They Call Me Güero. David Bowles

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      LEARNING TO READ

      When I was a little kid,

      my abuela Mimi would ease down

      into her old, creaky rocking chair

      to tell my cousins and me

      such spine-tingling tales

      as ever a pingo fronterizo,

      crazy for cucuys, could hope to hear.

      I always had questions

      at the end of Mimi’s stories.

      What was the little boy’s name?

      What did his parents do

      when they found him missing

      from his room?

      Is there a special police squad

      that tracks down monster hands

      and witch owls and sobbing spirits

      in order to save the boys and girls

      that they’ve stolen?

      “No sé, m’ijo. The story just ends.

      Happened once upon a time.

      Nobody knows.”

      But I didn’t get it. I was so literal.

      I believed every story she told was true.

      So I kept asking my questions,

      guessing at answers

      till she broke down at last

      and told me the greatest truth:

      “You have to learn to read, Güerito.

      You will only find what you seek

      in the pages of books.”

      So I began to bug my mom

      to teach me to read till she did.

      I was barely five at the time.

      First day of kinder arrived, and I was so excited

      at all the books my sister said were waiting

      on the shelves for me.

      But then the teacher started drawing

      the letter “A” on the board, and I soon got it—

      none of the other kids could read.

      She was going to teach us the alphabet

      one letter per day! Not me! No way!

      I dropped out of kindergarten,

      little rebel that I was.

      Instead, my mom took me

      to the public library

      every day, all year long.

      I read book after book after book

      delighting in the new tales,

      the strange and mysterious places.

      And when first grade rolled around

      (not optional like kinder),

      the school was so amazed at my skill

      they put me in a third-grade reading class!

      I got picked on, sure, but I was pretty proud

      and didn’t care when kids called me nerd.

      The school counselor told my folks

      I can already read at college level!

      And I’ve found lots of answers,

      but also many new questions.

      Of course I pass all the state tests

      with super high scores.

      Learning in class is easy for me.

      Dad says all those books

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