‘Mr. Jim, how do you spell bald?’

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Twenty some years ago I looked around for volunteer work. I wanted something outside the law. (By that, I don’t mean lawlessness.) A block away was a school, so that’s where I went. I’ve moved, but I still volunteer at that Minneapolis school three mornings a week during the school year. I’ll start again soon.

Working with kids is an antidote to cynicism and the news. And there’s the art, which I always find inspiring and of the highest quality. Picasso would blush at the skill and originality of grade-schoolers.

Over the years I’ve collected quotes. I divide them into three categories: funny, thoughtful and poignant. Let’s start with funny first-graders. One said about his homework: “It’s at home; that’s why it’s called homework.” Another told me about a multilegged creature called a “smellipede.” And this: “Numbers and letters are meanies. They kick people in the privates.”

Also see the perennial “Punctuation never takes a vacation.”

Next, we have third-graders. Pointing at the word virgin in the dictionary, a boy said, “That’s a word I’m not supposed to know.” Some material from girls: “I think I’m allergic to exclamation marks.” Or, “I don’t trust dictionaries.” In a vocabulary drill matching words with sentences, trying to elicit the word “rude,” I gave a third-grade girl this hint: “What do you call someone who interrupts you a lot?” She answered, without irony, “Female?” (Women often laugh at that one; guys grow quiet, then say things like, “Well, don’t men tend to talk over women?” I guess I hang around with enlightened fellows.)

Kids utter thoughtful things, too. “I am a polite man.” Kindergarten boy. “Why are there so many big numbers in my life?” Third-grade girl. “You have to understand the true meaning of relax.” Third-grade boy. “Likes and loves are the hardest things to kill.” Third-grade boy.

Of course, even death appears in young lives. “The worst part of your life is dying because then you can’t dance anymore.” “My father died in the army when I was two.” Second-grade girls. Finally, “My dad was shot in the neck, but he didn’t die.” Kindergarten boy.

There is the issue of hugs. I studied in Spain and have spent a good deal of time in Latin America where touch is more accepted. It’s often a question of un beso or dos besos. In the U.S., restraint is the rule, even before COVID. I consulted with staff at the school when I started volunteering. Responses varied from “Good to stay away from that,” to “Pats are OK,” to “We hug in this class.”

Finally, a few comments by kids to your loyal volunteer: Last spring a kindergarten boy, sporting a mischievous smile, said, “Mr. Jim, how do you spell bald?” I replied, “How about h-a-l-f b-a-l-d?” And, in October, a first-grade boy, standing up after reading in the hall, noticed some scabs on the back of my head from skin cancer surgery and asked, this time innocently, “Did you do that for Halloween?”

Anyway, I’m still at it after two decades. A good jury verdict is nice, but you get a different reward walking into a kindergarten classroom when six or seven kids raise a hand after the teacher says, “Who wants to work with Mr. Jim?”

James Dunn, of Edina, is a retired attorney.