And Brenda Married Me

Chapter 7
Chapter 7

I walked back to class, and sat down at my desk. Tim glanced at me.

"Tell you later," I said, " And it’s good news."

The day went downhill from there. My science teacher knew the subject, and well, but he was just so boring. I got into trouble again in history. This was supposed to be American History, but somehow we started with Columbus. I mean, the history book panned him, and big time, for all his crimes against the native peoples.

"Now, who wants to tell me what they think of this?"

I raised my hand, and everyone kept quiet.

"Yes?"

"Mrs. Howard. Hi, I’m Simon, and I think that book is really off."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I mean this is history, after all, and I know everything has to be so politically correct, but it really isn’t fair to judge a man of the sixteenth century out of context like that. It’s never right to try and take someone like Columbus out of his own time and place.

"Okay, so you have old Chris, there, who is a God fearing...."

"You can’t say that in school."

I blushed. "Sorry. So he’s a Deity fearing, loyal subject of the Spanish Crown. By his standards, and the standards of his time, he did the right thing. Yes, it was wrong, but not for them. There he was, certain he had found China, and India. It wasn’t his fault that there were two great big continents in the way.

"So, he found all this gold, and all those native people that were, to his point of view, nothing but heathens and savages. He did his duty to King and country, and did what every loyal Spaniard did after that. He’s all, ’I found this land, and everything in it is mine. Pack up all that yellow metal for us, and get ready because you are all Spaniards now.’"

"Yes, but he was responsible for hundreds of deaths."

"I know, but History is all about people killing other people, right? I mean, Alexander conquered the world, and killed off hundreds of people, and they called him ’The Great’. Rome conquered the world, and Caesar killed off hundreds of people. The Visigoths conquered Rome, and killed off hundreds of people. And on and on. Right?"

"Well, yes."

"So, Columbus was following long established historical traditions. I came, I saw and I conquered."

"Yes, but the book says...."

"We’re talking history, not rocket science. I mean, history is only a matter of opinion when we’re talking about what happened centuries ago. The people that wrote that book weren’t there to see what happened for themselves. I wanted to point out that there are all sorts of opinions on Columbus, and the book didn’t even mention the part where Columbus was the first person to actually believe the world was round and act on it.

"Talk about a progressive thinker. The whole world told him that he would just fall over the edge of the world, and he proved the whole world wrong. I think they should have put that in there, and not just call him ’evil and ’barbarous’ as they did here."

"Simon’s right," several people called out. "The book’s wrong to say all that about Columbus."

"They can say it, but they should put in other points of view, too. I think we should find a book that’s balanced rather than this."

"I didn’t ask for your opinion on the book."

"Yes, you did," several people said. "You asked him what he thought, and he told you. I think he’s better than that part you read."

"We’re having a discussion, here," Tim added. "I mean, I’ve seen a lot of movies about the conquistadors, and they were a lot worse than Columbus. Man, those guys slaughtered all those Aztecs for all that gold, and they were heroes back in Spain."

"So, what does the book say about George Washington? He was unfair to the British because he won?"

"No, we don’t actually get to that in this class."

"So this isn’t about ’American’ History, just ’Spanish’ History?"

"No, we cover some parts of American History."

"Like the Pilgrims and the Colonists at Jamestown?" I asked.

"No, we aren’t doing that part. We will be looking at the 1960’s through today."

"Why? I mean that’s one thing you hear on TV all the time, that kids don’t know anything about the American Revolution. If we’re going to study the Spanish invasion, why not move on to the Colonial Days?"

"Because the course isn’t set up like that."

"So, we go from people that barely made it across the ocean in wooden ships to the British Invasion just like that?"

"What British invasion?" a girl asked me.

"You know, all those old rock groups like the Beatles, or Herman’s Hermits."

"Shouldn’t we be learning about George Washington and Thomas Jefferson?" a boy asked.

"Yeah, so who wants to hear about the sixties? That’s my parents’ thing. What happened at Jamestown? I was in Williamsburg over the summer, but we didn’t get there."

