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Timmy: Wow, this food looks good. I’m hungry. Dad: Let’s go inside. Dad: What do you want to eat? Timmy: I want a burger and some fries. Dad: Do you want anything else? Timmy: I also want an ice cream. Waiter: Are you ready to order? Dad: Yes, we are. We want three burgers, fries, and one ice cream.

Name: Marco Ramirez - “I Am Not Batman” TW: language It’s the middle of the night. And the sky is glowing like mad radioactive red. And if you squint, you could maybe see the moon through a thick layer of cigarette smoke and airplane exhaust that covers the entire city like mosquito net that won’t let the angels in. And if you look up high enough you could see me-standing on the edge of a eighty seven story building. And up there-a place for gargoyles and broken clock towers that have stayed still and dead for maybe like a hundred years-up there is me. And I’m freakin Batman. And I gots Bat-mobiles and Bat-a-rangs and freakin Bat-caves like for real, and all it takes is a broom closet or a back room or a fire escape and Danny’s hand-me-down jeans are gone. And my navy blue polo shirt? – The one that looks kinda good on me but has a hole on it near the butt from when it got snagged on the chain linked fence behind Arturo’s but it isn’t even a big deal cause I tuck that part in and its like all good? –that blue polo shirt? – It’s gone too. And I get like, like transformational. And nobody pulls out a belt and whips Batman for talking back –-Or for not talking back –And nobody calls Batman simple –- Or stupid –- Or skinny –- And nobody fires Batman’s brother from the Eastern Taxi Company ‘cause they was making cutbacks, neither, ‘cause they got nothing but respect, and not like afraid-respect. Just like respect-respect. ‘Cause nobody’s afraid of you. Cause Batman doesn’t mean nobody harm. Ever. Cause all Batman really wants to do is save people and maybe pay Abuela’s bills one day and die happy and maybe get like mad famous. For real.…And kill the Joker. Tonight, like most nights, I’m all alone. And I’m watching…And I’m waiting… Like a eagle. Or like a –no, yea, like a eagle. And my cape is flappin’ in the wind (‘cause it’s freakin’ long), and my pointy ears are on, and that mask that covers like half my face is on too, and I got like bulletproof stuff all in my chest so no one could hurt me and nobody – nobody – is gonna come between Batman, And Justice. From where I am I could hear everything. Somewhere in the city there’s a old lady picking Styrofoam leftovers up outta a trash can and she’s putting a piece of sesame chicken someone spit out into her own mouth. And somewhere there’s a doctor with a whack haircut in a black lab coat trying to find a cure for the diseases that are gonna make us all extinct for real one day. And somewhere there’s a man, a man in a janitor’s uniform, stumbling home drunk and dizzy after spending half his paycheck on forty-ounce bottles of twist-off beer and the other half on a four hour visit to some lady’s house on a street where the lights have all been shot out by people who’d rather do what they do, in this city, in the dark. And half a block away from JanitorMan there’s a group of good-for-nothings who don’t know no better waiting to beat JanitorMan with rusted bicycle chains and imitation Lousiville Sluggers, and if they don’t find a cent on him – which they won’t – they’ll just pound at him till the muscles in their arms start burning, till there’s no more teeth to crack out. But they don’t count on me. They don’t count on no dark night (with a stomach full of grocery store brand macaroni-and-cheese and cut up Vienna sausages), Cause they’d rather believe I don’t exist, And from eighty-seven stories up I could hear one of the good-for-nothings say “Gimmethecash” real fast (like that) just “Gimmethefuckingcash” and I see JAnitorMan mumble something in drunk language and turn pale and from eighty-seven stories up I could hear his stomach trying to hurl its way out of his Dickies. So I swoop down like and fast and I’m like darkness. I’m like SWOOSH –- And I throw a Bat-a-rang at