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         8 
           
        School 
          Days and Preschool Days, Too: 
          A treasury of anecdotes culled from my work 
          and play as a preschool worker and an elementary school after- school 
          activities supervisor   
          ______  
         
          DEFINITION OF A SHARK  
         
            
         
             Supervising 
          the preschool art table was occasionally part of my substitute-teaching 
          assignments this past year. Sometimes I'd be asked to xerox things like 
          an Easter egg or a spring-harbinger robin from a book for children to 
          color. Sometimes we'd do a simple cut-and-paste project. 
                  A couple times I offered 
          to draw whatever animal each child requested, for him or her to color. 
          That was always fun. I filled requests for dinosaurs, unicorns, snakes, 
          and an occasional penguin, tiger or gorilla.  
                I should say it was fun except that after 
          awhile many children became more interested in my drawings than in their 
          own coloring. A little girl would spend maybe thirty seconds coloring 
          a unicorn that had taken me several minutes to draw, and then ask for 
          another animal.  
                What had started out as an exciting adventure 
          for everyone, including me I'd never before drawn some of these 
          animals left me feeling, after about half an hour, like a burger-flipper 
          at a fast food restaurant during rush hour. In subsequent drawing sessions, 
          I simply stopped when I began feeling overworked.  
                Most of the children were delighted with 
          my rudimentary drawings. They seemed to consider me a on par with Da 
          Vinci because I could draw a snake.  
                Two twins, however, turned out to be 
          tough customers. They each asked me to draw a shark. That seemed easy. 
          I made my fish-shaped squiggle, made sure it had a big tail and enormous, 
          pointed teeth, and, magician-like or even rock-star-like, passed the 
          finished drawing to one of the two boys.       
                "DAT'S NOT A SHAAK!" the boys exclaimed 
          together in their barely- understandable twins' language that always 
          reminded me of two old men sitting on rocking chairs on a Brooklyn porch. 
                "It's not?" I asked.  
                "NO!" they repeated sharply, implying 
          my total ineptness at fish-identification.  
                I looked at my drawing. To me, a shark 
          was a big fish with huge teeth. What did these boys want? Was their 
          dad an ichthyologist or something?  
                Ah. Finally I saw my error. I'd neglected 
          to draw in the shark's dorsal fin. That, of course, is the other part 
          of its trademark besides its teeth. I added a huge fin on top of the 
          fish and proudly passed the piece of paper back to the boys.  
           
          "Definition 
          of a Shark" continues on the next page 
                                                   
           
          ***** 
          continued   back   contents   title 
          page 
           
           "What Remains Is 
          the Essence", the home pages of Max Reif: 
           
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