George Slade wrote me a few weeks ago, after seeing me on television. I did some quick math and realized he’s sixteen now, very grown up. He would probably be appalled by the fact that I keep his school picture, circa 2001, on my desk.
Three years ago, in honor of my last day at Goucher, I ran my all-time favorite article, the one I most enjoyed writing. It occurred to me that some new folks have started reading the blog since then, so here it is again, in honor of the coming summer — and George.
(c) Baltimore Sun, from June 2001.
George Slade is pretty sure this summer is going to be the best summer of his life, even better than last summer, which is his current best summer. For one thing, he is going to New York City for the first time. His cousins from Colorado are coming. He’s going to day camp and, of course, Ocean City. And when he’s not going anywhere, he has a baby sitter who comes to the house, which means he can play Freeze Tag and Television Tag and Clue with Nick and Kevin and Corey and Amanda and Stephanie and, every other weekend, Gregory.
Yes, this summer is going to be great – if only it would _start_. Because, right now, it is 3:10 p.m. – 15 minutes to freedom and five minutes to “Doom Day,” the moment when report cards are handed out. It is the last day of school at Hickory Elementary in Harford County and the school feels like a large can of wriggling, happy worms. George is the worm with light brown hair and dark brown eyes, sitting at the back of Cindy Stone’s fourth-grade class. Summer has been sneaking in for almost two weeks in the Baltimore metropolitan area as schools close for the season. First the private and parochial schools released their students, then a few public school systems. By tomorrow, all students will be free (except those who must attend summer school, alas).
Yesterday was Harford County’s turn. And, by extension, Hickory Elementary, and Mrs. Stone’s fourth grade, and George Slade, age 9. Well, 9 1/2 , as of June 2.
From George and his classmates’ perspective, the day is the usual six-plus hours of lessons and distractions, no different from the other 179. He and his squirming classmates don’t realize how carefully the faculty and staff of Hickory have orchestrated this day, providing a structure that allows for key moments of release, interspersed with quiet activities.
There are lessons, even a comprehension drill and a spelling bee. But there also is a movie, “The Phantom Tollbooth,” a surprise ice cream break and a talent show that ends with a surefire crowd-pleaser: Principal Michael Heiberger, backed by several faculty members, performs “Wild Thing.”
“They’re a little high today,” admits Mrs. Stone on the way back from the talent show. “They’re usually very sedate.”
For George, the day is sweet, yet tinged with sadness. He loves summer, but he’s going to miss school. “Some kids don’t like it, but I do. My favorite subject is math, because you think a lot.”
His hardest subjects are science and social studies. He got D’s in both on his last report card, but he studied hard this spring and he thinks, maybe, he brought those grades up.
Other things make this final day bittersweet. Mrs. Stone has announced she will be moving up to fifth grade, and her students will come with her, unless their parents choose otherwise. But George is changing schools next year, to Bel Air Elementary, because he has moved in with his father, who lives in that district, while his mother lives in Baltimore County.
George doesn’t mind transferring. He went to Bel Air from kindergarten through second grade. But leaving Hickory will mean leaving his best friend, Lauren McCormick, who sits one desk away from him. Megan Good, who sits between them, has passed many a note this year.
Lauren is his best friend because they have so much in common, George explains. “A best friend is someone who likes the same things. If you liked Britney Spears – I don’t, that’s just an example – if you liked Britney Spears, you would want your best friend to like Britney Spears.”
Lauren, for her part, says she likes George because “He’s a nice friend and a hard worker.”
But has he worked hard enough? That’s the question that’s plaguing George as he endures these final minutes. He would so like to make straight A’s, the way Ashley Gudenzi does. And if he can’t make straight A’s, he would like to get C’s in social studies and science, instead of D’s.
Fourth grade was _hard_. Mrs. Stone’s 22 students have learned rocks and minerals, supply and demand, latitude and longitude. They studied vocabulary words that could be used to describe people. Words such as arrogant, mischievous, observant and narrow-minded. They learned what immigrants are, and how Maryland came to be. (George was Father Andrew White in the Maryland Day play, a key role.)
