LA MORENITA, Chapter 10

A year after leaving group therapy, Maria’s mental condition improved considerably. During that year, Maria had been able to help three other group members, since Charlie had told the woman who had been a violin prodigy how Maria’s curandera treatment had helped him overcome his problems, and she—the prodigy—came to Maria for help. After the violin prodigy got better, she told two others who were also helped by the bitter herbal concoction and prayers. The word even got back to Curt, who had only three people left in his group therapy sessions. He called Maria at home to tell her to stop trying to minister to his clients. “You are not a profes-
sional,” he said. “You have no idea what you are doing, and anything that goes wrong with them is your fault.”
Maria’s success in helping her fellow group therapy clients gave her such confidence that she laughed and said, “Are you angry, Curt?”
“Yes!” he affirmed. “I am angry!”
“Go with that,” she said and hung up the phone.
By the first of May, when Araceli was due to be assigned to a new class for the following school year, Maria gathered up her new confidence and confronted Norm about ignoring his daughter’s needs. At first, he argued that, since Maria was Mexican, she, of all people, should understand that daughters are less important than sons. But Maria was persistent. Two months later, an electrician out at the 200 East area told Norm about an excellent fourth grade teacher named Mrs. Nelson. The electrician said the woman had high standards and knew how to motivate students. Armed with this information, Norm went home and convinced Maria to go with him to school the next morning and talk to the principal. Norm didn’t like Maria’s accusation dangling next to his head like a wrecking ball. He was determined to put it to rest by convincing Maria he was willing to fight for his daughter’s right to an education, so he barged into the principal’s outer office one morning, pulling Maria along by the elbow faster than she wanted to walk. “I demand to speak to the principal!” he roared.
An older woman with grey-blonde hair, a pleasant smile and blue-green tortoise shell glasses came over immediately. “Do you have an appointment?” she asked.
“Hell, no!” Norm shouted. “I don’t need an appointment! “I’m a goddam taxpayer!”
The woman stared hard at Norm, taking in his tee-shirt, his heavy-duty overalls and the Mexican woman he had in tow. “Principal Diggs is a little tied up right now,” she said.
“Would Principal Diggs be tied up right now if there was an emergency?” he said in a loud voice.
“Of course not,” the woman said.
“Then you go in there and tell that asshole he has an emergency!”
Just then, the principal’s door opened a crack. “What’s going on, Delia?” the principal asked.
“This man says he needs to see you immediately. He says it’s an emergency.”
The door opened wider, and a short, thin, balding man appeared. The man wore a light grey suit, a solid red tie, and wire-rimmed glasses. His demeanor appeared to be somewhere between flustered and pleasant. He extended his hand. “I—I’m Dave Diggs,” he said. “How may I help you?”
Norm squeezed the hand and shook it vigorously. “I’m Norm Schmidt,” he said. “This is my wife, Maria. I’m having some very bad feelings about what’s happening to my daughter.”
After Norm released his grip, Principal Diggs wiggled his hand around and rubbed it. “Come in,” he said. “Have a seat.”
Norm sat and waited for the principal to slide the papers on his desk into a manilla folder. When Diggs completed this action and made eye contact, Norm continued. “Although my daughter reads somewhere beyond the eighth grade level, she’s being kept in the lowest reading group ever since she got into this school. What the hell’s that all about?”
“Has your daughter been tested for reading level yet?” Diggs asked.
Norm looked at Maria, who shook her head no.
Diggs looked puzzled. “How do you know she reads beyond the eighth grade level?”
“I’m just telling you what my daughter’s teacher told my wife.”
“So your daughter’s in what grade?”
“She’s in third grade. She’ll be in fourth grade next year.”
“And you’re just coming to me with this problem now?”
“That’s right,” Norm said. “That’s because I just found out myself. My wife told me this morning.” Norm turned and made a show of looking at Maria accusingly.
Diggs looked at Maria, who was looking out of the side window. He assumed she averted her eyes because she was ashamed. In reality, she had turned away because she was furious at Norm for lying.
