Plantation by Donna L. Clovis

Author:Donna L. Clovis [Clovis, Donna L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Xlibris US
Published: 2000-12-11T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 15

Arthur Bennett, a brown-skinned seven-year-old with rough black hair parted on the side, hunched over his desk crammed with loose papers and books, the edges sticking out on all sides. He was making a story book. He began with two main characters, a dog and cat, dancing on a porch.

Arthur drew the animals simply. The dog was black with a red tongue and thick tail. The cat was brown with one white eye. He worked quickly, humming and fidgeting, barely able to contain his excitement. As Arthur drew, he whispered words about the story. “They’re dancin because they’re happy. It’s Sunday, so they can have some fun,” he said without looking up from his crayons.

Ida stood above him. Arthur looked up. “That’s good, Arthur,” she said touching his shoulder. “Just try to work quieter, please.”

“You like it,” Miss Ida B.?” Arthur grinned.

“Yes, I do,” Ida said, nodding.

Ida taught fourteen first and second-graders at the Witherspoon Street School for the Colored. This afternoon, they worked at their desks in a small cluttered classroom, like a shoe box, stuffed with students, second-hand books, maps, and globes from the white Nassau Street school. Ida sat in a corner with a group of five beginning readers. Ida used white cards to help them put sounds together into syllables. Then she asked a student to read from a small book.

Mary Ann, a slight dark-skinned girl with glasses, stood before the group sitting in a semi-circle. She read slowly, with a clear and varied tone. Mary Ann paused, shifting from side to side, then fiddled with her black braids. She spoke and paused again while two girls giggled. Her hands, holding the book, shook slightly. After reading three sentences, the children applauded.

“Very nice, Mary Ann,” Ida smiled. “You must be practicing your reading at home.”

“I am, Miss Ida B. My Mama practice reading every night with me. My Mama says that’s the only way I can go to college one day,” Mary Ann said ending her sentence with a giggle. Mary Ann pulled a book from her bag, hanging from the back of her carved-up and scratched wooden chair. She opened the book to the first page. “I can read this book too.”

Suddenly, a small light-skinned child ran to the back row of the classroom over crumpled papers left on the floor. He threw his body face down over the desk and sobbed.

“Oh my,” Ida said softly touching his shoulder. “What happened?”

The little boy, with his face hidden, continued to cry.

“Shhh, Michael,” Ida comforted. “We can talk about this. Let me dismiss the class first. It’s time to go home anyway.” Ida looked up and snapped her fingers. “Class it’s time to go home. Remember the homework. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Michael sat up quietly, wiping the tears from his eyes, as his classmates noisily ran around gathering their books and coats. He wrapped his feet around the legs of his chair and fidgeted with a red crayon.

When the classroom was quiet, Ida sat next to Michael.

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