With the help of a parent, the students even put together a scrapbook for Mrs. Stone, not knowing she would be coming with them to fifth grade. “Dear Mrs. Stone,” George wrote. “I enjoyed being in your class this year. … I am sorry this is Spice Girls [stationery] but this was all I had. Sorry. I really liked the book `The Secret Garden.’ I learned a lot! Your friend, George.”
3:15 – “Doom Day” is here. George, with a surname that falls near the end of the alphabet, is one of the last to get his grades. In Mrs. Stone’s class, students take their cards to a “secret spot,” then put them in their backpacks, vowing not to take them out on the bus, where they could fly away.
George unfolds the green card slowly. It’s good, better than he hoped. Not straight A’s, but social studies came up from a D to a C, science from a D to an A. All his other grades are A’s and B’s. He can’t wait to take this card home.
For now, finally, it’s time for the best summer ever. Which is not necessarily the perfect summer. On Monday, Mrs. Stone had her class write essays about what the perfect summer would be like, and George had a detailed list. He would go to Disney World and get on the ride that his dad’s friend told him about, the one that drops you 13 stories and makes it feel as if your stomach is going to fall out.
“And then my grandmother would give me $200 and I would buy a house for a person who doesn’t have one. And then, with what’s left over, I would buy Mrs. Stone a Mustang. And then, with what’s left over, I would have a sleep-over and we would go to the Hobbit [restaurant] and the video arcade and then everyone would get a T-shirt.”
But the perfect summer will have to wait. For now, he will settle for the best summer. So goodbye, Lauren; goodbye, Megan; goodbye, straight-A Ashley. Goodbye, Broch, Kimberly, Courtney, Casey and Julian. So long, Ryan, Robert, Samantha, Jacqueline, Christopher and Kyle. Hasta manana, Casey, Kaitlin, Gage, Michelle, Akoye, Jeffrey and Shelley.
Last but not least, goodbye, Mrs. Stone. Sometimes you were mean, but mostly you were nice. The Mustang will be in your favorite color, should George ever get that $200. Because George wants you to know he really, really liked the fourth grade. Especially math.
That’s great, Laura. I even got a little misty at the end there.
Yeah, fourth grade is about where everything made a distinct turn alright, heading away from a not knowing that you can never get back.
That’s precious..to be so full of joy and innocence…those were the days. Thanks for sharing again.
I really miss the days when I thought that $200 could buy everything in the world.
That was really great.
That was great! Thanks for sharing, Laura.
Wow.
I got misty too… and I am wondering is he still best friends with Lauren? And did Megan read the notes before passing them on?
I don’t know if Megan read the notes — excellent question.
A little background on this story: I had met George on another assignment; he was reading the latest Harry Potter while is grandmother shopped for bags and shoes at a big sale. He clearly longed to be in the newspaper, but I couldn’t find a way to shoehorn him into my story. So I came up with a story that would be built around George.
There’s a lot of bureacracy when reporting on schools. I had to get permission to interview and/or photograph every kid in George’s class. I didn’t have to name them all, but I thought they would get a kick out of it. I met with George a few days before the end of school and got much of the life story stuff — what he planned to do that summer, his fears about his grades, why he was switching schools. But the story was written on a pretty tight deadline. I wrote about two-thirds of it on my laptop, while the students were watching their movie, knowing that the end would be built around George’s report card, good or bad. I then drove back to the office, which was at least 30 minutes away, and wrote the last few paragraphs, and filed it by 5 p.m.
Laura: You made me wish I was still a school teacher. Sigh..I miss the kids the most, NOT the administrators. I had the bad luck to have stickinthemuds most times. When I got a creative one, they were always about to retire.
