Daddy said that what money we have will go to buy toys for the little kids. That’s OK, I don’t mind.

Neil lay back on his couch and wiped his eyes.

He remembered Carmen’s voice the first day they had looked at his students’ folders. Carmen had told him about Rosa. Then she had passed him Stephanie’s folder, and had said, “This is Rosa’s competition. She will take all your time if you let yourself be seduced by success. Stephanie will sound smart because she had mastered English; Rosa will sound stupid because she has not.

“The Stephanies of this world always get more than their fair share.”

He thought about them for a long time. He loved them both, not merely in a vague way as he did all his students, but intensely and personally because they had both come early to his attention and he knew them well. Stephanie knew her own worth; her parents had taught it to her early. But Rosa was one of the meek ones. She desperately needed for someone to hold her, and tell her she was good and pure and valuable.

He could not.

Even if the shadow of Alice Hamilton’s accusation had not hung over him, he still could not have touched Rosa, or any of his girls. Carmen could and did, Fiona did when she was so inclined, Pearl mothered them all, and students came from everywhere to be hugged by Donna Clementi. But no student ventured near Glen Ulrich; and Tom Wright, young and friendly as he was, kept them at arm’s length.

Women teachers can hug and touch. It is expected of them. It is “motherly”. But let a man teacher touch his girls and he is a lecher; let him touch his boys and he is a homosexual.

It isn’t fair, but it is the way of the world.

After a while, Neil went to his tape collection and put on Art Garfunkle’s first solo album. He juggled the fast forward until he found the cut he wanted, then listened to it twice through. Then he took pencil and paper and ran it through until he had the words copied down, then typed them on a ditto master. 

# # #

On his way to school the next morning, Neil stopped to buy a bag of Christmas candies. The first hour, the students read, and when they returned from their break to start the second period, Neil announced that they were going to have an early Christmas party.

That met with uniform approval, and none of it was silent. He added, “Just stay in your seats. Rafael, please give everyone a paper towel to use as a plate. I have some Christmas candy I’ll distribute as soon as Rafael has finished.”

Rafael worked quickly and a festive atmosphere filled the room. Neil waited until the boy had taken his seat again, then went around giving out candy.

He gave Duarte one piece, Sean one piece, Rafael five pieces, Laura Diaz eight pieces, Raul Fuentes six pieces, Stephanie one piece, and Oscar no candy at all; and so on, around the room.

As soon as they noticed, the fireworks began.

“Hey, you got more than I did.”

“Mr. McCrae, I only got one piece!” (This Neil ignored.)

“Get your hand out of my pile.” — “But you got more than I did.” — “So what? Its mine now.”

“Mr. McCrae . . .?”

“Hey, what’s going on?”

“That’s no fair!”

“That’s cheap!”

“Mr. McCrae,” Stephanie Hagstrom demanded, standing bolt upright beside her seat in surprise and dismay, “what are you doing? You can’t give some people more candy than others. You just can’t.”

All the children were looking at him now. He nodded sagely and said, “Why can’t I?”

“It’s not fair.” more tomorrow

Probably all of them had; a third of them remembered it well enough to raise their hands.

“Who can tell me what their previous teacher told them at evaluation time?”

Tony Caraveli thought he could remember. Neil distrusted the devilish look in his eye, but told him to go ahead.

“Make me look good!” Tony said.

The children all laughed, but it had a nervous and restrained sound. Bill Campbell did not react, which made them more nervous. Neil said, “Whoever told you that was probably joking. Who else can tell me?”

Sabrina said, “Ms. Thompson told us to just be ourselves and act like there wasn’t anyone in the room.”

“Good. That is just what I want you to do. Ignore Mr. Campbell; it won’t hurt his feelings.”

This time the children’s laughter was more relaxed, and Bill acknowledged it with a wave of his hand.

Neil read to his class for twenty minutes from The House Without a Christmas Tree. He led a discussion about the story, and from that drew the children into talking about how their families celebrated the season. Neil made notes from their discussion on the chalkboard, then told them to write a paper on Christmas in their homes.

Bill left at the end of the hour. The instant he was gone, Greg Ellis’ hand shot up. “Mr. McCrae,” he demanded in honest concern, “how can you stand that?”

Neil had to grin. “Greg, I stand that for exactly the same reason you take math tests. Because I have to. But, believe me, it’s no fun!”