Mrs. Howard pushed the button on her desk. "I need Mr. Donaldson, please."

"In a moment."

"There, now you can direct all of your questions to him."

A few minutes later, Mr. Donaldson walked into the room, and shook his head. He stared at me. "Simon, whatever the matter is, this time, did you start it?’

"Yes, sir." I said, and everyone laughed."

"That boy has been nothing but trouble. I was reading the chapter on Columbus, and he has to contradict everything the book said. He said it was unfair to judge a man out of the context of his time and place, but the book clearly states that Columbus was ’evil and barbarous’ for his treatment of the native peoples. He said that Columbus was a good, and loyal subject of the crown and was just doing what he was supposed to do."

Mr. Donaldson cleared his throat. "Well, actually, I can see both points of view."

"That’s what he said. He said the book should be more balanced, since history is a matter of opinion, not always facts. Then he asked about what the book said about George Washington, and we don’t cover that period in this class."

"This is American History? Why doesn’t it cover that time period?"

"That’s the way the course is set up. We do cover the

1960’s on. That’s when everyone else started asking about the American Revolution, and not the British Invasion as Simon pointed out."

"Simon?"

"What she said. "I think that book is really not fair, and I told her so, and that we should have a discussion, instead of taking everything that book says at face value, and...."

"We want to learn about Jamestown and the Pilgrims."

"Check your stocks," Mrs. Howard. "I know there are other books that do cover that."

"This is the book authorized by the School Board."

"Oh, well, in that case I will unauthorize it, and get some better books in. Is that it?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good, and keep up the good work, Simon. Your class should do very well."

As the principal left a couple of kids asked. "Simon could tell us about the Revolution, if you don’t want to, Mrs. Howard."

"No, just read your books until the end of the period."

I flipped through the book, and shook my head. What a waste of paper, I decided.

After lunch we had English next. The teacher, Mr. Graves, placed books on each desk.

"Now, who can read the first page of this book?"

"The Cat in the Hat", I thought. This wouldn’t be hard.

No one raised their hands. After a moment, he started calling on kids, who shook their heads.

I nudged Tim. "Your turn."

"I can’t read yet," he said.

"Is there anyone that can read this book?" Mr. Graves asked.

"’The Cat in the Hat’, by Dr. Seuss," I said.

Everyone looked at me.

I started to read. After a moment, I got into the book, and started using voices, and hand gestures, and I had a blast. The whole class did.

"And where did you learn how to read?" Mr. Graves asked me.

"I was home schooled, before I lost my folks."

"Oh, you’re one of those kids."

"I am?" I said and jumped on him. "I thought I was one of these kids. What kids are those?"

"Aren’t you cleaver," Mr. Graves said.

"No, I’m Simon," I said. "I didn’t want you to get the names wrong."

"And he’s us, not them," a girl said. "I don’t think any of them are in this class."

"Cassie is right. Simon’s us, not one of those kids."

Mr. Graves cleared his throat. "Every single home-schooled child is nothing but a spoiled brat that thinks he is better than everyone else."

"You mean I’m one of them? I want to be one of us, not them."

"It’s okay, Simon, you’re one of us."

"That’s a relief. See, they said it was okay, and I really think you’re making way too much of these class distinctions. You know, that’s like racial profiling when you say all of one class of kids is this, and that class is something else. See? I’m this, not that, and as far as the brat part goes, you don’t know me very well, do you."

"No, and I am dreading getting to know you. What has home schooling done for you?"

I stood up. "Okay, is there anyone in this class, anyone at all, besides me, that can read? You all said you couldn’t read the first page of Dr. Seuss, so come on, fess up, if you can read, let me know. I won’t tell."

Everyone shook their heads. "Simon," a boy in the back said. "Our parents thought we would learn in the first grade, but the first grade teacher said we would have to wait until the fifth grade."

"We want to read," several others added.

"Okay, this is a good one to start with," I said. "So, I can read, and they can’t. Looks like my Mom did a better job than the public school system did here."

