Another Gold Star on the Calendar
My older kids and I are reading Johnny Appleseed. It's a two-act play written by Pleasant de Spain. It's in the Something New, Harcourt Textbook.
Let's get to the part where Johnny Appleseed breaks down his whole philosophy of "I just pass Mother Nature's gift along to fellow man, man!" to the Frontier Father, Frontier Mother, Frontier Son and Frontier Daughter. I wish I didn't have the hang-ups I do about being seen in public with that bound stack of paper shit, I bring it home and scan it.
Much as I'd like to dog Harcourt, I've lately been thinking about how one might get away with making money off these guys. So we'll leave it at that.
Anyway, one of the smart girls in the class read this passage aloud. I told her to stop. I asked the kids if they got the message.
You know: Legalize pot.
And the hands weren't exactly going up like missiles pointed at Taiwan's port side.
Alright, so I've got my routine down. I look at the first word that seemed most likely not to have been taught them. Yup. Nature.
I started with the weater, worked my way down to the mountains, the plateaus, the hills, the treetops, right down to beneath the earth's crust to its core. And then back up to the continents. And the wild animals that call these continents home. And then up the evolutionary ladder to the humans which tamed the wild animals. And then on to the fact that some things made by human hands become part of nature.
"Are you starting to understand?" I asked.
No one but the smart, fat kid who likes jazz raised their hand.
"Can you maybe . . . think of a Chinese word that might describe this thing I'm talking about?" I asked.
Same as before. The smart, fat kid who likes jazz raised his hand. He's been a bit of a ball hog with the Q&A's as of late, since he lost the coveted Best Test Score spot to the smart, fat kid with glasses in kindergarten's big sister. I heaved the most exaggerated sigh I could and said, alright, let's hear it.
And he said to me: "Zi ran de."
Okay . . .
And at just that moment, the Taiwanese Teacher and her trainee stepped in. I asked her the Chinese rendering of nature. She tells me "Zi ran de."
"You fucking rule!" I shouted at the kid. "And why is it hard to describe a word like 'nature?'"
"Because it is about so many things!"
And the Taiwanese Teacher started taking pictures of the kids, because it was her last day. And me and her trainee, Ramone, went out to the balcony, with the old tables and broken rooftop toys. We put Best of Blue Note Break Beats vols. 1-4 on the little stereo that you have to use a pair of scissors to turn on because the PLAY button is missing and toked up. Midway through the spliff, two Taiwanese housewives, in an apartment across the alley, started making out and unbuttoning the others' shirt.
Naturally.
Let's get to the part where Johnny Appleseed breaks down his whole philosophy of "I just pass Mother Nature's gift along to fellow man, man!" to the Frontier Father, Frontier Mother, Frontier Son and Frontier Daughter. I wish I didn't have the hang-ups I do about being seen in public with that bound stack of paper shit, I bring it home and scan it.
Much as I'd like to dog Harcourt, I've lately been thinking about how one might get away with making money off these guys. So we'll leave it at that.
Anyway, one of the smart girls in the class read this passage aloud. I told her to stop. I asked the kids if they got the message.
You know: Legalize pot.
And the hands weren't exactly going up like missiles pointed at Taiwan's port side.
Alright, so I've got my routine down. I look at the first word that seemed most likely not to have been taught them. Yup. Nature.
I started with the weater, worked my way down to the mountains, the plateaus, the hills, the treetops, right down to beneath the earth's crust to its core. And then back up to the continents. And the wild animals that call these continents home. And then up the evolutionary ladder to the humans which tamed the wild animals. And then on to the fact that some things made by human hands become part of nature.
"Are you starting to understand?" I asked.
No one but the smart, fat kid who likes jazz raised their hand.
"Can you maybe . . . think of a Chinese word that might describe this thing I'm talking about?" I asked.
Same as before. The smart, fat kid who likes jazz raised his hand. He's been a bit of a ball hog with the Q&A's as of late, since he lost the coveted Best Test Score spot to the smart, fat kid with glasses in kindergarten's big sister. I heaved the most exaggerated sigh I could and said, alright, let's hear it.
And he said to me: "Zi ran de."
Okay . . .
And at just that moment, the Taiwanese Teacher and her trainee stepped in. I asked her the Chinese rendering of nature. She tells me "Zi ran de."
"You fucking rule!" I shouted at the kid. "And why is it hard to describe a word like 'nature?'"
"Because it is about so many things!"
And the Taiwanese Teacher started taking pictures of the kids, because it was her last day. And me and her trainee, Ramone, went out to the balcony, with the old tables and broken rooftop toys. We put Best of Blue Note Break Beats vols. 1-4 on the little stereo that you have to use a pair of scissors to turn on because the PLAY button is missing and toked up. Midway through the spliff, two Taiwanese housewives, in an apartment across the alley, started making out and unbuttoning the others' shirt.
Naturally.