When he checked his mailbox at noon, there was a neatly hand written summary of Bill Campbell’s evaluation. At the bottom, he had written, “Generally a good lesson. Next time, I want to hear the children read!”

Neil thought, You just think you do!

# # #

Neil’s lesson plan had been worthwhile but unexceptional. He had not intended for it to be earth shaking, but when he sat at home that night reading the papers, he found that he had cut close to the bone.

Casey Kruger wrote:

We don’t hav Christmas at our house.  My parents say that it is a peagan rittul.  Jesus was born in a stabul and din’t have any presents, so we don’t have any present either.  I wish we did.

I would really like to have a real Christmas this year.

Lauren Turner wrote:

Every year we go to my granmas house for christmas.  she has a great big living room where we all put our presents.  I get presents from my mom and dad but nobody else gives them to me.  I mean I get presents, but my brother always gets twice as many and they are always neater than mine and i don’t think its fair ! ! ! !

Oscar Teixeira wrote:

My Dad gets me chemistry sets and sport shirts and ties and last year he got me a calculator.  What I really want is a baseball mitt and a football.

Stephanie Hagstrom’s paper was well written, in beautiful handwriting, and decorated with candy canes in all four corners.  She detailed what presents she got last year, told how happy she was to have Christmas with her parents, and told what she expected to get this year.

Rosa Alvarez’s paper was not so well written, although it showed great progress for her. It said:

This year I don’t think we will have much of a Chirstmas because my Daddy has lost his job and Mommy’s job at the bank doesn’t give us much money. My Oldest brother has gone back to Mexico, but Daddy said that what money we have will go to buy toys for the little kids. That’s OK, I don’t mind.

more tomorrow

Evaluation

Things rolled smoothly through November. Once Carmen decided that she did not hate Neil on sight, their relationship blossomed. They saw a good deal of each other after school, and at least once a week they went dancing or to a movie. Neil still felt the same fire he had felt at their first meeting, and she clearly had some of the same feelings, but there was something missing. They were physically attracted to each other, but not intimate; they were friendly, but not yet friends. Some barrier still stood between them. Neil had no idea what it was, and if Carmen knew, she was not telling.

Tony Caraveli got in trouble in Glen Ulrich’s class and was suspended for three days. Duarte Zavala and Sean Kelly lived in a constant state of non-violent cold war. Neil’s other minor trouble makers got warnings and an occasional detention, but, overall, things had settled down for the winter. They all knew each other now. Everyone knew where the boundaries were and accepted them. Spring would shake things up again, but for now there was a season of peace.

November was a prime month. Everything had settled into a routine, and the children did their work more willingly than they ever had; or ever would again.

They were growing fast. Even in the few months he had been there, Neil had seen a change in their bodies and in their behavior. A few of them had lost the baby-fat look that had characterized them at the beginning of the year. Hormones were beginning to kick in. By the end of the year, they would be a whole new breed, with new interests, a new outlook, and new problems.

# # #

Near the end of November, Neil found a letter in his school mailbox. It informed him that since he was a first year teacher, a formal evaluation of his teaching techniques would take place during December. He was invited to submit the two dates he preferred to be evaluated, and was informed that there would be an additional three unannounced visits.

Carmen was standing beside him when he read it. He passed it to her and made a face. “I hate evaluations,” he said.

She smiled in commiseration. “We all do.”

“Yes, but we aren’t all leveling our students behind the superintendent’s back.”

“True.”

There are few things more nerve racking to teachers than evaluations. First of all, they are subjective. If the teacher shares the same philosophy as the evaluator, it is hard to get a bad rating; if they are at odds over what should be taking place in the classroom, a bad rating is almost guaranteed. Second, much of any day’s teaching depends on luck. If the children are in a good mood, motivated, and if the day’s lesson happens to be interesting, they will make the teacher look good. But if the day’s lesson is inherently dull — and not everything worth learning is necessarily fun to learn — then they will make the teacher look bad no matter how well he prepares and delivers his lesson.

Neil wanted to get the evaluations over with, so he invited Bill Campbell in for the morning of the first of December.

On the appointed day Bill came earlier than Neil had expected and sat down before the tardy bell had rung. The more mature students tried to look at him without seeming to do so. The others just stared. Neil rapped the desk for attention and took roll. Then he said, “I had intended to tell you today that Mr. Campbell would be coming by for evaluations, but he has gotten here sooner than I had expected. How many of you have been through these teacher evaluations before?” more tomorrow

It was depressing, and the other papers were worse. Much worse.