"If all you count is results," he said.

"I think learning to read is important. Way important. and so are the results. They just spent four years in elementary school, without learning anything, really. You call that results?

"It’s not my fault they didn’t lean."

"No, but they weren’t taught, and that’s different. So, you have a whole class of kids that want to read, and books to teach them with. If you want, I can help."

"This isn’t a reading class. This is Compositional Skills, not reading.

"Uh, Mr. Graves. If the kids don’t know how to read, they don’t know how to write, either, so what good is teaching them compositional skills?" I asked.

"We will manage, and I don’t want to hear another word about reading, is that clear?"

"Okay, then I can help them at lunch or sometime."

"No, you will do nothing of the sort. It’s not my fault that they never learned to read."

"No one said it was, but we have a problem here. Instead of worrying about who gets blamed why not just help solve the problem and help them read, then teach them compositional skills" Several kids agreed with me.

"So who wants to read and write?" one boy asked.

"Shut up," someone else whispered

"It’s okay. I wrote a commercial for Jake’s Computers and I got a free PC out of the deal, and I wrote one for Dillards, and I got free ice cream for a year. So did Kyle Gray, but he only played the piano."

"I want to learn how to read and write."

"No, it’s not my fault. I’m not a reading teacher," Mr. Graves insisted.

"Neither am I, but I want to help."

"The School Board will be informed of this," he said, as if that settled the matter.

"Oh, then maybe we could select a tree in the playground as our Reading Tree. Anyone who wants to can gather in secret around the tree, like they did with the Liberty Trees in the Revolution. That way, no one will ever know where they learned to read."

The whole class cracked up, but Mr. Graves’ face turned bright red. "No. I won’t permit it."

"Then you never heard about it. Man," I said and sighed. "I should report this to Fox News. They’re all over stuff like this. It’s a conspiracy theory. The government is to blame."

Without a word, Mr. Graves stormed out of the room, and slammed the door behind him.

"Let’s do it. We can pick a Reading Tree without him."

"Yeah, after school, but let’s start now." I walked up to the board, and pointed at the row of letters that were posted above the blackboard. "Anyone know the alphabet?" I waited. "Okay, we’ll do it this way. Anyone ever hear of a vowel?"

One kid gave me a wide grin. "Isn’t that a little rodent that burrows?"

"Yes," I said. "Most people call those voles, not vowels," I said stressing each word, "But we can work with it. Here are the voles." I wrote out each vowel and drew in eyes, whiskers and tails. I drew the ’y’ off to one side.

"E, i, o, u, and sometimes y. All the other letters are moles, or consonants, but y is sometimes a vole and sometimes a mole. No one wants him, that’s why he’s off by himself.

"That’s so sad."

I nodded my head. I wrote out the consonants. "Now so we have the voles here, e, i, o, u, y. E, i, o, u, y. And the moles. Old MacDonald had a farm, e-i-o-u-y. and on this farm there were some voles. e-i-o-u-y. With an e-e here, and a i-i there. Here an o there a u, everywhere a y-y. Old MacDonald had a farm, e-i-o-u-y."

Everyone clapped.

Mr. Graves with Mr. Donaldson returned to the classroom. "There, he’s doing it."

"You left Simon in charge of this class?"

Mr. Graves shook his head. "I left no one in charge.

They are old enough to look after themselves."

"I don’t suppose you remember the part in your contract that states that no teacher will ever leave a class unattended. There is a buzzer on your desk that you can use to call for help. Strangely enough people have been using it all day about Simon."

"He’s threatened," Mr. Graves said, loudly, "to teach the kids in his class to read."

Mr. Donaldson looked at me. "Well, that’s a threat I can live with? Are there some kids that need to catch up?"

"All of them," I said. "Apparently they don’t teach kids to read in the first grade, but say they will learn in fifth."

Mr. Donaldson turned to the class. "Is that right?"

Everyone raised their hands. "Yes," came the general answer.