the one naked lightbulb –- And they’re all like “whoa-motherfucker-who-just-turned-out-the-lights?” –“What’s that over there?” –-“What?” –- “Gimme whatchou got old man” –- “Did anybody hear that?!” –- “No, really” –- “There ain’t. No. Bat.” – But then –- One out of three good-for-nothings gets it to the head! And number Two swings blindly into the dark cape before him but before his fist hits anything I grab a trash can lid and –-- Right into the gut, and number One comes back with a jump-kick but I know judo-karate too so I’m like –-- Twice –-- but before I can do any more damage suddenly we all hear a CLIC – CLIC –And suddenly everything gets quiet And the one good-for-nothing left standing grips a handgun and aims straight up, like he’s holding Jesus hostage, like he’s threatening maybe to blow a hole in the moon. And the good-for-nothing who got it to the head who tried to jump-kick me and the other good-for-nothing who got it in the gut is both scrambling back away from the dark figure before him. And the drunk man the JanitorMan is huddled in a corner, praying to Saint Anthony ‘cause that’s the only one he could remember. And there’s me, Eyes glowing white, cape blowing softly in the wind. Bulletporoof chest heaving. My heart beating right through it in a Morse code for “fuck with me, just once, come on, just try.” And the one good-for-nothing left standing, the one with the handgun, he laughs he lowers his arm, and he points it at me and gives the moon a break, and he aims it right between my pointy ears, like goalposts and he’s special teams. And JanitorMan is still calling Saint Anthony but he ain’t pickin’ up, And for a second it seems like…maybe I’m gonna lose. Naw. SHOO – SHOO! FUACATA! --“Don’t kill me man!” –“SNAP! – Wrist CRACK – Neck – SLASH! – Skin – meets – acid – “AHH!!” –And he’s on the floor. And I’m standing over him. And I got the gun in MY hands now. And I hate guns, I hate holding ‘em cause I’m Batman, and –Batman don’t like guns ‘cause his parents got iced by guns a long time ago – but for just a second, my eyes glow white, and I hold this thing, for I could speak to the good-for-nothing in a language he maybe understands…CLIC – CLIC…And the good-for-nothings become good-for-disappearing into whatever toxic-waste-chemical-sludge-shit-hole they crawled out of. And it’s just me and JanitorMan. And I pick him up. And I wipe sweat and cheap perfume off his forehead. And he begs me not to hurt him and I grab him tight by his JanitorMan shirt collar and I pull him to my face, and he’s taller than me, but the cape helps so he listens when I look him straight in the eyes and I say two words to him: “Go home.” And he does, checking behind his shoulder every ten feet. And I SWOOSH from building to building on his way there, ‘cause I know where he lives. And I watch his hands where he lives. And I watch his hands tremble as he pulls out his keychain and opens the door to his building. And I’m back in bed before he even walks in through the front door. And I hear him turn on the faucet and pour himself a glass of warm tap water And he puts the glass back in the sink. And I hear his footsteps, And they get slower as they get to my room. And he creaks my door open like mad slow. And he takes a step in, which he never does. And he’s staring off into nowhere, his face the color of sidewalks in summer, and I act like I’m just waking up, and I say, “What’s up, Pop?” And JanitorMan says nothing to me. But I see, in the dark, I see his arms go limp and his head turns back, like towards me, and he lifts it for I could see his face, For I could see his eyes, And his cheeks is dripping but not with sweat. And he just stands there, breathing, like he remembers my eyes glowing white. Like he remembers my bulletproof chest. Like he remembers he’s my pop. And for a long time I don’t say nothing. And he turns around, hand on the doorknob, and he ain’t looking up my way but I hear him mumble two words to me. “I’m sorry.” And I lean over and open my window just a crack.… If you look up high enough you could see me. And from where I am? I could hear everything.