The grammar and spelling was bad enough, but the images were horrid. Neil had expected ghoulies and ghosties and things that go bump in the night. What he got was torture and dismemberment. Given the movies that kids watch, it should not have shocked him, but it did. Neil carried the same images of violence in his own head. Television assured that. But in Neil, that violence lay over a bedrock foundation of images of kindness and decency, the heritage of his own youth. These violent images were all today’s children had to think and feel with.

He drove home, deeply depressed, and nothing would have pleased him more than to lock his door against the world. But evening was coming on and the pack was out, moving from house to house to sweetly extort their bags of loot.

Neil arranged the bowl of candies near the door and turned on the shower. Before he could undress, the first of night’s legions arrived. He fed a pirate and a sheeted ghost, then went back toward the shower. He never made it; the doorbell stopped him short. Three tries later, he managed to get far enough to turn the shower off, and for an hour he fed the ghoulies. By eight-thirty, the crowd had tapered off and Neil was almost out of candy. He turned out all the lights and sat in the darkened room, hoping the world would just go away. It did not. Ten minutes later, there was a ringing at his doorbell. He ignored it, but it rang again. And again.

Finally, he went to the door. Again he was confronted by masked faces, that shouted, “Trick or treat!” He fished out the last of his candy and distributed it, trying to smile, and then said, “That’s it. I’m out of goodies.”

The crew giggled and nudged each other. Spiderman said, “Don’t you know who we are?”

He had not expected to know any of his callers. He was too many miles from Kiernan School for any of his students to come to his apartment, and he didn’t know any of the local kids. Then Cinderella slipped off her domino mask and Linda Muir stared up at him, laughing. The other masks came off of Shelly Gibson, Stephanie Hagstrom, and Larry Whitlock. Neil leaned down to look closely at the Incredible Hulk’s green painted face and saw that it was Sean Kelly.

Fiona Kelly was waving from the parking lot. Her station wagon was standing with all its doors open. Neil grinned and waved back.

“It wouldn’t have been Halloween if we hadn’t come to see you,” Stephanie said.

Linda added, “That was a great story today. Bump, BUMP.  Bump, BUMP!” She grabbed her chest as if to stop her heart from pounding so loudly.

They filed down the steps, pushing at each other and giggling. Neil waved one last time to Fiona after she had herded them back into the car, then turned to his delayed shower feeling quite human again. more Monday

Neil smiled a wooden smile as story after story followed the same pattern. The children did not know how to come to an ending. They wrote themselves into corners. Half of the stories ended when someone woke up. The rest of the students used Hemingway’s habitual solution and killed off their main character. The stories all seemed to come from the horror movies the kids watched. Neil could not quite be sure, since he did not watch those kind of movies himself, but the kids seemed to recognize movie scenes as they were repeated in the stories. 

All in all, they were a sad batch of tales. Oscar’s was by far the best. Elanor Romero’s was more typical.

It was Halloween night. Elanor and Lauren went out to trick and treat, and they were going down the street, and it was dark, and they suddenly came to an old house. It was dark inside and they went to the door and Frankenstein opened the door. They screamed and ran home.

When the bell finally rang, it was more of a relief to Neil than to the kids who had feared to read.

# # #

Afternoon was a repeat of morning. His afternoon class had already heard that he was going to read a scary story to them, so it did not have quite the effect that it had had in the morning. The kids complained less about having to read aloud. They had already heard about that, too.

None of the stories were up to Oscar Teixeira’s standards. Most of them were more like Elanor Romero’s. One in particular story sent cold chills up Neil’s spine. Lisa Cobb had written:

One night three girls went out trick-or-treating and two of them got lost. The other one went to this old house and went in. It was dark and she was all alone. She walked down this long hallway to a room and it was a bedroom. She was all alone there when someone came out of the closet and pushed her down. She tried to scream, but he had his hand over her mouth and she couldn’t do anything.

Then she woke up.

Neil thought, Please, God, let her be remembering a movie, and not a scene from her own life.

# # #

Neil stayed after school to correct the Halloween stories. He took Oscar’s first. It had sounded good when Oscar read it, but on paper it was a mess.

