Goldish

            Geraldine looked at the gold and silver stars lining the path of her fellow students’ progress. If there wasn’t a star on the paper next to your name, you hadn’t gotten an A or B or your test for that day. If you had a silver star, you had gotten a B for that day’s test. A gold star meant that you had received an A on the test for that day. Geraldine had no stars by her name.

            “Geraldine, I think it’s time we had a talk about your test scores,” Ms. Garcia said, looking at the chart over Geraldine’s head. Geraldine spun around, facing her teacher and a blush of shame passed over her face like a cloud over the sun. Her eyes met the ground, and Ms. Garcia knelt in front of the seven year old girl.

            “You’re the only one in the class who hasn’t shown any improvement, and I know how hard you have been studying. I see you every day. You’re always asking questions, taking notes, and I know what the problem is.”

            “You-You do?” Geraldine looked up. She had thought something was wrong with her, or that the world was against her. She had studied at home every night, she had studied during lunch and recess in the classroom with Ms. Garcia’s permission, and she had even asked her friends and family for help. The little girl showed her understanding verbally, but she just couldn’t do it on paper. Her fingers would tremble, her mind would go blank, and by the time she would get her ideas in her head on how to solve the problems, time would be up.

            “Yes, you’re stressing yourself out,” Ms. Garcia said with a smile. She had seen students stress themselves out and fail tests before. She, herself, had failed a few tests in school because she was more worried about what would happen if she failed than what would happen if she had at least gotten something on the paper.

            “The last few tests I noticed it. You’ve been scrunching up your whole body, holding your breath like you’re under water . . . I used to do the same thing. And I just want you to know that it’s okay. You’re okay.”

            “But I’m not getting the stars,” Geraldine’s voice dripped out, her face red and patchy from her tears of frustration. “If I don’t get any stars, my parents might not love me anymore. My first parents didn’t love me, that’s why they gave me away. I don’t want to go away again.”

            Ms. Garcia looked at Geraldine in shock and wrapped her arms around her. She rubbed the small girl’s back and then smiled to herself.

            “The stars are to motivate you guys. You know the saying, ‘You’ve got to reach for the stars’?” Geraldine nodded. “Well, that’s what these stars are for. You guys are reaching for them. And If anyone has been reaching for them, it’s you.” She pulled away from the little girl and pulled a packet of stars from her pocket with little gold, silver, and bronze stars. “Now, these may not be gold, but their goldish,” She said as she placed the bronze stars next to Geraldine’s name.

            The little girl hiccupped a few times and wiped her tears away with her sleeves as she now didn’t feel like a failure anymore. Her goldish stars showed that she was reaching, grasping, and connecting. She was smart, she knew that, and everyone else would know that too.