Page 5 of A Dish Best Served Hot

Lola nodded, because really what could she say to that?

Mrs. Fonseca jumped in. “I remember you had mentioned having some academic teaching experience during your interview.”

Oh shit.

“Yes...” Lola had originally wanted to become a teacher, like the second grade teacher who’d changed her life. It had only taken a few years in the stifling environment of the classroom, however, for Lola to realize that she could do much more for kids by working to improve the community surrounding their schools. She’d gone back to school for public administration and nonprofit management with a focus on human services.

“Well, I have a long-term subbing position for you, if you’re interested,” Dolores said. “It’s our four-year-old kindergarten classroom.”

Lola’s eyebrows went up. That lady had been a preschool teacher? That was...unexpected. Usually when teachers quit in the middle of the year they were in charge of older students whose behaviors tended to be more intense. But for any teacher to up and quit once the school year had started—something was seriously wrong. “I haven’t taught preschool since my student teaching,” Lola hedged. “I’m more familiar with fourth and fifth grades. Although I haven’t been in the classroom for almost five years now.”

“It’s just until the end of the year,” she said.

Mrs. Fonseca chimed in again. “Lola, I know you want a full-time position here, and one that’s not in a classroom. While I don’t have that at the moment, there is a good chance something will be opening up soon. I want to be able to offer that to you, but I’d want to see you interact with all aspects of El Vecindario. Our focus has always been on the youth of the community and the school is a large part of that.”

Damn. Lola had been planning to politely decline, but she couldn’t now. Not if it could lead to a full-time position at El Vecindario. She’d been working part-time teaching her Krav Maga classes and volunteering at different buildings since she moved back to Humboldt Park, but she wanted something more permanent. “Can I be real with you?”

Mrs. Fonseca smiled. “Lola, I don’t think you are capable of being anything else.”

True enough. “You know I’m back because of Benny. He’s a lot and I don’t really need added stress, you know what I mean. And this classseemslike it’s going to be added stress.” Lola gestured vaguely to the door the teacher had stormed out of.

“Look, I know you’re probably apprehensive given what you heard and saw, but let me assure you that the situation is hardly as severe as Ms. Kirkland made it seem. She’s upset about an incident with a parent that didn’t go the way she expected,” Dolores explained.

Lola sat back. “I need more than that. I can’t just be expected to jump into a potentially hostile environment without any information.”

Mrs. Fonseca sighed but nodded. “You know how these things go, Lola. These young people come here from their middle-class, suburban experiences expecting to make a huge impact and save these poor Brown kids from their terrible lives, like some Michelle Pfeiffer movie, and when reality hits they either sink or swim.”

Ah. The white savior complex. Yes. Lola was very familiar with it. “So that’s what happened with her?” She directed her question at Dolores.

Dolores nodded. “She thought that going above my head to Fonseca would change the outcome of her situation.”

Lola snorted. “She demanded to speak to the manager.”

Mrs. Fonseca huffed. “Basically.”

Dolores continued. “I’m sad to see her go. She’s a good teacher and she’s passionate. She just needs to learn that she doesn’t always know better than the families we serve.”

Lola laughed. “That’s a nice way of saying that she needs to sit down and be humble.”

Mrs. Fonseca just shook her head and gave Lola the same amused but exasperated look she used to give her. “It’s not really about her at this point. It’s about the fact that there is now a room of twenty-five four-year-olds who still need to receive a solid foundation to build on, so we stop seeing these academic gaps that only widen as these kids get older.”

Lola had always respected that about Mrs. Fonseca. She knew her community inside and out and she was determined to see every single kid that roamed the halls of the center succeed. Lola strived to be like her. “I’ll do it,” she told Mrs. Fonseca.

“Great. I’d like to have you go there this afternoon to get a feel for it.”

Lola was about to say that she needed to go home to change out of her workout clothes first when her phone trilled from her pocket. Lola had every number set to vibrate during the day except the number of her grandfather’s senior living facility. “I’m sorry. I have to take this. It’s Casa del Sol.”

Mrs. Fonseca nodded and stood up. Dolores followed. “Take it here. We’ll step out to make some plans.” She moved around her desk and headed out the door before Lola could say anything.

“Hi, Lola, it’s Tanisha,” the voice on the other end said as soon as Lola answered.

“Hey, Tanisha, what’s up? Is Benny okay?”

Her grandfather, whom she’d called Benny since she first met him at age seven, had been diagnosed with diabetes a few years ago and had initially done a great job caring for himself. Then Lola started getting calls from the nursing staff multiple times a week complaining that regulating his medication was getting more and more complicated because of his refusal to eat normally. She’d tried to talk to him about it, but in typical Benny fashion he’d told her that she could mind her own damn business if she was going to be living it up on the other side of the country. So Lola moved back home from San Diego in hopes that being close by would help the situation. Except Benny still told her to mind her own damn business.

“Well, he’s actually not feeling so great. He’s been having a lot of stomach issues today. I think he caught a stomach bug and I don’t want him getting dehydrated.”

Lola’s heart started to race. “Does he need to go to the hospital?” Tanisha was one of a few very capable nurse practitioners who worked at the neighboring clinic, Clínica Luna Nueva, and volunteered their services at Casa del Sol, so Lola knew Benny was in good hands. Still, dehydration was dangerous for someone of Benny’s age and with his health issues.

---