"You may want to ask that question of every class and grade in the middle school, sir." I said.

"I will have to. Okay, so, what happened. Tricia?"

"Well, we’ve been promised that we would learn to read this year. We thought Mr. Graves would teach us, and he put out these books on our desk. He asked who could read the first page, and Simon read the whole book. He was so funny. I can see why they want him for all those commercials. But Simon asked us who else could read, and we can’t, then he told Mr. Graves that he would help anyone that wanted to, to catch up.

"Mr. Graves got mad, and called him one of those kids, since he was home-schooled, and I wish my Mom could stay home and teach me, but Mr. Graves said that all home schooled kids were spoiled brats. Simon isn’t, as we all know, he’s a very intelligent and well-spoken brat," she said with a sidelong glance at me.

"Then Simon said he would help anyone that wanted to read during lunch, but Mr. Graves said that the School Board wouldn’t allow it, and Mr. Graves said that he was teaching compositional skills not reading, and Simon said that there wasn’t any use in teaching kids that can’t read and write compositional skills, and Simon said that he would pick a tree outside to be the Reading Tree and we could learn in secret like the Liberty Trees, and that’s

when Mr. Graves left, and Simon went over the alphabet with us."

"I see," Mr. Donaldson said. He studied the board for a moment. "Well, isn’t that cute. Simon?"

"I got things started and I asked the class if anyone knew what a vowel was, and that kid there...."

"I’m Charlie."

"Charlie said vowels were little rodents that burrow, and I said let’s go with it. So, we have these letters that are voles, and these letters that are moles, because they are bigger and there are more of them. Charlie, what are the voles?’

"E-i-o-u, and sometimes y," he sang out. "See, the y is all by itself because it’s one of those letters, that no one wants. It’s half vole and half mole."

I clapped. "Thanks, Charlie.

Mr. Donaldson covered his face with one hand. "That is a creative way to go about this. Okay, Simon made a great point, then, that there is no use teaching kids that can’t read how to compose...."

"I know how to compose," I said. "Do you want me to teach music, too?"

"No, but going with the flow, why don’t you sing something?"

"Sure," I said, and cleared my throat. "’What did you learn in school today, dear little class of mine? What did you learn in school today, dear little class of mine. We learned that two plus three is seven. We learned that Christopher Columbus didn’t go to heaven. We learned that reading isn’t fine, and neither is writing unless it’s mine, and that’s what we learned in school."

Mr. Donaldson shook his head as the laughter died down. "I had to ask that, didn’t I?"

"Are you going to permit this to go on? He still wants to teach these children to read."

"Permit it, I’m begging him to. Why, in the name of all that is educational, wouldn’t you want anyone to help these kids read, and why aren’t you offering to help? This is a serious problem. These kids are in the fifth grade, they should have been reading since the first."

"You can’t blame me for that."

"Come on, Mr. Graves," I said. "Isn’t it time to stop playing the blame game and think up solutions to this problem? You’re the English teacher, these kids haven’t been taught English. Can’t you help them?"

"I am not a reading teacher, and neither are you."

"My Mom wasn’t a reading teacher, but she taught me and it worked. And, if she was still alive, I’d be home in Massachusetts starting my home schooling there."

"And your Mom had nothing better to do?" Mr. Graves asked.

I found myself clenching my fists. "She thought it was important, and besides, they couldn’t send me to Public School. My Dad was one of the only three known Republicans in the state, and they didn’t want me to face all that ridicule."

Mr. Donaldson cracked up.

"I want that spoiled, little rich kid, out of my class," Mr. Graves snapped.

"Mr. Graves, meet me in my office. "So far, today, the only person in this whole school actually trying to teach kids anything at all is Simon. Out of the four math teachers I had for the fifth grade, only one could count all the way to ten, and she’s been here since the school opened in 1970. The History books are a disgrace, the science books aren’t that much better, and you aren’t getting it. The most important thing that the kids in my school need to know, is how to read."

"The School Board would never permit it, and don’t think that they won’t hear about this."

 

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