I “helped out” in Thomas E’s Kindergarten-first grade classroom on Tuesday. The teacher quickly tried to explain my mission to me while the twenty or so students sat thinking of words that begin with “u” to use in their alphabet journals. They brainstormed and shot their hands in the air to be called on for their “u” word suggestions while another parent wrote their words on an easel holding that huge teacher paper that Paul Bunyan himself must have depleted an entire forest to supply.

There’s quite a range of abilities in the class, but not one student has yet mastered sitting and listening for longer than an irregular heartbeat. “Unconstitutional” was proposed by a particularly argumentative overachiever in the front row. “Um,” was suggested by one kid who looked as if he might have pulled a muscle thinking of it and was seconded and followed by a round of head-bobbing by his fellow students looking like birds on a crowded perch.

Not having much of an attention span myself, I took in my briefing as best I could. I was there for “centers,” which is when the students break up into groups of four or five and rotate from working on their letter journals to the silent reading couches to the math section to the reading-aloud-with-the-teacher table. On this day I was to man the math station. The teacher explained to me that I was supposed to play Pumpkin Bingo with them. I could hear that the other parent volunteer had said, “That’s great, but we already have ‘umbrella’,” four times, which meant my briefing on my pumpkin bingo job was going to be really brief.

"Here are the bingo cards. There won’t be enough for each kid, so you might want to use just one. Try to take the emphasis off winning. Thanks for doing this." the teacher said.

"You bet." I said and marched to my station.

I’ll confess to you now that, before my first group of four or five stampeded over, I secretly hoped that I had an untapped gift for teaching and that, with no training at all, I possessed something in my honest, down-to-earth, yet hopeful style that could cause a kid who wasn’t getting it at all before to suddenly shine with understanding of early math skills. I hoped that at least one kid would have the kind of breakthrough where you remember forever the moment that you learned some basic fact. For example, I only know left and right because Andrea Roessler, who was my age but much smarter and prettier and, let’s face it, better than me, was riding her bike down the driveway in front of me when we were about seven and she yelled back, “Which way should we turn?”

I had no idea, and we weren’t going anywhere in particular, so I yelled, “Left,” and I followed her.

I think of Andrea Roessler when I give or follow directions. I think of Andrea Roessler when I put flippers on my kids’ feet. That’s how I know left.

So now I was hoping that little Armando from Thomas E’s K-1 class would someday be piloting a rocket ship and, while dashing off some calculations necessary to the ship’s successful navigation, he’d think,

"Four plus one is five. Thomas E’s mom taught me that with patience, understanding, and pumpkin bingo in kindergarten."

"O.K., we’re going to put the paper pumpkin on the number when we get the answer from the math problem that we roll with the dice,” I began when it seemed I had as much of the first group’s attention as I was going to get.

ME: There are three dice. Two have numbers, and the third has a plus or minus sign on it, and we put it here in the middle to tell us if we add or take away the other number. Did you know that two dice are called “dice” and just one is called a “die”?

JACOB: I want the dices.

ARMANDO: I won!

ME: Let’s not worry about winning. We’ll just put the pumpkins on the numbers when we figure out the math problems, so we know what the number is, o.k.?

JACOB, ARMANDO, ZOE: I won!

ME: Jacob, why don’t you roll first.

ARMANDO: Hey, I didn’t get a turn.

ME: There’ve been no turns yet.

THOMAS E: Can I sit on your lap?

ME: No, because during the morning message I let you sit on my lap and you kept asking me the answers while your teacher was talking.

THOMAS E: Why wouldn’t you tell me the answer?

ME: Thomas E, because Ms. Suomu doesn’t need to know if I know the answer. She needs to know if you know the answer. Do you see any other kids sitting on their parent’s laps getting the answer?

COLBY: I sit on my Dad’s lap.

ME: Yes, but not while….

ZOE: I win!

ME: Don’t worry about winning. We haven’t rolled the dice yet. Jacob, could you please go ahead and roll the dice? It gets boring waiting while someone shakes the dice.

JACOB: Yaha!

ME: Jacob, now can you go get the dice? One landed over by the “California Kindergarten Standards” laminated posters. It’s right by number fifty-seven, “Students must be able to roll dice within three inches of the floor and drop them within a two-inch radius of an imaginary circle formed around their hand.”

(Jacob finally rolls)

Thank you, Jacob. Zoe, can you tell me what the two numbers and the symbol in the middle say?

ZOE: Five, one, three.

ME: It does look just like a one in the middle, huh? It’s actually a symbol, though, see? If you turn it sideways, it says five minus three. Do you see? If I have five things and I take away three, how many do I have left? Zoe?.. Jacob?… Colby?…. Thomas E, what do you think?

THOMAS E: Can I sit in your lap?

ME: No. O.K., the answer is two, see? If I put out five pumpkins….

ARMANDO: Hey, those are mine. I need those to win.

ME: I’m just borrowing them for a second. Don’t worry about winning. We’re just covering the numbers with the pumpkins for the sheer joy of it.

JACOB: I won!

ZOE: I didn’t get a turn.

ME: See, if I have five pumpkins and I take away, minus, subtract three, I have two. Or I could use these colorful manipulative squares. If I have five and I subtract three, I have two. Or I can use my fingers, see? Armando, can you please look at what we’re doing?

ARMANDO: I’m not really a visual learner.

ME: Zoe, can you roll the dice? Good. What does that math sentence say?

ZOE: Six, one, four.

ME: Actually that’s a symbol in the middle. It looks like a one, but if you turn it sideways…. See? It’s a minus sign. Can anybody tell me….

COLBY: I didn’t get a turn.

ME: What if we switch it to a plus sign? So, it’s six plus four. You guys know the pairs that make ten. Does anybody know what’s six plus four? Colby?

JACOB: He already had a turn. I didn’t get a turn. He got twenty-five percent of the turns and I only got eighteen percent of the turns. You’re unfair ninety-seven percent of the time.

THOMAS E: Mom, you have two bumps on your neck.

ME: That’s a jugular vein, honey.

THOMAS E: It’s sticking out.

ME: If I have two bumps on one side of my neck and two on the other, how many do I have?

TEACHER: O.K., it’s time to rotate.

ME: (Quietly to myself) Armando’s never going to make it back to Earth.