When I Come Around...

I hadn’t stepped into Casis Elementary since my daughter finished fifth grade there in 1995. I remember the graduation ceremony. Lots of blonde braids and new braces and polo shirts and floral sun dresses. 

It just couldn’t be sweeter, we thought, but then, someone cranked up the PA, and Green Day’s “When I Come Around” blared out, and when the band came to the third stanza — No time to search the world around; ‘Cause you know where I’ll be found…” — a chorus of fifth-grade angels with soft Texas accents joined in, “Wen I come ah-rau-ound.”

And that’s when we choked up.

Well, it’s 23 years later, and school’s out in a week, and I decide it would be interesting to return to Casis and to see if or how it’s changed, so I email principal Samuel Tinnon late one night, asking permission to interview four or five first graders. Early the next morning, I receive an email welcoming me and putting me in touch with first grade teacher Rachel Roberts to make the arrangements.

“Here’s my idea,” I say. “I want to ask your first graders how they think the year went.”

I’m on a tight deadline, I add.

“Can you be here at 8 tomorrow morning,” she asks, and I can, so, on an impossibly cool late-May morning, I park three or four blocks east of Exposition and walk to Casis to join the crush of parents and little ones squirming to get to class.

Then, the bell rings, and the halls empty except for one or two stragglers, and I tip-toe into Room 106. Ms. Roberts apologizes for the mess only she, apparently, notices because all I see is a gaggle of 6 and 7-year-olds, staring at me as if I had just fallen through the roof.

Then, we pledge allegiance and enjoy a minute of silent meditation and mull over the message of the day, which was “Acknowledge others.”

“Kind, simple words can make other people feel good, all day through,” the person on the PA said, and I suspect it is Mr. Tinnon. “So, compliment others. Live, love, laugh and learn.”

With the formalities dispensed, Ms. Roberts — a veteran teacher at 27 — scoots the children into a circle, introduces me, and gives me the floor. I fumble with my recorder and camera and iPhone for a moment, and then Jackson Cox, a 7-year-old with perfectly combed blonde hair and what looks to be a bonk on his forehead, takes the seat next to me, and we are off. 

“What is the most important thing you’ve learned this year?” I ask, and he says, “Umm” and draws a blank until someone says something about money, and then he remembers, “Two quarters makes 50 cents and four quarters makes a dollar.”

I ask him how he learned this, and he says, “I learned it here.” That is, from Ms. Roberts.

“Is she a good teacher?” I ask, and they all jump in, “Yes!” and it takes a moment for things to settle down. 

I ask Jackson for any advice he might want to share with next year’s first graders, and he takes this very seriously. 

“Read. Write. Draw. On the weekends, do math and study,” Jackson says. “And bring your book bags every day.” First grade is a lot harder than kindergarten, he adds, although Annie in the audience burnishes the edges by adding, “Read, write, have fun and enjoy your first grade time.”

Next up, Jack Flynn. I ask him the same questions, and, like Jackson, he suffers a moment of stage fright until he remembers he likes math. 

That’s because Ms. Roberts makes math fun. A week earlier, they conducted a sidewalk sale, and they sold stuff they made — like painted rocks and bracelets and pompoms — and they had to count the money and make change, and it was fun. 

Then, Annie Sutherland bounces up. She needs no prompting when I ask what she’s learned. 

“Bugs and wishes,” she says crisply, then explains. “If somebody hurts your feelings, you say, ‘It bugs me when you do that. I wish you wouldn’t do that again.’ And they say ‘OK,’ and if they don’t, then you can tell.”

Annie’s advice for next year’s first graders? 

“If you get lost or need something, find someone reading a book and ask them for help.”

Book-readers know stuff, apparently. 

Anything else, Annie? 

“Yesss! Ms. Roberts always says, ‘This next activity is my favorite activity of the whole year.’ She says it every time.”

Every time, the kids repeat. Every time she gives an assignment, it’s her favorite of the whole year.

“That’s because I love them all,” Ms. Roberts explains.

I also interview Philip Young, Ella Speer, Finn Pardee, Laith Osborne, Brynn Lloyd, Knox Meley and Blake Sophia Bernstein, and I prod each to explain to me how they’ve grown as classmates, siblings and citizens, but they’re more focused on practical matters like verbs, fractions, double addition, stalagmites, stalagtites and “elevator spelling,” which mixes spelling with gymnastics.

Brynn is fascinated with lizards. “If a lizard gets its tail cut off, it can still be alive. The tail will grow back.”

She knows this because she read it in a library book. There are bearded lizards and rainbow lizards and corn lizards, she adds. She clearly knows her lizards.

As for next year’s first graders, Philip suggests they keep their backpacks nearby and zipped up, although he can’t imagine anyone stealing anything. It’s just a good habit, he thinks.

Another good idea? Never ever, ever, ever rush through your work or you’ll mess up and have to start over, Blake Sophia says. She learned this the hard way. 

Knox can relate. He warns next year’s first graders not to over-reach. “If you try to read at a level that’s way too high, you may not be able to read it, and you won’t get better.”

Ella says first graders need to know how to count to 100 on Day 1, and Laith, who loves poetry, says they need to prepare themselves for the possibility of being required to write a whole book. 

It all sounds pretty rigorous, but Finn takes the edge off: “Practice reading, writing and you’ll be a successful first grader.”

Finally, I ask them, “What do you think second grade will be like?”

They’re not sure. A lot like first grade, they suspect, although Philip predicted, “It’s going to be harder in math.”

“You’re sure of that, are you?”

“Yep.”

I thank them. They thank me. On my way out, I swing by the Main Office to “acknowledge” Mr. Tinnon and thank him for reminding me to live, learn, laugh and love. I walk back to my car, and in my head, I can hear Green Day and the chorus of ‘95 singing, “Wen I come ah-rau-ound.”