A Usage Lesson, Long Ago

“If you don’t have nothing,”
I asked the drowsy class of
seventh graders, in the period
right before lunch,
“What do you have?”

“Nothing,” came the
listless reply.
And they fell into my trap.

“No,” I said.
“That can’t be right.
You don’t have nothing.
So what do you have?”

One or two
roused from the prelunch
stupor and said more insistently,
and more slowly,
as though speaking to someone who’s
a little bit slow, “No-thing.”
Then heads descended again,
confident that this time
I must have understood.

“No,” I said again,
“You Don’t Have nothing.
What do you Have?”

And for the first time
in a long time
I began to see the light bulbs
as they shone above a few heads.

“Something!” One called out.
“Yeah, if I don’t have nothing,
I must have something!”
Agreed another.

Most still looked confused,
annoyed at being awakened this way.
Annoyed that others were now
getting it wrong as well as that
goofy teacher.

And those that got it
began to quiz their friends
a note of exasperation
and hinting in their voices.

“C’mon! Figure it out.
If you don’t have nothing,
what do you have?”

And like a slow moving virus
it moved around the room.
Newly interested students
who got no more of a hint than that
began to get it, too.

And so for the next week or so,
until all had it figured out,
I was greeted in the hallway
before and after school,
between classes,
with new light bulbs.

“I’ve got it! I’ve got it!
If I don’t have nothing,
I have something!”

And after that lesson,
I had something, too.

©2008-Art Belliveau