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Grumpy Side of 60
The little girl who didn’t like me
By Bob Robinson 

Callie Z. was a pistol. She was in kindergarten. Bright. Sharp. Did well on her assignments… 

“Mr. Robinson, Callie pushed me.” 

“Callie, come here, please. Why did you push her?” 

“I wanted to get a crayon and she wouldn’t move.” 

“Do you think that is okay?” 

Callie shrugged. “She wouldn’t move,” she said finally. 

“What if she’d lost her balance and fell, hurting herself? Would that have been okay?” 

Callie just stood there, looking down. 

“You don’t push people, even if they are in your way. It isn’t polite and you could hurt someone. Just a warning this time, but if there’s a problem again, you’ll have to pull a card.”

She looked at me; her eyes flashed. It was not an adoring look. 

Later that year, I was the “gym teacher,” which is a story in itself. Callie was a standout. Followed the rules, well… most of the time. A strong competitor. I had to warn her a couple times, but for the most part there were no issues. 

I had visions of her playing first team volleyball and basketball for Greenville in a few years. In basketball, I’m guessing she’d also probably be one of the first players to “foul out.” 

Fast forward to first grade. Callie was in one of my classes last fall. She was a year older, a year smarter and, it would seem, a year more aggressive. 

“Mr. Robinson, Callie pushed me again.” 

I looked up to see Callie looking at me, so I motioned with my finger for her to come over to me. 

“Callie?” 

No answer. 

“Callie, did you push him?” 

No answer. 

“Do you remember a conversation we had last year?” She nodded. “He said you pushed him again. So this isn’t the first time?” No answer. My dilemma… I don’t like to pull cards. That starts the students off on the wrong foot with their teacher the next day. If I can work with a student without doing that, then everyone is better off. 

At least that’s my humble opinion. However, this was evidently repetitive behavior. 

“Okay, Callie. You need to pull a card.” 

She looked up, eyes flashing. It was that same unadoring look I saw a year ago. She pulled a card and sat down. That was how the morning started. 

Lunchtime. I always ate with my students at Woodland. As luck would have it, I ended up sitting directly across from Callie. She just stared at her tray. 

“Callie, you aren’t eating.” No answer. She kept staring at her tray. After a minute or so, I said, “Callie, you have to eat. If I move, will you eat?” 

She nodded. I moved down the table a few seats and she started eating. We had no more problems that day. 

After that I didn’t have her in any more classes, but I saw her all the time in the lunchroom. Sometimes I caught her looking at me; then I’d see that brief “flash” and she’d look away. 

This went on for a couple weeks. If I caught her looking, she’d cover the side of her face and look away. Finally… 

“You don’t like me much, do you Callie?” She shook her head vigorously. “No!” she said. 

“That’s okay, sweety, I like you.” She got angrier. I grinned. 

And so it continued. She’d look then turn away, hiding her face with her hand. I started grinning at her. Her eyes would flash and again, she’d look away. I never stopped grinning. 

Then one day – I might have imagined it – I thought I saw a half-smile when she looked away. 

The last time? She shook her head and looked away, but she was smiling. 

Gotcha!


 



 
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