This past fall, I had registered for a writing class at the high school. My little town, east of the river, has adult education classes that aren't always just for adults. This class happens to be full of high-school dropouts who have decided, for whatever reason, to attend these classes to earn their GED. I applaud them all for their effort because I'm finding out myself just how difficult it is to please this instructor with anything I have written so far.
I have chatted with a few kids during the break periods they give us. They all seem to be very nice kids and I keep trying to encourage them to complete all these courses in the program. There's no way you can get any kind of halfway decent job in this country without at least a high school diploma. I don't even think McDonald's will hire without a diploma. And, who wants to work there for the rest of their lives? This is where I get down off my soap box and start writing.
It was toward the end of March when the instructor came to class after shoveling out her driveway from the day's snowfall. This particular day, there had been seven inches of the frozen crystals. The day before, there were five inches that fell. By the weekend, they were predicting a blizzard. She was so disgusted with how white everything had become—the trees, the bushes, the roads, the houses. White was everywhere. It had been like that for months and months already. She even asked us not to use any whiteout on our hard copies that were being turned in. Unless you are a skier, it really sucks for a color.
Mrs. Dean stood in front of the class prepared to give us our next writing assignment. She seemed to be down in the dumps that night. Letting out a big sigh, she said, "I would like all of you to write about something in your life that's green, like the color of the grass, that we haven't seen for eons. I want to be able to see the earth again. I don't want to see what fell from the sky any longer. I don't want to see what landed on this earth like a blanket on a baby." With that out of her system, she waved her hands toward the door to us and said, "Now, go. Write! I'll see you all next week." Then, as an afterthought, she shouted to us, "Let's make this a long assignment, say, 7,500 words."
Of course, there were unison moans from all the students. We packed up our book bags and headed out with our assignment.
Today, I sit at my keyboard trying to please Mrs. Dean and thinking about what is green in my life. I have thoughts of the color itself and I have thoughts of the meaning of green that society has assigned to it these days.
I'm thinking about Earth Day and how to save the planet. I know I personally can't save the planet, but I can do my part to help, just like everyone else can do their part to help. Little by little and one by one, we can do a lot more with very little effort. We can all buy green products, even though they are all a little more expensive right now; the pay back will come when we have cleaner air around us and cleaner water to drink. We can buy cloth napkins instead of throwing away paper ones every day. We can all buy lower wattage light bulbs. I'm getting used to a dimly lit room and my optician says he loves the whole concept.
But, I've decided not to write my paper about the eco system and how good it is for the world and all the beings that live upon it. I want my paper to be different. I want it to stand out among all of the other papers that Mrs. Dean has to read. I'm sure all the youngsters in the class will go the eco way with their paper, since it's been drilled into their heads since they were toddlers. "You must use unbleached paper towels, low enzyme detergents, eco friendly this and eco friendly that, etc." They probably have recycled paper in their printers right now.
I'm going to write about how many shades of green there are on this planet. They all come from the earth. They are all buried somewhere under that snow. Mrs. Dean isn't the only one who misses the grass, which leads me to the first color; the color of grass. It's the only thing in nature that I can say is a true green. If you look at a blade of grass, it is green; a true green, like the one in your box of Crayola crayons that is just labeled green. I even think there is a lawn service company with that same name, True Green. Very clever of them, wouldn't you say?
I started to make a list of all of the different names we have for something that is green. Every time I would think of a new color, it would flash in my mind and I instantly knew what it looked like. If you are colorblind, you might not understand this part, but when you say, "Pine", you know it's a deep, dark, rich color of green. Of course, you immediately picture a pine tree, the one with the long needles. You don't picture a blue spruce, which is a pine tree, but is a lighter shade of green with a touch of blue/grey in it. That one is called, "spruce". I can still picture this color in my mind even though the snow still lies on its branches like the white whiskers on my father's chin.
I would have to say that emerald green is probably my favorite. That's not only a rock from the earth, but it's a gem of a rock, and it looks great on my finger, and on my neck, and in my earlobe, and pierced to my navel. There are other rocks on the earth that are green, too. Jade, is one. You can even find green marble. I've seen it in my neighbor's bathroom.
There are some green words that I don't understand: Loden, is a color name that I think Liz Claiborne created. It's a murky color, like the color of the pond by the end of the summer. The other green I don't understand is khaki. I believe that one comes from the Army, and yet, when I buy a new pair of khaki slacks, they are always brown, but the Army uniforms are green. Perhaps their uniforms are really loden and Liz hasn't told the General, yet. Go figure.
I can find all kinds of green things in my kitchen and just by mentioning the word, you can picture the shade of green that it is: peas, limes, olives, celery, parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme. Paul Simon, where are you when I need you? Algae are green, and there is that mold on the cottage cheese at the back of the refrigerator that has been there for months. Gross, but green, too. All from nature and everything is green.
I made a cocktail last night called a grasshopper. It was made with cream de menthe. It tasted like mint and was the color of mint green. Now we have taste and sight with the same name. It's a weird language the Englishmen left us with in this country. There are so few words, and so many meanings. There are greenbacks, greenhorns, and greenhouses. There is feeling kind of green around the gills, turning green with envy, and seeing green has to do with jealousy.
My bedroom walls are painted the color of fennel. Thank God for Sherwin Williams and their color wheel. Everything around me is green, except I still can't see the grass under all that snow. I will have to wait anxiously for Spring to arrive. I'm looking forward to its onset.
Moreover, I've come to realize that everything that is green has come from the earth. If we don't save our earth, there will be nothing green around us or under us. Green means: spring, new, growing, young, and alive. "Green" is absolutely the best single word we could be using to describe Earth Day. The End.
This was the end of another crappy writing assignment that I had to turn into Mrs. Dean.
I had finally came to the end of my list of what is green on this earth besides the grass that Mrs. Dean hasn't seen for months. I was nowhere near my 7,500 words that I needed for this assignment. I enjoyed writing about all the green things and growing things, but even I was bored with my words. I needed help. Who was I going to call? Ghostbusters? No, they are as white as the damn snow.
That's when I remembered Bill. He sits at the back of the classroom and about the same age as me, at least the same generation as me. I've chatted with him a few times after class and we seem to have similar likes and dislikes in literature. He always has very constructive criticism when we are in our little groups tearing apart each other's stories. Yeah, I'll call him and see if he can help me out with more ideas.
"Hi, Bill. It's Kelly from Mrs. Dean's writing class."
"Oh, hi. How are ya?"
