But the law required the state try, so Texas schools didn't just employ 330,000 teachers; they also employed 330,000 cops, social workers, nurses, counselors, ESL (English as a second language) facilitators, tutors, administrators, school bus drivers, janitors, and cooks. Schools now served free breakfast, lunch, and dinner, administered achievement tests and flu shots, supplied textbooks and toothbrushes, offered classes in math and parenting, and provided pregnancy counseling and childcare. Public schools had become social agencies sucking billions from the state budget. But the education activists-including his wife-wanted even more money. 'Educate or incarcerate,' she always said, and he knew in his heart that she was right. But he also knew a harsh political fact of life: there was no more money for these children.
The State of Texas was broke.
He turned back to the book and read another passage-the little llama named Lloyd now thought a kangaroo might be his mama-then again showed his audience the picture, which evoked another loud 'Aah' and ' canguro ' from the kids. They were bright-faced and wide-eyed and seemed to be enjoying themselves, English-language skills notwithstanding. A few listened intently, but most were too busy eating peanut butter crackers and sucking on juice boxes to pay attention. At the back of the classroom, two cameras captured the moment; one was from a local TV station, the other from a private production studio. These kids didn't know it, but they would soon be starring in a 'Bode Bonner for Governor' commercial.
Mandy had arrived early to set up the event. She chatted with the TV reporter and checked the production camera to ensure the angle caught Bode in his best light; she looked incredibly sexy in a skintight knit dress, the perky blonde cheerleader-turned-political aide. He wondered if she had any underwear on.
Jim Bob stood in the corner, as if he'd been put in time-out with an iPhone. He seemed pleased. Because he had dreamed up another brilliant campaign photo op: the Republican governor reading to a bunch of kids. And not rich white kids in West Austin, but poor brown and black kids in East Austin. West of Interstate 35 was downtown, the State Capitol, the Governor's Mansion, lakefront estates, and rich white people; east of the interstate was the city dump, crime, and poor black and brown people. Democrats. The Republican governor had a sneaking suspicion that his political strategist had intentionally sent the governor's wife out of town so he'd have to read to these kids. He looked back down at the book and read the final passage when the little llama finally found his mama llama.
' ' ' My mama's a… llama! And this is… the end.' ' '
Praise the Lord. Bode turned the book so the kids could see the picture of the mama llama cuddling the little llama. One kid pointed at the book and said, ' Un camello.' The others nodded.
Un camello? A camel?
'No, no, it's not a camel,' Bode said. 'It's a llama.'
Their faces were blank.
' Una llama,' he said, even though he had no idea if that were the correct translation.
From his audience: 'Aah.'
'?Un libro mas! ' one cute little girl with dangly loop earrings said.
Un… one… mas… more… libro… book? She wanted him to read another book? Not only no, but hell no.
'Oh, I'd love to, kids, but the governor's got to take care of some real important state business.'
The teacher, a sweet-faced young woman named Ms. Rodriguez, stepped to the front of the classroom and said, 'Well, Governor, that was, uh… that was wonderful. Thank you so much for visiting our class today. Children, let us thank the governor with a big round of applause.'
The kids didn't make a move.
So she said, ' Ninos, denle un fuerte aplauso al gobernador. '
Now they clapped-as if they'd been told they had to come to school that Saturday. The teacher forced a smile for Bode.
'Thank you, Governor. I am sorry Mrs. Bonner could not come today. She has adopted our school, as you know-'
He didn't know.
— 'and spends entire days in my classroom, tutoring the children, trying to teach them English.'
So that's what she did with her days while he played golf with lobbyists.
Ms. Rodriguez's soft brown eyes took in her charges, now experiencing a collective sugar high from the juice: the boys, booger-farming, butt-scratching, crotch-grabbing, pushing and shoving and taunting'?Cabron! '
Ms. Rodriguez's eyes flashed dark.
'Ricardo!'
She glared at the boy and put a finger sharply to her lips, as if to say, Watch your mouth!
— and the girls, twirling around in their fluffy dresses or colorful sweat suits and singing Tejano tunes and smelling of perfume.
'I love these children,' she said, her face back to sweet.
'You do?'
'Yes. In my classroom, they are my children.'
Ms. Rodriguez sighed, and her shoulders sagged. She seemed older now.
'Of course, I often think I am their mother. I have them from seven in the morning until seven at night. They come for the free breakfast and stay for the free dinner. They are on welfare and WIC and CHIPS, but they have the manicured nails and the pierced ears and the new Nike sneakers and their parents have the iPhones and drive the fancy pickup trucks with the silver wheels and they all have the satellite TV. Most are undocumented, as my parents were, but my parents sacrificed so I could go to college and have a better life. I do not think these children will have a better life.'
She bit her lower lip, and Bode thought she might cry.
'Thank you, Governor, for caring about these children. Mrs. Bonner, she has told me how much you care. As she says, 'If we do not educate them, we will certainly have to incarcerate them.' I look at them each day and wonder who will be educated in twelve years and who will be incarcerated. I am afraid that more will be in prison than in college. That saddens me. I know it saddens you as well.'
She planted her face in his chest and wrapped her arms around him.
Bode felt terribly uncomfortable. The truth of the matter was, he hadn't thought about these kids in that way. He thought of them as a budget item-an item that was ballooning out of control, just like the defense budget at the federal level. And just as the president would be committing political suicide if he cut the defense budget, Bode Bonner would be committing political suicide if he cut the education budget. That would mean he didn't care. So, like every governor before him, he had thrown billions more at education to prove he cared. But for what? Half of these kids would drop out before graduation to get a job, join a gang, go to prison, or have a baby. He took one last glance around the classroom and wondered how the State of Texas could ever spend enough money to make the public schools work. How could any state? It was depressing, another aspect of the job he didn't much care for.
Ms. Rodriguez hung tight.
He patted her back but desperately hoped to escape her grasp and this classroom without her tears or the kids' peanut butter fingers all over his Armani suit. But when she finally released him, Mandy herded the little rugrats around him for the cameras.
'Come on, kids, we'll make a memory,' she said in her perky voice. 'I'll send your teacher a photograph for your classroom.'
The kids gathered close and put their sticky hands all over his suit, which now looked like an Armani peanut butter and jelly sandwich without the jelly. Memories were made, and Bode was brushing the peanut butter off his coat when a black boy, taller than the others and wearing brand new Air Jordan sneakers, low-slung pants, and a Kobe Bryant jersey when he still wore number eight, pushed forward and said, 'My mama says you don't care about poor folks like us.'
The kid was in kindergarten but looked like he should be in the penitentiary; his hair was braided into long dreadlocks in the fashion favored by black pro athletes. And he sported the same gangster attitude. Bode wanted to get down in the kid's face and say something like, 'Poor? How much did those sneakers cost your mama?' But the Professor cleared his throat like he was choking on a chicken bone and nodded at the cameras. So Bode forced a smile.
'Well, son, your mother's mistaken. I'm the governor, and I care about all Texans.'