I set up a writer’s seminar the day before Sleuthfest in 2001..and the principal wouldn’t let me have it for the whole school. He looked down his pointy big nose at me and said (almost a direct quote) “You can’t handle the set up or the discipline.” What he didn’t know is that the kids were fine for me; it was when HE came into the room they got antsy. He had forgotten what it was like to be excited about learning. If the kids weren’t SEATED and WRITING they weren’t LEARNING. Sigh…
By the by, the seminar ended up being in my classroom, for all MY classes, AND for all the teachers’ classes who shuck their kids in when they could do it without the old stickinthemud figuring it out. (snicker) And it went great! Matter of fact, at the end of the day all 3 writers who came looked at me, and one of them said, “and you do this ALL DAY? EVERY day?” I nodded. She said, “I don’t have that kind of energy.”
I said, “The kids give me energy.!”
I miss the teaching, I miss their eyes lighting up when they finally figured something out.
Teachers make way too little money for the influence they have.
And, Laura, that article shows why you were and are one of the best writers I’ve ever read, or met.
See you at Bcon in 08!
Yeah, can we have an update on George?
Thank you, Laura. What a lovely Story. And I enjoyed Becky’s posting as well.
My son Sam is 10 and in 4th Grade here in Granville. It has been a great year (so far) and my wife and I have continued to be impressed by the dedication and quality of men and women (mostly women, I guess) who teach the 5th Grade and under classes. Both in Maryland, where we lived until last August, and here in Ohio. And, we are also blown away by how “grown up” the 4th graders of 2007 are in comparison to my memories of 4th grade in 1964 for me and 1971 for my wife.
We are hoping that Sam’s teacher, Mrs. Thomas will move up to fifth grade next year just like Mrs. Stone.
Hey Guys,
its me george from the article.
yeah, like Laura said i will be 16 this year in December. Also, 4th grade was the year ive been on top of my grades, and luckily, ive been on the Honor Roll since 6th grade. Currently, i have a 3.8 GPA for the second semester for 10th grade. So ive proven myself and such to be a good student! =) I Love this article and Laura is soo talented!! =)
—George
All I know is that George checked in, via e-mail, said he was well and hoped I was doing well. I was really touched because it meant he didn’t disavow the version of his 9-year-old self, that he wasn’t embarrassed by the piece.
George: Congratulations! And keep up the good work.
And yep, Laura rules.
Did anyone else tear up when reading George’s post?
this is the all-time best idea for an article ever. I wish the entire newspaper were filled with these kinds of stories. These are much more uplifting and heartwarming than what’s usually in there.
and it’s true, on top of that! It’s all true.
Christin,
I’m not necessarily for uplift, being a pretty hardboiled type and all. But — I did think that newspapers spent a lot of column inches on things like Survivor (watched by, what, maybe 1-in-5 Americans at its height, and that’s probably pretty generous) while giving short shrift to universal things. I was the oddball who actually liked writing about the weather and holidays because those things affected everyone. (Even if you don’t observe a certain holiday, it will affect you somehow.) I’m one of the lowest of the lowbrows, but I’d be at a loss during most so-called water cooler conversations. I’ve never seen 24 or Grey’s Anatomy. Or House. Or Heroes. Not a knock on those shows; I have commitment issues.
But American lives are full of universal rituals. Not everyone has a bar mitzvah — a ritual VERY much on my mind this week — but almost every American household has some rite-of-passage observance — sweet sixteen, quincenera, etc. I was one of those feature writers who believed that everyone has a story. I didn’t believe you could necessarily get it out of him or her, however.
Oh I loved this, Laura!!
Evan’s only got about nine days of 4th grade left. Last night was the big middle school orientation. He looks so LITTLE in those big hallways! He would think I was a total sap for getting misty-eyed about George (“Mom, you canNOT cry where my friends can see you” was his line when I got sappy the last time) but I couldn’t help it.
Thanks, Laura!
Hey Guys It George Again!
the comments are soo nice! =]
thanks guys.
schools almost out and i just started my job today! the first job of my life.
i bathe, brush, and dry dogs!
it’s soo hard, but i wont give up!
i hope i get straight A’s this quarter for my report card i think i will though!
=)
byee!