My Lunches with Nicole

What do you do when you're a bleeding heart liberal and the company you work for asks for volunteers to read to students during one lunch hour per week? You sign up, that's what you do. Cue the heart-warming violin music that plays while you dream of sharing a meaningful and life-changing, one-on-one relationship with a third-grade student.

Before being introduced to "my" student, I eagerly attend the training class where I learn I'll have to pass a security review. I'm also told never to unnecessarily touch my student, bring her presents or spend any time alone with her. OK, I shrug, this is all perfectly understandable, and I determine not to let these things get in the way of the time I'll spend sharing my love of books and a lifetime of reading with a young, book-loving girl.

I eagerly anticipate finally laying eyes on Nicole. I'm told that I may bring books that were meaningful to me if I'd like, to encourage conversation and bonding. "Little Women" comes to mind - but I wonder if that's suitable for a nine-year-old?

Finally, the big day comes. I wait in the elementary school hallway where hordes of children run screaming past me. Wha..? The nuns at Our Lady of Sacred Heart would not have allowed such behavior. Hrrmmph, I think, my Nicole will be much better behaved than these hellions certainly.

She finally arrives. She's taller than I thought she'd be, and there's no smile to be seen when we meet. And, as we make our way to the lunchroom, she seems to know everyone we pass. While Nicole ignores me for the most part, she notices everything else that's going on in her surroundings. She greets each teacher and half the students. Although we pass fairly quickly through the cafeteria line, I'm amazed at how much time Nicole can waste. She decides we should go to the library to find a book. I agree, not realizing that the library is at the opposite end of the school. I worry that we might be spending too much time alone, but I quickly find that there's NO PLACE in the school to be alone: the place pulsates with activity.

It's fairly obvious that Nicole looks at this lunchtime meeting as a way to wrap an adult around her finger. She even admits without the slightest bit of hesitation that she is participating in this voluntary program to avoid math class. (Finally! I have something in common with her!) On the other hand, when she chooses books, she clearly picks ones that are clearly below her reading level. When we finally settle down to read, the words pour out of me as quickly as I can say them, but I notice that she spends a lot of time staring out the window. At one point, I stop reading altogether and it takes her a full 30 seconds (which is an awfully long silence actually) to notice that I've stopped speaking.

We've had three sessions so far, Nicole and me, none of them turning into the bonding experience I had let myself believe might happen. But I've spoken to the program coordinator about our problems. Mrs. B tells me she'll talk to Nicole (and her mother, who happens to be a personal friend of hers) to see whether she really wants to continue with the program.

While I'm secretly hoping Nicole moves along, the parents reading this are probably roaring with laughter. My frustrating experience with Nicole is for 45 minutes per week - I can't imagine dealing with this 24-hours per day for 18+ years.

I applaud teachers and parents - you truly do important work. But I'm still hoping I can trade Nicole in on that sweet, smiling bookworm. I can dream, right?