Ali is Chaldean, trying to fit in to a primarily Black school, speaking very limited English, unless you count curse words. But what he lacks in written and oral communication, he makes up for in physical aggression. He plays too rough, swears like a sailor, has been in several fights and has been suspended numerous times.
So it's not hard for me to find fault with Ali; he's usually guilty of something. But he's got these big puppy dog eyes, and this crazy mop of black hair; he really does kind of grow on you, despite your immense frustration with the boy.
Many of his academic frustrations might be remedied by giving him a full-time interpreter & tutor to help him bridge the language gap until he becomes more proficient in the English language. Maybe then he could channel his energies into work he understands and knows how to do. Unfortunately, what Ali does get is inconsistent and limited ELL (English Language Learner) services for about 45 minutes a day, twice a week-maybe.
He's frustrated. I'm frustrated. And so it goes. So I try to give Ali some responsibilities in the class, hoping it will help keep him out of trouble, if only for a while. One week I made him the boy’s bathroom monitor, and he was overjoyed with the task.
One day, the class was in the hallway, lined up for their afternoon bathroom break. Ali stood in doorway, ushering boys in and out, when he said the following: "Hey, whassup, My Digga?"
Almost immediately, there was an outcry from the other students who were within earshot. Because of course, with Ali’s accent, what he said sounded very much like he was headed for another suspension.
"Ms. Tienda!” they cried. “Ali said the n-word!"
Wait a minute...what?! I was there. I heard his tone; his voice was casual and friendly. And I think I heard his words. It sounded like...but wait...what?! What just happened here?! Quick—mentally rewind the last few seconds—WTF? was all I could think before I had to react.
“Ali, tell me what you just said,” I asked.
Ali, who was visibly confused, looked at me pleadingly with those big eyes and just kept shaking his head no.
So the other kids answered for him: “He said the n-word!”
"Not you,” I growled to the other students, desperately trying to maintain control in the hallway, "Ali, tell me what you said."
With desperation in his voice, Ali yelled, “No, Ms. Tienda! I no say the n-word! I say ‘Hi, Digga.’”
“You said hi to someone? Who was it?” I ask, knowing that no one named ‘Digga’ is on my class roster.
“Digga. My Digga,” Ali responded, pointing into the boy’s restroom. “I say hi to My Digga,” he said again, indicating one of the boys now emerging into the hallway.
“Him, Ms. Tienda. He 'My Digga.' That him name,” Ali explained.
We all looked around to see who this ‘Digga’ could be. Grrr…I recognize him as a trouble-maker from another fourth-grade class.
“That LaRon! He from Ms. H class!” someone added. Mmm-hmph… I know who LaRon is.
“Yeah," Ali agreed. "He ‘My Digga’.” Ali again pointed to LaRon.
Meanwhile LaRon just kind of lingered, with a malicious smirk I just wanted to slap off his face. “Get back to class, LaRon,” I snarled at him.
I bent down to Ali’s level. “LaRon told you his name was ‘My Digga’?”
“Yes, Ms. Tienda. I say, ‘Whassup, My Digga.’”
Now Ali had established himself as a trouble-maker in his own right. Ali knows very well what the n-word is; he’s used it before in a negative context and suffered negative consequences because of it. So for someone devious like LaRon, this makes a boy like Ali—who has both a bad reputation and limited language—a prime target to set up.
And there’s the rub.
How do you tell a fourth grader, "Look, don’t trust LaRon. He’s f*ing with you"--but not in those words?
Sigh…
As a teacher, I'm limited in my language too.
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