Hail to the Chief

You know how you sometimes mindlessly whistle a tune while you work? That's what LO is doing right, now as she works on her Reading Project.

This is a major project. The students had to read a biography of their choice and then select one item from each of three areas: Visual, Class Participation, and Written.

The options for Visual were such items as "create a video of a scene in the book"; "create a scuplture of the character -- use any combination of soap, wood, clay, sticks, wire, etc." "build a miniature stage setting of a scene in the book. Include a written explanation of the scene." LO chose, "Make three pictures about the book using two or more of the following media: paint, crayons, chalk, paper, ink, real materials."

There were 6 options for the Written component. One of them was, "Select a national issue. Compose a speech to be given on that topic by the character in the book. Be sure the contents of the speech reflect the character's personality and beliefs." LO chose the option, "Write a multiple-choice quiz of the book: 30 questions. Develop them from the beginning, middle and end of the book."

Finally, the Class Participation component offers 6 components from which to choose. One of them is, "Create a board game based on events and characters in the book. By playing the game, members of the class should learn what happened in the book. Your game should include: a game board, a rule sheet and clear directions, events and characters from the story on cards or on the game board." LO chose to "Imagine that you are about to make a feature-length film of the biography you've read. You have been instructed to select your cast from members of your Language Arts class and tell why you selected each person for a given part. Consider both appearance and personality. Write a short script and have them act their part."

Whew.

It's pretty interesting which biography LO selected to read: Stalin. She is 12. Other kids chose to read about sports heroes, movie icons, legendary heroes of the past. I was with LO when she asked the librarian for help. "I'd like to read about a dictator, please," she said in her sweet voice. The librarian tried to guide her to more wholesome lives. "How about Helen Keller, dear?" "No, thank you," she asserted. "I'd like to read about a dictator."

So. She read about Stalin.

It caused a pretty big rift with one of her closest gfs. The girlfriend comes from a pretty conservative family where everything is black-and-white. She confronted LO after school about choosing Stalin. "He was so bad. Why are you reading about him?" LO had read just enough of the book at that point to recognize Stalin's humanity. "He was a bad leader. He killed people. But don't you think it's fascinating that he was born into a poor family and took over all of Russia? How did he do that?" The argument escalated. Shouting. "Shut UP!" Fingers were pointed.

Fortunately it was at about that moment that I pulled up in the Mommy Line. Another moment or two and it may have come to blows. LO came to the car with her head bent; burst into tears as she approached the car. "Uh-oh," I thought. Got in the car, slammed the door. After just a moment of silence, she began to scream. The more she screamed, the angrier she got. Her face was contorted. Her jaw shook with rage. It was sort of scary to watch.

Half a block past the school, I pulled the car over. Gave her tissues. Found a bottle of water in the back seat and gave it to her. I never said a word.

She continued to rant as we drove home. She yelled about the girl not listening to her. About her putting her finger in her face. About her saying, "Shut up." (This is a bad word in our house.)

What she was really crying about was about being misunderstood. About her not understanding someone who wouldn't try to understand.

I did not say a word all the way home. Believe me -- I really did not.

LO went to the restroom soon as we got in. (She always does. There is no soap in the girls' rooms at school, so she does not use them.) She was still crying.

I grabbed 2 jackets and headed back downstairs. "LO, come down to the car when you are done..." I called. In the garage I grabbed her tennis racket and a bucket of balls.

She got in the car and we drove to City Park. "Hit them as hard as you can," I instructed her. Boy, she did. Spiked ball after ball out of the courts. I ran for them. Threw them back. She hit them. Over and over. Every now and then she would start to wear out and I would egg her on: "Hit harder!" And she did. At one point, the ball hit me square in the...chest. Ouch. I was saying the Pledge of Allegiance for several minutes. Still have a bruise.

The weather prior to that day had been sunny and warm. That particular day, the winds were about 40mph and definitely chilly. We were working hard but my hands were freezing. I know hers were, too.

We did not take a break. We did not talk. She hit. I threw them back.

After 35 minutes, we had several out in the field. I told her, "Hit these last few over the fence and we'll go pick them all up."

Finally, we got in the car and turned on the heat. Started the drive home. "Thanks, Nana," she said. "I thought you would probably buy me ice cream to make me feel better."
"You're welcome."
"I was already mad about that. I didn't want ice cream. I wanted to smash it in your face. But you did this. It was 'way better."

We began to laugh. We laughed. And laughed. And cried. And laughed some more.

The next day the gf and LO talked and came to an understanding.

And so, now she is in the dining room. She has completed one acrylic portrait of Stalin. She has written her script and her multiple-choice test. Now she is sketching his birthplace in pencil, and will finally do a portrait of his first wife.

And, she is whistling. The tune?

"Hail to the Chief."