Learning for all ages

Marisa O’Neil

Rather than the bicycles one might expect, about a dozen baby

strollers sit parked outside five classrooms on the Whittier

Elementary School campus every school day.

Besides the kindergarten through sixth-grade classes and the

preschool, the campus is home to the Whittier Adult Education School.

Adult education offers computer classes, GED courses and family

literacy. It also provides child care for students.

But the smallest babies get to attend class with mom.

“Do you have any problems?” teacher Ines Vicente asked 2-month-old

Alan Orozco as his mother, Elba, held him on her lap, working on her

assignment in Vicente’s family literacy class. “Yes or no?”

Alan watched her carefully, perhaps considering his answer, then

stuck out his tongue. A few seats away, 3-month-old Princess Lopez

slept peacefully in a stroller next to her mom, Isabel.

“When they cry, they come to me,” Vicente said, hugging her arms

across her chest. “And they stop.”

The students in Vicente’s class have been learning English for

only a month. Most come from Mexico, El Salvador and Guatemala. Now,

they are learning to describe their classmates.

“My name is Claudia,” Isabel Lopez started, describing Claudia

Ruanova.

“Her name,” Ruanova corrected gently.

“Her name is Claudia,” Lopez said. “She is medium height. She has

brown hair. She is happy. She is not old.”

The students clapped approvingly after each stood and read his or

her work. Thy suggested corrections and giggled nervously when each

of their turns came.

“His name is Rogelio. He is short,” Beatriz Gallardo said of

classmate Rogelio Bravo, prompting an embarrassed laugh from him. “He

has brown eyes. He is young. He is not heavy.”

Next, the students worked on the alphabet and phonics with a

choreographed routine of gestures for each sound. Most laughed as

they shook their hands in the air for “oh” and slithered a hand in

front of them for “sssss.”

And just in case anyone -- besides the babies -- was napping,

Vicente pulled out a small red football.

“When I throw this to you, I want you to give me the day after and

before the day I say,” she explained as she tossed it to Bravo, who

was in his second day of the class. “Monday.”

“Tuesday ... Saturday?” he said, before realizing his mistake.

“Sunday,” he said, throwing the ball back to Vicente.

“Friday,” she said as she threw to Berta Diaz-Orozco. Orozco

flinched, avoiding the ball.

“Thursday ... Saturday,” Bravo said, picking up the ball from the

floor and passing it to Vicente.

The game continued at a quick pace, keeping most of the class on

its toes.

But Alan and Princess remained unimpressed. They both slept

soundly through the whole thing.

* MARISA O’NEIL covers education and may be reached at (949)

574-4268 or by e-mail at [email protected].