DANNY
I almost reached over and took Ella’s hand when she pointed at two high schoolers holding signs with our names on them. This school gets stranger and stranger. Ella said, “This guy will be your big brother this semester, and you’ll have lunch with him every Tuesday and Thursday. And the girl will be my big sister for the semester. I’ve seen them around school the last two years, but I can’t say I know them. The guy’s name is Jack Sanchez, and he plays basketball. Let’s go meet them.”
Ella led me to where the two teens were standing and introduced me as a new student. They were friendly, and Jack Sanchez, my new ‘big brother,’ said, “Well, Danny, welcome to Thousand Smiles.” I said thanks.
Julie Stang, Ella’s big sister, asked, “And where are you from, Danny?” I replied, “Mississippi.” She said she had never been there and was looking forward to hearing more, then quickly added, “Let’s go in for lunch.”
Boy, the girls are sure different here. Julie took my hand and we went into the dining hall. Both teens seemed to know where to take us, and we found one of the 25 or so large round tables with eight chairs.
Jack Sanchez pulled out a chair for me and sat down. Wow, a high schooler pulling out a chair for a fifth grader! This school is so damn strange. Like the hick that I was, I exclaimed, “Look, real silverware - forks, spoons, and knives!” All seven of my tablemates chuckled or laughed at this. The plates are still plastic, but a better kind than the disposable ones I was used to. I looked around the room and focused on the inside walls – I couldn’t see the cafeteria line. I asked, “And now do we go to a cafeteria line? And where is it? In a different room?”
Jack gently put a hand on my shoulder and looked at Ella sitting next to him, “Ella, you need to educate your guest a bit better. Get your lazy butt in gear, young lady,” He chuckled. Ella said, “He’s doing great, so you just do your part and tell him why he’s sitting at a table with a know-it-all, like you.
“Okay, I will.” He turned to me, “As I understand it, Danny, the fellow, Ella’s grandfather, who started these kind of K-12 schools, Dr. Mark Haloran, back in 2018 or around that time, thought there was too much age segregation in our society and thought that it all started with the way schools were all divided into one small school called kindergarten, then a bigger elementary school for five grades and another middle school for sixth through eighth and then high school. And I went to one of those kinds of schools, and believe me, Ten Thousand Smiles is a million times better.”
17.
I looked around Jack and asked Ella, “You’re very own grandpa is the person who invented this type of school? Why didn’t you tell me?
“And what difference would it make? And when would I have had time to tell you?” She sounded impatient. I just shrugged, and she continued, “And Jack is just showing us that he is a good listener. My grandfather, Mark Haloran, visits our school every year and goes around to every class. So you’ll get to meet him then. He stays at our house when he’s here from Missouri.”
Just then, an elderly woman pushing a cart stopped next to our table. “Good day, boys and girls, I’m Isabel, and I will be your volunteer waitress for you this semester, and if you are kind, I may stay for next semester. And if you are unkind…” She stopped talking and gave us a big smile and continued, “I’ll pour a bowl of hot soup on your heads.”
All seven of my tablemates assured her that we were the kindest and most polite bunch in the universe. Then we giggled, and I joined them. Isabel began placing food on the table. There were two bowls of mixed vegetable salads, a dish that looked like meat but wasn’t. Ella whispered to me that meat from animals, chickens, pigs, or cows, was not allowed in California’s public schools and other state institutions. Californians would have starved in Mississippi. Again, I thought I was in a completely foreign country.
The designers of the dining hall were geniuses, as over 275 people ate lunch and talked without the noise being too loud. You could hear nearly everyone at the table without straining. For example, I learned that Jack grew up in Kansas, had a bunch of brothers and sisters, and attended a private Catholic school in the Kansas City area. He said he hoped to learn a bit about all of us. I was sitting next to him, and he said, “You looked a bit puzzled when I mentioned that I went to a Catholic college. Were there any Catholics in Mississippi?”
“I don’t know, Sir, I didn’t know any. Is that the name of a religion?”
“Hey man, my name’s Jack, not Sir.” He smiled all friendly-like and looked at his fellow high schooler at our table, Art Shiff, and almost yelled, “Oh man, Art, did you hear him call me ‘Sir’?” Art nodded, and Jack continued, “Danny, seriously, were you supposed to call a junior in high school ‘sir’?”
“We never had any high school students in our school. I was kinda looking forward to being one of the top dogs in the fifth grade in middle school back in Mississippi, but I moved to California instead. I think fifth grade here is better, anyway.” We were all eating while we talked, and there was one thing similar about the girls here and in Mississippi, and that was that the girls were more well-mannered eaters than the boys. And the boys were all slobs. After lunch, Jack, Ella, and I went slowly.
18.
Walked over to the building where Ella and I had our exercise class. I learned that Jack’s dad had died back in Kansas, and his mom and siblings all moved to California, where his oldest brother and sister lived. Jack worked after school as a gardener here at the school and on Saturday.
We arrived at our classroom, and Jack said he’d see me on Thursday. Again, Ella took my hand and led me through the door. This handholding didn’t seem to be any more meaningful for her than saying, “Here we are.” She said that she was pretty sure we would start the class with tai-chi, as if I knew what that was. She read my questioning look and added, “It’s the gentlest of the martial arts, you’ll like it.”
Again, I was sure I was in another world and told myself to relax, dummy. And again, Ella was right; I did like it. It took me about fifteen minutes to relax, and then I started to enjoy moving my body like the rest of the class. There were about forty students, fifth and sixth graders, Ella told me. She also mentioned that switching to a more energetic martial art, aikido, would require us to change into gym clothes. And again, I’d have to go shopping with somebody else’s money. I hated being a beggar. This class lasted an hour and a half and will meet again on Thursday. I wasn’t sure what we did on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.
Ella led me back to the fifth-grade classroom where we would have English writing and speech. The new fifth grader in the other cohort and I were the only ones who did not have a written 200-word article or essay describing our experience meeting with, and talking to, a senior man or woman whom we had never met before.
Izzy Cassidy told me and the other ‘newbie’ that Izzy was short for Isidore, just like Danny was for Daniel. I didn’t tell him my name was never Daniel. A teacher named Izzy was so damn strange. This place never stops being strange. It took the entire class half a period to read and discuss the essays. They were good, and Izzy asked us to discuss our reactions to each of them – especially how well we thought we got to know both the writers, that is, the interviewers, and the persons interviewed. I was surprised that each of us had different ideas about each one. Boys were more interested in the students' and elders' activities and where they lived, whereas most of the girls were interested in their clothing and feelings. In any writing class in Mississippi, the teacher would return our assignments with numerous red corrections, highlighting mistakes in spelling, punctuation, and other areas. I learned more this way and got to know my classmates better. If we had read something someone else had written or said and then laughed at something we found funny, we would have faced serious trouble.
Here, no one laughed at the writer, but at what was written about. Izzy asked us to watch a TV show and write a half-page critique of it. I had to ask Ella what a critique was. She explained it to me and then said she’d see me in the morning. I then went to have my meeting with Sam.
I want to go to that school!
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