|
Grumpy
Side of 60
The
little girl who didn’t like me
By Bob Robinson
Callie
Z. was a pistol. She was in
kindergarten. Bright. Sharp. Did well on her assignments…
“Mr.
Robinson, Callie pushed me.”
“Callie,
come here, please. Why did you push
her?”
“I
wanted to get a crayon and she wouldn’t
move.”
“Do
you think that is okay?”
Callie
shrugged. “She wouldn’t move,” she said
finally.
“What
if she’d lost her balance and fell,
hurting herself? Would that have been okay?”
Callie
just stood there, looking down.
“You
don’t push people, even if they are in
your way. It isn’t polite and you could hurt someone. Just a warning
this time,
but if there’s a problem again, you’ll have to pull a card.”
She
looked at me; her eyes flashed. It was not
an adoring look.
Later
that year, I was the “gym teacher,” which
is a story in itself. Callie was a standout. Followed the rules, well…
most of
the time. A strong competitor. I had to warn her a couple times, but
for the
most part there were no issues.
I
had visions of her playing first team
volleyball and basketball for Greenville in a few years. In basketball,
I’m
guessing she’d also probably be one of the first players to “foul out.”
Fast
forward to first grade. Callie was in one
of my classes last fall. She was a year older, a year smarter and, it
would
seem, a year more aggressive.
“Mr.
Robinson, Callie pushed me again.”
I
looked up to see Callie looking at me, so I
motioned with my finger for her to come over to me.
“Callie?”
No
answer.
“Callie,
did you push him?”
No
answer.
“Do
you remember a conversation we had last
year?” She nodded. “He said you pushed him again. So this isn’t the
first
time?” No answer. My dilemma… I don’t like to pull cards. That starts
the
students off on the wrong foot with their teacher the next day. If I
can work
with a student without doing that, then everyone is better off.
At
least that’s my humble opinion. However,
this was evidently repetitive behavior.
“Okay,
Callie. You need to pull a card.”
She
looked up, eyes flashing. It was that same
unadoring look I saw a year ago. She pulled a card and sat down. That
was how
the morning started.
Lunchtime.
I always ate with my students at
Woodland. As luck would have it, I ended up sitting directly across
from
Callie. She just stared at her tray.
“Callie,
you aren’t eating.” No answer. She
kept staring at her tray. After a minute or so, I said, “Callie, you
have to
eat. If I move, will you eat?”
She
nodded. I moved down the table a few seats
and she started eating. We had no more problems that day.
After
that I didn’t have her in any more
classes, but I saw her all the time in the lunchroom. Sometimes I
caught her
looking at me; then I’d see that brief “flash” and she’d look away.
This
went on for a couple weeks. If I caught
her looking, she’d cover the side of her face and look away. Finally…
“You
don’t like me much, do you Callie?” She
shook her head vigorously. “No!” she said.
“That’s
okay, sweety, I like you.” She got
angrier. I grinned.
And
so it continued. She’d look then turn away,
hiding her face with her hand. I started grinning at her. Her eyes
would flash
and again, she’d look away. I never stopped grinning.
Then
one day – I might have imagined it – I
thought I saw a half-smile when she looked away.
The
last time? She shook her head and looked
away, but she was smiling.
Gotcha!
|
