Chapter Two ----- Shakespeare By Way of Ecuador

Raul Sanchez-Ruiz is part of an Ecuadorean familial contingent that first enrolled in the New Salem Educational Initiative in spring 2009. First came three cousins in a nuclear family superintended by Ronda Sanchez and Miguel Ruiz; then came three other cousins in the nuclear family of which Monica Sanchez is mom and Antonio Benitez is dad. Raul’s mom, Flora, observed my work with these relatives of hers and asked that I help her own son, who was badly failing Grade 6 math at the time.

Raul quickly recovered enough to achieve “B” grades in math through his middle school years. He is not a naturally gifted math student and, lacking the academic weight and ballast that comes with participation in the New Salem Educational Initiative from the beginning of the K-12 experience, Raul wages a never-ending battle to review concepts that should have long-since been internalized by Grade 6, recover the concepts learned during the Grade 6-8 middle school years, and take on the challenging new concepts that come with the high school sequence of algebra, geometry, trigonometry, and calculus.

Raul occasionally tracks backward toward a “C” and even “D,” but then we right the course again so that he moves back into “B” country, and every so often rises toward an “A.” With my ongoing support, Raul knows that he will always make the grade in math, so that the unnerving struggle in this subject will never be so severe as to undermine his efforts in subjects for which he manifests much more obvious gifts.

Raul inevitably wins awards at the Annual New Salem Educational Initiative Banquet with nomenclature such as, “Genuine Intellectual.” And indeed, Raul is one of the very most naturally, unpretentiously, intellectual students whom I have had in my forty years of teaching. Our conversations to and from New Salem Missionary Baptist Church, where our weekly academic sessions are held, feature questions from Raul such as the following.

“Hey, you’ve written some books, right? How do you go about getting a book published?  How was Texas?” (This question tendered after I returned from a visit to look in on my 91 year-old mom in Dallas.)

“Say, I read somewhere that Texas was its own republic once. What exactly is a republic? Why didn’t Texas just stay its own nation?”

“Wow, look, it’s snowing. Hey, what exactly is the difference between sleet and snow?’

On and on his questions go. One glorious afternoon, Raul asked me some questions about Shakespeare, which led in turn to my putting a copy of Hamlet in his hands. Raul has since read that work on his own and then with me. He has also read A Midsummer Night’s Dream and King Lear with me, attending professional productions of all three of the works of reference along with students whom I took to such venues as the Great River Shakespeare Festival (Winona) and The Jungle Theater (the Uptown area of Minneapolis). And on his own he has read Macbeth, which he describes as “My favorite book of all-time.”

Raul has established a very strong connection to me as teacher and mentor. He regularly expresses gratitude for what he has learned about academics and life under my guidance. Raul is a bit scattered in the way that intensely intellectual people sometimes are, so it was not particularly surprising that he had forgotten our mid-afternoon meeting on this Saturday, September 29, 2012. But I was taken aback by what Raul’s sisters had to tell me when I arrived to pick Raul up at 2:45 on that Saturday afternoon.
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Raul has an older brother in his middle twenties and a little brother (Felipe) who is now in Grade 1 (I am currently trying to find a suitable time in my schedule to meet the family’s request that I work with Felipe). He also has two sisters, Melinda (age 22) and Isabel (age 24). I regularly talk to these two, especially when my humble Spanish comes short in conveying what I would like fully to tell Flora about her son’s academic progress. These two were both at home and very apologetic when Raul was not present upon my arrival.

I said that he really should remember that the mid-afternoon session is a fixture but that since I was newly returned from Dallas, I understood how Raul might have been thrown off temporal rhythm.

Then Melinda and Isabel began to convey to me that this was not just normal forgetfulness in the genuine intellectual. Raul, they told me, had been acting obstinate of late, neglecting his household chores, going off for long stretches without making clear where he was going, and sometimes saying he was going to a particular place but then being absent when they would call and check as to his whereabouts. This was a new Raul for me. His nuclear family was very tight, and Raul had always expressed reverence for his mom.

Raul’s mom and dad work different and odd hours at factory labor, a situation that I have witnessed as leading to enhanced rambling in adolescents. But I had not come to expect such behavior from Raul. I thanked Melinda and Isabel for telling me of their concerns, and I assured them that I would look in on Raul later in the upcoming week.

I did in fact go by the house (located on Madison Street, north of Lowry in Northeast Minneapolis) on Monday night and found Raul at home. I asked him why he had forgotten our academic session the previous Saturday, and he cited some confusion about when I was returning from Dallas. I reminded him that I had told him that I would just be gone for one Saturday. He was apologetic and said that he should have remembered. I said that his absence at the appointed time was not nearly as big a concern as my disturbance at being told about his recent unexpected behavior by Melinda and Isabel. I asked him if their account was true.

Raul admitted to most of what Melinda and Isabel had to tell me, but he told me that he had acted the way he had because he was mad at them for a certain (unspecified) reason.

I asked, “So that’s why you went off without being clear as to where you were going?”

“Yeah,” he replied. “

"And why you didn’t do your chores around the house?” “Uh-huh,” he returned.

“So in your view, these have been isolated incidents that you won’t repeat? You were just mad at Melinda and Isabel and this was your way of getting back at them?”

“Yeah,” he said.

“Raul, you remember how I told you that colleges look most closely at your sophomore and junior years? This is not the time to be playing around and messing with your future. You’ve got to be at the top of your game. Our weekly sessions are a big part of keeping you there, don’t you think?’

“Yeah.”

“I’m not listening for a ‘yeah’ on this one.”

“Yes sir.”

“Well, that is a better way to reply to an adult, but what I really mean is that you need to understand that futures are made and broken at this time in your life. We have envisioned a future for you that may include being a photojournalist. You have enormous intellectual curiosity and talent. You can succeed on my college preparatory track, go on to achievement in college, get your degree, and be on the way to a better life. You want that don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Really?”

“Yes sir, very much.”

“Then you’ll be more responsible at home, right? You won’t worry your parents and sisters with idle ramblings? You’ll be here when I come to get you next Saturday?”

“Yes, I’ll have a better week.”

“Okay, go get Melinda for me,” I said as we wrapped up our heart to heart.

I told Melinda, who was the only older family member at home on that Monday evening, about the conversation that Raul and I had just had. She was profuse in her thanks, and she told me that she would call me if she or others at home had any concerns in the course of the week.

“Great. Well, I’ll be getting on now,” I said. “But I did want you to know that Raul and I had the talk and that I came by, as I said I would.”

“You always do,” Melinda replied. “And we thank you so much for coming by, and for all that you’ve done for Raul.”

“You’re very welcome, and I thank you in turn for being so concerned about your brother. And I know that in his heart he is thankful for the love and support that he gets at home.”

I turned to go, heading for the door of the screened-in porch where these conversations had ensued. I felt a tap on my back. I turned around. Raul was there, extending his hand.

“I really appreciate you coming by,” he said with a sincerity that pierced a big hole in my heart. “And I’ll be looking forward to seeing you next Saturday.”