“Purpose? That’s dumb. The purpose is to win the game. That’s it.” Lupe grumbled as she examined the lesson plan forms on the cafeteria table. Amelia sat next to her.
“Look down here at the notes.” Amelia pointed to the small print at the bottom of the paper. “The purpose is your overall goal for one class period,” she read. “What did you do with those kids last Saturday?”
“Are you kidding? At first, I could barely get them to listen to me. Finally, I just lined them up and walked the bases with them. It was hopeless.” Or was it? Lupe smiled as she recalled the group calling out their names and tossing the ball to one another. She paged through twelve forms in the stack. Each one started with the word purpose.
“You know what? I think I get it. My first practice wasn’t half bad,” Lupe said.
“What is Coach Ferguson always yelling out to us when we miss a catch or drop a ball?” Both girls began to laugh and put their hands on their hips, mocking their coach.
“Team play, girls!” they said together.
“Okay, purpose . . . team play.” Lupe penciled in the first line on the lesson plan form.
Click Follow to receive emails when this author adds content on Bublish
Comment on this Bubble
Your comment and a link to this bubble will also appear in your Facebook feed.