Vamonos vaquero!

 When PIXAR released the hard-hitting, 3rd instalment of the Toy Story series, I figured we were in for another wonderful ride of emotions as Woody and the Roundup gang grew older. Little did I know that this would turn into a complete tear-jerker. The entire Kirby Krew was quite literally at the edge of our seats as Lotso Huggin' Bear played the heel to our aging toy heroes. With tears welling in our eyes, we watched as the blazing inferno of rubbish beckoned the final demise of the entire cast of lovable characters. Watching the incinerator scene on the big screen felt like potential child abuse. The year was 2010. Emma was 5. Logan was 3. Lucky for us and the rest of the Free World, the Aliens and their deft Claw-work plucked the Toys out at just the right moment. 

As traumatizing as this whole experience could have been, it's not what I remember most about Toy Story 3. What could be better or worse than the fiery on screen climax of an American Classic, you ask?

Buzz Lightyear has a Spanish Mode! 

Not only does Buzz protect the galaxy from the threat of invasion but he is multi-lingual. In TS3, that evil villain, Lots O' Huggin' Bear, has Buzz switched back to his factory settings, causing all kinds of havoc in the Sunnyside Daycare facility in which the rest of the toys had been tossed into purgatory. Woody and his pals are able to restrain the evil Buzz but accidentally re-set him to Spanish Mode when T-Rex inadvertently leaves a button depressed for too long. The result is Comic Gold.

Oro.

El Buzzo was a major hit. Jesse and the ladies loved his Spanish flair - Ricky Martin in a spacesuit. I laughed my butt off - not because I had any flair but like my favorite space crusader - I too have a SPANISH MODE! 

Si, es verdad. Este gringo hablan Español mas de un poquito.

(Yes, it's true. This white boy speaks more than a little bit of Spanish)

Some may see this Spanish Mode of mine as inexplicable. I understand that seeing a barrel chested guy with an orange beard speak in an otherwise foreign language is not something you see everyday. It's actually quite understandable how it all happened. 

I was born in Aurora, Illinois about 45 minutes southwest of the Windy City. Although I attended portions of grade school in both Minnesota and Illinois, the majority of my sentence was served at Bardwell Elementary in East Aurora. Let's just say that there's a little more ethnic diversity in the suburbs of Chicago than there is in the Northwoods of Minnesota. At any rate, I do remember at some point my grandfather advised me to learn Spanish. I don't know if his motive was cautionary or forward thinking but I doubt that he could ever envision me needing Español in white-bread, middle, Minnesota.

Because of Big Paul's foresight and Senora Reynold's exciting junior high classroom, my journey on Spanish language acquisition began in 7th grade. I actually ended up taking 4 years of Spanish class in Illinois before moving to Minnesota to finish high school. There I was begged to do independent study with Senorita Tureen because she had never seen a student at the Canadian border with as much training as I came with. I couldn't run away from that request fast enough. But my Spanish language journey continued a few years later at Marine Bootcamp San Diego when a pile of Latin American recruits used Spanglish as their secretive way to communicate as the 1993 "Code Talkers" of Platoon 1042. On the peripheral, I picked up on their conversations and when I eventually let on that Yo Hablo , I immediately had a new Band of Brothers. The light brown Marine recruits immediately accepted the pale skinned Vato and together we finished recruit training. Stationed in southern California with easy access to Tijuana proved to me that taking Grandpa Paul's advice was worth it. For the next 4 years, the Marine Corps melting pot may have been where my second language stuck because I used it periodically, albeit it, most times to order a drink, ask directions, barter a trade or beg a senorita to dance. 

Post USMC, my next opportunity to practice the Latin language of love came when mi nueva esposa took me to Cozumel on our Honeymoon. In 21 years of marriage, we've traveled together to Mexico just 2 more times but each time I've revelled in the chance to be a middling translator for mi hermosa esposa.

Over the years, I've interjected occasional Spanish words here and there in the classroom only to spark interest or illicit a smile from the fairly pastel students I teach. A few times I've been called to the office to help translate for a sick little one that needs to go home but her parents don't speak English nor do any of the office staff speak Spanish. One time I was called on to translate a summer school release form for a family struggling to assimilate. Mostly my Spanish has become a diminishing skill. That is until this year.

In the middle of December, Rush City became home to a new family that came to us straight from Mexico. The success of a local eatery called Fiesta Cancun has been a welcome addition to our sleepy little farm town. Their need for additional help has been answered by friends and family from the south looking to start their own American Dream. For this particular family, steady income and a new start in the land of opportunity came with a major language barrier. Neither Mom nor Dad spoke English and they brought with them their youngest child, Eduardo, who also No Habla.

Therein lied the challenge. Rush City Schools is attractive because of its small town charm in spite of  its relative lack of racial diversity. Unfortunately, we do not have regular English Language Learners course offerings nor do we have the supports necessary to provide an adequate education for non-English speaking students. However, we can be a very welcoming community and as a staff here we are generally supportive of professional challenges. When our Principal approached me as our best and only option for Eduardo, I accepted. 

Porque Pablito es el unico maestro de Rush City que habla Espanol. 

(Because, Little Paul is the only teacher in Rush City that speaks Spanish.)

With the help of some great colleagues and a "can-do" attitude we've made this family's transition to central Minnesota a little less stressful. Just this week I met Eduardo's parents at conferences and with the help of a professional translator, we've all agreed that he's come so far and learned so much in just 2 and a half short months. He works hard. His classmates are learning just as quickly as he is. We've all learned about perseverance, adversity, positivity and empathy...all great lessons sometimes overlooked in the fast paced world of Standardized Testing and Learning Objectives. I am proud of the work that we've done.

I am proud of my Spanish Mode - porque todo va bien. (because everything is good.)