Cesar’s glasses rest at the base of his nose. In full concentration, he looks down through thick, clouded lenses. Blue frames contrast with his brown skin. Stretching rubber bands around nails to make shapes, I see Cesar Ramirez, Malcom, Che, and Lennon in the light reflected in his pupils. He is one of many five-year-old pupils in a summer school program—designed to help kids of migrant workers catch up in school. Most are behind from moving multiple times a year. I help teach the kindergarten room shapes, numbers, and letters while their parents fry in fields, picking produce fast food chains will not pay fairly for. His classmates color circles with crayons or use the rubber bands to stretch triangles, squares, and rectangles. Cesar stretches diagonal lines, creating angles.
Cesar, what are you making? I interrupt.
Gawd, he answers softly in his thick Mexican accent.
What?
Gawd, He says louder.
God?
Yeah. He shakes his head in disbelief of my doubt.
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