The next day Luisito got to school earlier than usual. The bell rang at school and Luisito walked toward his first period class. He noticed the kids he passed in the hallway were wearing sweaters. Luisito, used to the warm breezes of the Caribbean, was already freezing. Wearing his blue jacket, he walked quickly toward Room 102: history class with Mr. Xavier Alvarez. History was Luisito’s favorite subject, and he remembered his teacher in Cuba once spoke about the American Revolution. Of course, he didn’t exactly know what was true or not. According to Abuela, his teachers were known for bending the truth about history.
“How many students are new this year?” Mr. Alvarez asked.
Three students, including Luisito, raised their hands.
“Well, we have something in common. I’m new to this school too,” Mr. Alvarez said, smiling.
“We are going to start our semester learning about Latin America and the Caribbean. Is anyone in this class from those places?”
A girl from Honduras, a boy from Jamaica, and Luisito each stood up and told where they were from.
“I am originally from Mexico, but I came here to study and then stayed,” Mr. Alvarez said. “The United States is composed of immigrants from different parts of the world.”
He wrote down where the three students were from and said he would start with those countries.
“We can start with Cuba since it is the closest country to the United States,” he said.
“Where did you live, Lewis?” Mr. Alvarez asked.
“In Havana,” Luisito responded.
“And your dad, what did he do for a living?” Mr. Alvarez said.
“He is a medical doctor,” Luisito answered.
“Then your father must come and talk to our class one day,” Mr. Alvarez said, just as the bell rang.
Luisito couldn’t wait to tell his father that he had been invited to speak in his class.
“Do you think your father is going to want to speak to the class?” Tommy whispered.
“He won’t have much to say,” said Luisito. “He worked in a neighborhood hospital. It’s only the hospitals where the tourists go that have everything.”
“By the way, did you sign up for soccer?” Tommy asked, handing him two forms.
Right after dinner that night, Luisito gave the forms that he had filled out to his mother so she could sign them.
“Who’s this Lewis?” asked Elena, looking at the form.
“That’s his American name,” said Tommy, who was sitting at the dinner table with them.
“Look at him. Before we know it he will forget all his Spanish!” Rosie said as she cut herself a piece of apple pie.
“He’d better not,” Miguel smiled at them. “Luis Alberto Miguel Angel Ramirez Jemot!”