Good morning, Timmy! What are you doing? Good morning, Miss Jill. I’m drawing a line. That’s too easy, Timmy. How about drawing a fish? That’s a good idea. I love fish. Look! I drew a fish. What do you think? I think it’s beautiful. How about coloring it? Ok, I will color it yellow and orange. Wow, it looks really great. Well done, Timmy.

Emma: Good evening, Mom. What's for dinner? Mom: We will have chicken salad. Can you help me set the table? Emma: Sure! How many plates do we need? Mom: There will be five people. We need five plates. Emma: How many knives and forks do we need? Mom: We need five knives and five forks. We will use them to eat the salad. Emma: Is this good, Mom? Mom: Yes, thank you, Emma! It looks great. Dinner is ready.

Here is the vocabulary I am teaching:I would not try Je n'essayerais pas because parce que I like J'aime are sont street food la cuisine de rue a food une nourriture to eat manger has a main ingredients les ingrédients principaux a drink une boisson I love J'adore without sans I would eat Je mangerais I prefer Je préfère with avec delicious délicieux to drink boire it looks ça a l'air at a food stand au stand de nourriture fries les frites I don't like Je n'aime pas at a food truck au camion-restaurant I would like Je voudrais to me that seems cela me semble disgusting dégoûtant I would not eat Je ne mangerais pas please s'il vous plaît brown sauce la sauce brune interesting (negatively) particulier I would not drink Je ne boirais pas I prefer to eat Je préfère manger I prefer to drink Je préfère boire I'm hungry J'ai faim in my opinion à mon avis I would drink Je boirais good bon is est cheese le fromage have ont I'm thirsty J'ai soif at a restaurant au restaurant I would try J'essayerais buckwheat very thin pancake like food une galette I don't like Je n'aime pas a meat une viande strawberries aux fraises the sauce la sauce the topping la garniture I prefer Je préfère sweet sucrée mushrooms aux champignons savory/salty salée chicken au poulet an other item une autre chose a vegetable une légume raspberries aux framboises hazelnut cream à la crème de noisette I love J'adore spinach aux épinards peaches aux pêches cheese au fromage I don't know Je ne sais pas ham au jambon thin pancake like food that has fillings une crêpe a fruit un fruit without sans I like J'aime cottage cheese au fromage cottage with avec banana à la banane chocolate au chocolat white chocolate au chocolat blanc

A Prairie Guard Dog I am on a journey. My trip is to a prairie. It is in the outdoor world called nature. Many animals live in a prairie habitat. This place has what prairie dogs need to survive. A prairie has a lot of grasses but few trees. Without places to hide, a prairie can be dangerous for some animals. Good Morning! It is early in the morning. First, I see a prairie dog. I name him Pete. He peeks his head out of his burrow underground. He looks around. Then Pete calls loudly to his family, "Yip!" He lets them know it is safe to come out. Soon four prairie dogs come out. Pete is the guard and he is restless. He cannot rest because he is always looking around for danger. This allows the other prairie dogs to safely munch on grasses and seeds. They can also groom each other or work on their burrow. A Scare Oh no! Pete spies a large badger! When he sees it, he gives a loud bark, "Yap! Yap!" His family recognizes the warning. Some hide in tall grasses, and some jump into the burrow. The badger runs at Pete, but the watchful guard is able to escape into the burrow. I am glad he is able to get away from danger. After a few minutes, Pete peeks his head out again and he is back on the job. Break Time The sun gets higher, and it is hot now. The prairie dogs slip into their deep burrow where it is cooler. Even Pete goes in. Tunnels, like hallways, lead to different areas. There is a sleeping room. There is a room used like a bathroom. The prairie dogs cover up roots and seeds in one room. Later, they eat the buried food there. Second Shift I keep watching the burrow. Finally, the sun begins to set and a different prairie dog peeks its head out. I name him Gary. Pete must be off duty. "Yip," Gary calls. The other prairie dogs come back out. The prairie dogs eat and play until the moon is high in the sky. Then they go to sleep in their burrows. I wonder if Pete will be back on duty. I will see in the morning.

A Picture for Dad I painted a picture of my dad for his birthday. It was the first time I drew a picture of him. At the party, I was scared to give it to him. Why? Because it wasn't very good. But when my dad saw it, he said that he liked it. He put it right up on the wall and said, "It looks just like me!"

Characters: Tom and Mia Setting: Playground and nearby fields Tom: Hey Mia! Look at that flag on the pole! It’s huge! Mia: Wow! I almost can’t see the top. Hey, the map shows all the points in the playground. Let’s explore! Tom: Cool! I want to find the highest point and pretend I’m a mountain explorer. Mia: Haha! The clouds seem really close today. I think I can lie on the grass and touch them! Tom: Good idea! But careful… you might crash into a bug! Mia: Haha! Don’t worry, I brought my sack for collecting leaves and rocks. Tom: Nice! By the way, did you see that aircraft yesterday? Its flight was so long. It looked like a tiny toy in the sky! Mia: The sky looks endless today. I can’t see where it ends! Tom: Yeah! And the plains near the playground are huge. We could run forever. Mia: Tom, you look really serious. Are you thinking of a new game? Tom: Maybe… let’s clear this area and play “Treasure Explorer.” Mia: Perfect! I’ll hide the treasure in my sack first. Tom: Ready! Let’s go find it before the “aircraft” spies us from the sky!

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