I glanced at the clock, knowing it was five-thirty in the morning.
I walked to the bathroom, only to discover that Shark Week decided to pay me a visit.
And I wish.....I could ride a horse....
I turned on the shower and inexplicably, not a drop of water came out.
I patched together what could nominally be called a bath, got dressed and grabbed my jug of juice for my all-day fast. Just looking at it made me feel hungry.
"Ms. Wagner, Ms. Wagner!" Rafael called for the millionth time and as always, he was immediately in my face before I could even respond. In my face, no matter what I was doing or who I was helping. As always. With laptop in hand, though I have told him a million times not to run around the room, not to run around with an open laptop, not to run, jump, scream, grab, etc. He spun toward me with his open laptop, hitting a twenty-four ounce cup of coffee. Even with the lid on, it spewed hot coffee all over my desk - over all of my books, paperwork, rosters, computer, even my phone.
"GET AWAY FROM ME!" I shouted.
You could have heard a pin drop in that trailer. All of my kids stared straight at their computers, afraid to even look at me as I wiped the coffee off of myself and my desk.
And I laughed, like I always do.....
I glanced at the clock, knowing it was five-thirty in the morning.
I took what could nominally be called a bath, because even a plumber could not fix whatever is going on in our bathroom.
And I cried, like I cried for you.....
"Hey Wagner, I need you, this one, this one....." the meanest teacher in the school said loudly and harshly, eyes widening dramatically.
"He doesn't, he doesn't nothing, nothing.....!!" she exclaimed, shaking her head wildly and gesturing toward a a dark-haired little boy and his mother, as if they were also blind and could not see a very large asshole standing in front of them.
"I'll take care of this." I answered, ushering them away and introducing myself in Spanish. It was not even eight o'clock, yet.
I explained everything to the mother and answered all of her questions. Then, I took the new boy to music, where the rest of his class was. As soon as we walked through the door, Danny's eyes fixed on the new Hispanic boy. He inadvertently started rising to his feet.
"You have to help him." I whispered to him in Spanish.
He nodded solemnly.
And I cried, like I cried for you......
Now I was waking up at five in the morning, before the alarm even went off. "Balloon Man" inexplicably continued as the unofficial soundtrack for my Groundhog's Day morning wake-ups and sorry excuses for baths. My hair felt weirdly sticky from the shampoo I couldn't seem to get out.
"So your first language is Mam, that is really cool" I said in Spanish to the little Mayan boy the following morning. I had quickly arranged to add him to my before-school class after reviewing his files and being the good kid that he is, he actually came the very next day. He arrived in the United States in September, around the same time as Raphael. I wondered how long he had been on the road.
"You really speak three languages, that is amazing." I continued. My desk still stunk of old coffee. I thought about the clump of eyelashes that have randomly departed from my left eye and tried to act natural.
He smiled shyly. We looked at his Guatemalan town on Google maps while I assessed his Spanish reading abilities. He explained things about Mam that I didn't know.
"So, I won't be here on the sixth or seventh of March....I'm not sure which day." he told me in Spanish.
"Okay! Do you have an appointment?'' I responded, assuming he might be going to the doctor's or something.
"Well, I have to go to court, it is about my visa, well, it is about if I can stay here. They said I broke the law when I crossed the border in Texas."
I stared back at him.
Eleven year-olds don't break the law. Children don't have court dates. Eleven year-olds shouldn't be deported and separated from the families they are finally seeing again after years apart. It is cruel. It is inhumane. He is a child. It doesn't matter who is in charge of this country, our cruelty always remains the same. I would like one of the people making these laws to sit in a broken down utility trailer behind a broken down school at seven o'clock in the morning and explain to a wide-eyed little boy why any of this is a good idea. I'd spend good money for a ticket to that show.
"I'm scared." he added.
"I love you, mamí." Rafael called while running at me in the bus line.
I let him hug me, not that he really gives me much of a choice.
"I love you too, son." I responded. I felt weird saying it, but even worse that this little boy tried so hard with people that are mean to him.
I watched him and Danny run, weaving their way through the larger kids and the bullies and the racists. Farther up the hill, Eduardo's family waited for him. A woman with hair to her knees and a shoeless child tied to her back by a multi-colored textile waived to him. Danny and Rafael jumped on their janky school bus and it tore up the hill, carrying them out into the world.
*Lyrics, Balloon Man, Robyn Hitchcock
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