Diggs settled back in his chair and made a steeple with his fingers. “I’m very sorry about this,” he said. “In fact, I’m more than sorry. I’m shocked.”
“Yeah, well. You ought to be.”
Diggs sat up and met Norm’s gaze with a hard gaze of his own. “Do you know what the last book she read was?”
“It was—it was—.” Norm gestured toward Maria.
Maria looked directly at Norm, then made eye contact with the principal. “I can’t remember the name of it, but it was written by a man named Saroyan.”
Digg’s smooth forehead took on wrinkles as his eyes got smaller. He didn’t say anything for a while. Then he said, “I can fix this situation. We’ll be testing your daughter’s reading speed and comprehension before this next year is over.” he said. “And I guarantee you this. I will personally contact you with the results. Since we don’t have reading groups in the fourth grade, there’s nothing I can do about moving her up to a new group.”
“That’s not all I’m concerned about,” Norm said.
Maria turned on Norm. “We’re concerned about,” she corrected him. “We’re both concerned about.” Her anger added a soft tremolo to her voice.
“All right,” Diggs said. “What is your other concern?”
Norm leaned forward. “I’m sick and tired of my daughter being treated like some damn wetback just because she looks like her mother. I’m not a migrant farm worker. I’m a Hanford worker. And my daughter’s not just some average student with average intelligence. I’m not going to put up with your school treating any member of my family the way my daughter has
been treated.”
“If there’s been any racist behavior on the part of the students, I’m sure our teachers responded to it immediately,” Diggs answered.
“I’m not talking about the students,” Norm said, raising his voice. “I’m talking about the teachers.”
“The teachers?”
“Yes,” Maria said softly. “They ignore her. They don’t call on her in class. They don’t do anything to encourage her.”
“I can’t believe our teachers acted that way,” Diggs said.
“Mrs. Bear was very nice when I met her,” Maria said.
Now it was Norm’s turn to glare at Maria.
“So one teacher out of three was kind to my daughter,” Norm said. “And you kept her in the dumbest reading group, even though anyone with an I.Q. of a small dog can see how smart she is. What kind of shit is that? You owe me, Diggs. You need to make a correction here to get my daughter back up to where she should be.”
Diggs stood up. “I see,” he said slowly. “And what correction would you suggest, Mr. Schmidt?”
“Everyone knows your best fourth grade teacher is Mrs. Nelson,” Norm said. “You just make sure my daughter gets into her class.”
“I can do that,” Diggs said so softly it was barely audible.
“What?”
“I can do that,” Diggs said in a much louder voice. “Although what you propose may have the exact opposite effect. Mrs. Nelson is a tenured teacher who gets to choose who comes into her class. It’s only occasionally that I ever over-rule a tenured teacher, and most of the time I don’t, because tenured teachers don’t like to be told what to do, any more than you do, Mr. Schmidt. But I will honor your wishes, and we’ll let the chips fall where they may.”
Norm folded his arms across his chest. “Fine by me,” he said.
“You also need to keep in mind I can do a lot of other things, too,” Diggs added.
Norm let his arms drop to his sides and leaned forward. “What do you mean by that?”
“I mean this: the next time you come into my outer office without an appointment and carry on in the belligerent tone you used today, I’ll call the police and have you arrested for simple assault.”
“Simple assault?”
“That’s right. That’s what the Registered Codes for the State of Washington call the kind of verbal abuse you used today. And if that doesn’t do the trick, I’ll add disturbing the peace for good measure.” Diggs paused awhile to let his words sink in. “Now, I can certainly say that you have made yourself clear during this visit. What I want to know is have I made myself perfectly clear to you?”
Norm rose from his chair and was about to say something when Maria elbowed him—hard—in the side. He looked at her and didn’t say anything for a while. Then he glanced back at Diggs and nodded.
When Araceli got home from school, Maria told her how her father fought for her in the principal’s office. Later that night, when Araceli heard Norm’s car pull into the driveway, she went into the living room and stood by his chair. She stood there for a half-hour, waiting for the
right moment to thank him. Meanwhile, he kept reading his newspaper. He never acknowledged her presence.