48- Spanish Call

Josh and Taylor were back at school today. Taylor came in early with a somber apology for both me and Robbie. Josh came in as his usual defiant self; he refused to stand for the Pledge of Allegiance and when I finally got him up, he recited some derogatory poem about Michael Jackson.
Friday is Conference Day, a day where parents come in to discuss the academic progress of their children. Students have this day off from school. My goal is to confer with every parent. This is ambitious, but I am determined to try. Predictably, most of the stay-at-home moms have already signed up for a conference time. A handful of other parents have also planned to take time away from work to come in for a conference. A few neurotic parents even signed up for two conference sessions, “just in case we need more time.” I have arranged for several telephone conferences, and have diligently been trying to track down the non-responsive parents.
After school today I received an unusual phone call. While sitting at my computer, frantically entering last minute comments for Report Cards, I heard my classroom telephone ring.
“Hello?” I answer, expecting it to be another teacher calling to borrow something. Instead, my greeting is returned by the small, squeaky voice of a child.
“Hi. Is this Ms. Teacher?” The child’s voice is thick with a Cuban accent.
Perplexed, I answer, “Yes… Who is this?”
The child boldly identified herself, “I am Maria, Yocelin’s sister. My mamma asked me to call you. She can’t speak no English, yet.” I heard muffled sounds, like the girl had set down the phone. I could hear a muffled exchange of words in Spanish, and then Maria was back on the phone. “My mamma, she want to talk about Yocelin. About school stuff.”
Talk about Yocelin? School stuff?
I could only assume that the child was returning my phone call about Conference Day for her mother. I felt a little confused and before I could stop myself, I blurted out, “How old are you?”
“Four and three quarters,” the child proudly announced. “My birthday is January 3rd. Is Yocelin in trouble? Did she do something bad? Yesterday she pulled my hair, so mamma sent her to her room. Ha!”
“No. Yocelin is not in trouble. Please ask your Mom if she would like to come to school and talk to me this Friday.”
Was I really trying to talk school business with a four year old?
I waited.
After more muffled conversation, Maria returned with a response. “What time?” she asked.
“Eleven forty-five.”
“Doce menos quarto.” The girl relayed to her mother. I was impressed; the kid would make a great interpreter. “Okay!” Maria squeaked into the phone. “We will see you Friday. Adios!”
“Bye.” I hung up the phone.
We?
I guess it did make sense that the mother bring her interpreter to our conference. I have the feeling that Friday is going to be an eye- opening kind of day.