Hoping for Michael to be Mikey Again

As an English teacher to refugees in Chicago I was aware that sometimes young kids became the spokesperson for the family, but it never had a direct impact on my job. Then came Michael, a 7-year old genius from China that I met last year in Italy.

The initial communication was with his dad in Italian (if you can call an American woman and a Chinese man speaking Italian 'communication'). But after the first English lesson with Michael I realized that the important stuff went through him...in astonishingly good English.

Basketball schedules, dentist's appointments and school holidays that have an impact on our 90-minute lessons twice a week are all confirmed or cancelled by him. Like a real businessman, he usually starts and finishes our meetings with the calendar check. Every time it happens I'm reminded that a decent part of my weekly income is in the hands of a 7-year old.

I tried to give him a nickname, but he prefers Michael. ("He likes it. Hey Michael.")
I tried to play games, but he prefers spelling tests.
I tried to go outside, but he prefers inside.
I tried to do art projects, but he prefers books.

Some of his books have exercises to do with classmates. When we get to those he sadly says, "But it's just me and you, we can't do this." At the last lesson before Christmas I said we could try and we turned the umbrella, the lion stuffed animal, the rice, the microwave and a lot of other household items into classmates for which I had to invent different voices. He played Michael and only Michael which didn't really seem fair, but seeing that he's the boss, I did the best impersonation of an eraser that I could.  

That was the first day I saw a little boy lost in his imagination. He responded to questions as though he really was talking to the roll of toilet paper that lives on the kitchen table ready to wipe his nose when it drips. I invented all the voices I could think of to keep him in this wonderful world as long as possible and was willing to hurt my throat along the way.

When I became the clock I realized I was going to be late for the adult education class I taught after him, so in my best tic-toc voice I told him we had to get back to our table and chairs (even though we'd never really left) because it was time for me to go. As soon as we became Ten and Michael again he referred to the event in the past tense like we really were on a great adventure some place other than his kitchen. He remembered which voices scared him and which ones he liked and he looked around the room and referred to his classmates.

That was the most satisfying lesson I've had with my little Chinese friend because it seemed like "He liked it, Hey Mikey."  I can only hope Santa left him a little magic and wonder so we can start the new year in a world where English workbooks are left in classrooms.