My Chronicles Of The Last Lovatos

Catalina a very caring and observant little girl noticed that my eyes were watering, and I kept wiping them with a tissue, I was getting over a cold, and she walks up to me and whispers, “Are you crazy?” I looked at her confused, because she asked me in English, made me smile. Then I was confused because she thought I was crazy. Her and I had a very healthy communication style that helped her learn English and she was not shy to tell me how her family was doing, because of the trust and respect she had for me as her summer school principal. I worked as a regular 1st grade classroom teacher during that year, because funding for the Migrant Programs is dependent on student numbers and on the crop success of the summer meant there were always times when few workers were needed to work the fields so that limits the number of children that will be in the program from year to year. Although the numbers of children were more than usual that summer the funding is always one year behind the actual need for more money to serve more students. The count of students was sometimes adjusted to accommodate the student numbers by using supplemental formulas. The reason I know this is because I was also the Migrant Director for the area which encompassed 54 school districts. Not all the districts have children of Migrant Workers, but some children also need support for their parents to be able to work. These children have no choice but to follow their parents. They leave their home schools early in the spring and do not return until late November or early December. The Migrant Program was created to fill the gaps of these children's education. Education is not a priority if a family is dependent on this type of work to carry them through the winter. However, concern and empathy are one of the greatest assets that these families have for each other and it carries through even in the youngest of their children. Empathy, that to children has no boundaries. If they feel safe and important they too will give you the empathy that all humans need. Maybe I thought she meant I was crazy because she saw that I worked two jobs, because she would see me at the Parent Advisory Council meetings that she sometimes attended with her parents or at functions where we distributed food, clothing or books for the families. In reflecting on my thoughts of Catalina, all those employees and volunteers and services that came to the summer school as youth workers, foster grandparents, nurses, dental hygienists, dentists, bus drivers, cooks, couriers, student assistance, artists, musicians, dancers, parents, community organizations, custodians, church groups, TV and Radio endorsements and information, newspapers, and of course the local school district support were first of all empathetic to the cause. Catalina mirrored in her own small way a thankfulness toward her appreciation for feeling safe. I asked Catalina, “What?” She repeated, “Are you crazy?” Still confused I asked her, “Why?” She responded, “Because you rub you eyes.” I realized that in her broken English she was practicing, and she confused “crazy” for “crying” and I smiled and told her that she meant “crying”. She said, “Oh, are you crying?” I explained to her, in Spanish, that I had a cold and then I explained to her the difference between crying and crazy. My older sister and I learned Spanish before we learned English because of my Grama Eduviguen, who preferred to speak Spanish, and we only spoke English to our siblings. Language has always fascinated me. Dad would teach us words in Navajo, French, Spanish and of course English. Catalina had listened to the English language for at least one year before she was in my classroom. She had heard her teachers, older siblings, TV and Radio and other adults at the stores or in the community speaking English. She was passed the “listening stage” and she was entering the beginning of “emergence”. I would say something to her giving her directions verbally and by pointing or demonstrating and she would repeat the simple phrases that I would do daily; get your pencil, write your name, look at the board, give me your paper, get ready for lunch, line up, and so on. Catalina was great at repeating and smiling when I would tell her good! Or good job! The last day of the year before the Christmas break or Winter break, Catalina was putting on her coat and she started off saying, “Goodbye Mr. Valdez.” I replied, “Goodbye, Catalina.” She then said, “See you later Mr. Valdez.” I replied, “See you later Catalina.” She then continued, “See you after a while.” I continued, “See you after a while.” She then said, “See you tomorrow.” I corrected her and said, “There is no school tomorrow.” She laughed and said, “Oh yes, see you Monday.” Again, I corrected her and said, “There is no school on Monday.” She looked confused and asked, “No aye escuela el Lunes?” I told her, “No, es tiempo de vacaciones.” I think she knew what that meant, but I did not really understand what she was thinking at the time. It meant that she was going to have to move. If I had realized that she was moving, I would have continued the little game she was playing. She started again, “Goodbye Mr. Valdez.” I repeated, “Goodbye Catalina.” “See you someday Mr. Valdez.” “See you someday Catalina. Okay go home Catalina it's late.” I spoke. She said, “Okayyyyy, Goodbye Mr. Valdez.” She never returned that January and it still breaks my heart.