limit their Spanish to when they really need to (I only have one class where it's the problem, and it's mostly a problem with Octavio, who hasn't learned English in five years because his homies only speak Spanish around him, limiting his learning). Also, when they speak Spanish they're often pretty damn inappropriate with the swearing and fighting words and all that - and I don't catch them all. But they blow me off and speak it all the time except to me. So my new strategy? I speak to them in Spanish - but BAD Spanish - with a thick accent and deliberate grammatical mistakes that make us all laugh. And then, when they're trying to get away with something - they're whispering some plan in the corner in Spanish I happen to hear - I rip out something perfect in Spanish that makes them go, "Oh, shit, we can't get away with nothing." I keep 'em on their toes.

So this strategy was, "La silla. El piso. Como se dice?"

Eduardo, who was trying to help Octavio edit an essay (trust me, Octavio's English writing has improved, which is all I can say), said, "Say 'tengo'."

Tengo? What? Octavio, bless his little heart, said, "Pon la silla en el piso" (or whatever is actually correct). But Eduardo kept saying, "Say 'tengo'." Clearly he wanted to set me up.

Tengo? OK, I'll bite. "Say 'tengo la'." Then I start to get it. "Say 'tengo la camisa negra'."

And the moment was so ripe. I burst into full song and sang it loud and proud. When the laughter subsided I realized I hadn't had to yell at anybody all day. Except about the chair. But that led me to get to sing.

3. OK, I got stood up at racquetball, then I got a parking ticket while being stood up, and then doors to buildings I needed to get into were locked, and there were no paper towels in the restroom. Thank the universe I didn't get into some horrible accident, because the stars were clearly out of alignment for me tonight.