It was Hlloween night.  Three boys named Oscar, Richard, and Rafael were going out trick-or-treating.  The had costumes on.  Oscar was dressedlike Dracula.  Richard was dressed lik gostbusters.  rafael had on a Freddie Kruger mask  He also had popsickle sticks taped to his fingers to look like long claws.

they went to this first haouse and got candy.  Then they went to thi second haouse and got more candy  And some gum.  they went to this thrd house and nobody was home, so Rafaelsaid, “Let’s eg it.”  “We dont’ hive any egs, dummy,’; Richard said,  Well maybe their are som chickens in that little house oaut back,” Oscar said

they all went out to the back weher there ws this old shack.  Ricard said he could heer chikens, but Rafeael said he was Nuts.  The Oscar found a nest with 3 egs in it undder a rose bush. 

“You can’t eg a house with only three egs, Richard said,.  But Rafael threw his anyway.  It smashed against the front door and ran down the front door like slime.  Richard yelled, “I’ve been slimed and held his throat.  Rafeal thought that was pretty funny.  Then richard threw his eg and it ran down th front the same way.  Then Oscar decided to throw his eg againt the window, but the window broke and the boys decided to runaway.  But before they could turn around a big tall dark guy said, What do you think youre doing.

What’s it to you Oscar yealled, and they all ran away. more tomorrow

================

ASIDE: If you think I’m making up the quality of a good paper in a low performing sixth grade, in California, in the late eighties — I wish I were. SL

Neil’s eyes swept the room. Duarte, Oscar, Sean, Stephanie, even Tanya. Those students he knew fairly well. He knew Tasmeen’s history and she had done nothing out of character for the person he assumed her to be, but she was too quiet, too enclosed, for him to honestly say he knew her.

Casey, Larry, Lauren, and Linda. They were all transparently easy to know. Olivia, Rafael, and Flavio were more restrained, but he had made the effort to reach out to them, and could say that he knew them. Tony he knew well, though they had an antagonistic relationship.

If they are smart or friendly, I know them. If they are notably ill behaved or stupid, I know them. But if they are ordinary, they remain strangers to me.

That was a problem to be worked on.

Oscar raised his hand and said, “I’m done.”

“Fine. Find something to read or draw quietly until everyone else is finished.”

“Can I read mine now?”

“When everyone is finished, Oscar.”

That took a while. For most of the students, most of the time, writing was a weary, difficult business. When the bell rang at the end of the second period, Neil announced that they would have no more time. Students would begin reading as soon as they came back.

As he walked out, Tony muttered, “Maybe I just won’t come back.”

Of course, he did.

When the children returned, Neil let them volunteer to read, knowing that he would not get to them all that hour. It was a trick, but not an unkind one. Those who most hated the idea of reading to the class would have to sweat out a sure knowledge that they had to read, only to be given a reprieve when Neil ran out of time. The next time, he would call on them first, before they had time to sweat.

Six hands went up immediately. Neil let Oscar read first since he had been the first to finish. He carried his paper to the front of the room and leaned back against the chalkboard. Richard Lujan, who was Oscar’s friend, whispered, “This will be good.”

It was Halloween night. Three boys named Oscar, Richard, and Rafael were going out trick-or-treating. They had costumes on. Oscar was dressed like Dracula. Richard was dressed like Ghostbusters. Rafael had on a Freddie Kruger mask. He also had popsickle sticks taped to his fingers to look like long claws.

They went to this first house and got candy. Then they went to this second house and got more candy and some gum. They went to this third house and nobody was home, so Rafael said, “Let’s egg it.”

“We don’t have any eggs, Dummy,” Richard said.

“Well, maybe there are some chickens in that little house out back,” Oscar said.

They all went out to the back where there was this old shack. Richard said he could hear chickens, but Rafael said he was nuts. Then Oscar found a nest with three eggs in it under a rose bush. 

“You can’t egg a house with only three eggs,” Richard said. But Rafael threw his anyway. It smashed against the front door and ran down the front door like slime. Richard yelled, “I’ve been slimed,” and held his throat. Rafael thought that was pretty funny. Then Richard threw his egg and it ran down the front door the same way.

Then Oscar decided to throw his egg against the window, but the window broke and the boys decided to run away. But before they could turn around a big, tall, dark guy said, “What do you think you’re doing?”

“What’s it to you?” Oscar yelled, and they all ran away.

All the kids thought that was great. Rafael wanted to go next. He had taken Neil’s advice about making up his own Freddie Kruger — sort of. His villain was named Sammy Kruger. Otherwise, Neil could see no difference from the original. more tomorrow