Transitioning
by Dean Gessie
“You pronounce it mix. Try it with me, children. Mix Rogers.”
“Mix Rogers.”
“Well done. Any questions?”
“Do you have a cold, Mx. Rogers?”
“No. I am feeling better than I have in a long time.”
“Did you go to Disneyland?”
“No. I was absent for personal care.”
“Your voice sounds different.”
“Well,” said Mx. Rogers, pointing at every student, “a voice is a unique instrument.”
The children were nonplussed, but flush with interest.
Mx. Rogers smiled and signalled for the children to gather round. “I have written a story,” they said, “for story time.”
The pupils moved obediently into an open semi-circle.
Mx. Rogers read from their iPad.
“Ellie the Eel had smaller fins than her brothers and sisters. Therefore, she might swim off course and lose sight of her goal. The other eels wanted to help, but they didn’t know how. Nigel the Most Unkind Eel called her Aimless Ellie.”
Sarah raised her hand immediately and said, “You shouldn’t call people names.”
Micah said, “We’re all different.”
Mx. Rogers nodded affirmatively to each student and recommenced.
“Ellie the Eel became separated from her brothers and sisters. She was not strong enough to make the climb upstream. The other eels looked on with sadness and regret. They wondered why Ellie was not the same as the rest of the group. You can call yourself Ellie the Eel, said Nigel the Most Unkind Eel, but that doesn’t make it true.”
Eugene said, “Nigel is not very nice.”
Elijah said, “A life vest would solve everything.”
Mx. Rogers continued their story, “Ellie the Eel was having a real identity crisis. She needed to know who she was. And she was prepared to ask anyone.
“Early the next day, she came upon a seahorse who just happened to be giving birth to his babies. Ellie introduced herself and said, Can you tell me who I am?
“Sammy the Seahorse answered, Well, that’s not for me to say, but you certainly are an early bird.
“‘I’m not a bird! said Ellie the Eel. I don’t have feathers and I can’t fly! Nonetheless, Ellie knew that eels eat worms, just like some birds. It was all so confusing.”
But Eugene’s confusion was elsewhere. “Can boys have babies?” he said.
Mx. Rogers said, “Seahorse boys do.”
Serena said, “I like your haircut, Mx. Rogers.”
Mx. Rogers answered another question before continuing to read. “Yes. You can take her at her word. Ellie is not a bird.”
“Later that morning,” continued Mx. Rogers, “Ellie the Eel met a spiny water flea who happened to be making babies all by themselves. I’m asking everyone, said Ellie. Can you tell me who I am?
“Scarlett the Spiny Water Flea said, Well, that’s not for me to say, but you certainly are an eager beaver.
“I’m not a beaver! said Ellie the Eel. I don’t cut down trees with my teeth! But she knew that eels spend much of their time in water and some of their time on land, like beavers. It was all so confusing.”
Daniel raised his hand and made an astute observation. “My puppies and the flea babies don’t have a dad.”
Mx. Rogers answered a question. “Yes,” they said. “You can take her at her word. Ellie is not a beaver.”
And then the children found themselves in a game of cascading recall.
“She’s not a seahorse,” said Rajeev.
“And she’s not a bird,” said Eugene.
“And she’s not a flea,” said Serena.
“And she’s not a beaver,” said Micah.
Mx. Rogers complimented the children on their memory and continued, “The last neighbour that Ellie the Eel approached was a catfish. Said Ellie the Eel, Can you tell me who I am?
“Cliff the Wells Catfish answered in the form of a riddle. Nid wyf yn gwybod, he said, which means, I don’t know. But, he added, sometimes, backwards is forwards. Cliff the Wells Catfish knew that eels, like catfish, can swim backwards.”
Micah said, “How can you move forward and backward at the same time?”
Hassan spoke immediately and revealed the depth of his old soul. “By pointing yourself,” he said, “in the right direction.”
Mx. Rogers gasped, drew a big heart in the air and pushed it in the direction of Hassan. And then they finished their story.
“Ellie the Eel realized what she had to do. She propelled herself upstream by swimming backwards. Her brothers and sisters greeted her with joy and cheers. Hip! Hip! Hooray! they shouted. Nigel the Most Unkind Eel shook his unkind head. Who are you? he said. You don’t swim like the others.
“I am who I am, said Ellie. I am ELY THE EEL!”
Mx. Rogers closed their iPad and answered one last one question. “Yes,” they said. “You can take them at their word. Mx. Ely is a genuine eel. There is strength,’ they added, “in difference.”
All the children applauded. They were less interested in the moral of the story. It was somewhat boring and unnecessary. However, each was delighted that the story had a happy ending. Hassan, the old soul, made an observation that seemed to satisfy and offer closure, “Mx. Rogers and Mx. Ely say their name the same way.”
And then the children enjoyed snack time and nap time and play time. And each hugged each other and their teacher at the last bell.
Dean Gessie is an author and poet who has won dozens of international awards and prizes. Among other honours, Dean was included in The 64 Best Poets of 2018 and 2019 by Black Mountain Press in North Carolina. He also won the Aesthetica Creative Writing Award in England, the Allingham Arts Festival Poetry Competition in Ireland and the Creators of Justice Literary Award [Fiction Category] from the International Human Rights Art Festival in New York. Elsewhere, Dean won the Frank O’Hara Poetry Prize in Massachusetts, the Enizagam Poetry Contest in California, the Ageless Authors Poetry Contest in Texas, the Indigo Open Poetry Prize in England, the Spoon River Review Editors’ Prize in Illinois, the Southern Shakespeare Company Sonnet Contest in Florida, the COP26 Poetry Competition in Scotland and the UN-aligned Poetry Contest in Finland [in honour of the U.N. Climate Change Conference]. Dean’s short story collection – called Anthropocene - won an Eyelands Book Award in Greece and the Uncollected Press Prize in Maryland. He has a book of poetry forthcoming [goat song] from Uncollected Press.