Summer reading for rising 7th graders corresponds with the first unit

Summer Reading Assignment for Rising 7th Graders

Summer reading for rising 7th graders corresponds with the first

unit of study in 7th grade, Generations. In this unit, students will

explore fiction and non-fiction texts in order to answer the unit

essential question: What can one generation learn from another?

Over the summer, students will read three text selections from below. The First Read Activity is

to help students focus on what is important in the selection while reading. Students will be

assessed on the material when they return; the reading is due by Friday, August 7, 2020. The

texts are included in this document.

Directions: All students will read "The Grandfather and His Little Grandson" w/ First Read

Activity

Choose One: "Gotcha Day" or "Bridging the Generational Divide"

Choose One: "An Hour with Abuelo" or "Water Names"

The Comprehension and Text Questions are not required but will help the student understand

the selections and prepare for the quiz when they return to school.

NOTES

BACKGROUND

“The Grandfather and His Little Grandson” is originally a German fairy

tale collected by the Brothers Grimm, and first published in 1812. Many

writers, including Leo Tolstoy, have retold different versions of this story

over time.

he grandfather had become very old. His legs would not

carry him, his eyes could not see, his ears could not hear, and

he was toothless. And when he ate, he was untidy. His son and the

son’s wife no longer allowed him to eat with them at the table and

had him take his meals near the stove. They gave him his food

in a cup. Once he tried to move the cup closer to him and it fell

to the floor and broke. The daughter-in-law scolded the old man,

saying that he damaged everything around the house and broke

their cups, and she warned him that from that day on she would

give him his food in a wooden dish. The old man sighed and said

nothing.

One day the old man’s son and his wife were sitting in their

hut, resting. Their little son was playing on the floor. He was

putting together something out of small bits of wood. His father

asked him: “What are you making, Misha?” And Misha said: “I’m

About the Author

Leo Tolstoy (1828–1910) was born into a wealthy

family in Russia and inherited the family estate. By

the time he was fifty, he had written some of the

world’s most famous novels. In midlife, Tolstoy began

to reject his life of luxury. He surrendered the rights to

many of his works and gave his property to his family.

This world-famous writer died alone in a remote train

station in Russia.

The Grandfather and

His Little Grandson

Leo Tolstoy

SHORT STORY

IL5 UNIT 1 Independent Learning • The Grandfather and His Little Grandson

NOTES

making a wooden bucket. When you and Mommie get old, I’ll

feed you out of this wooden bucket.”

The young peasant and his wife looked at each other and tears

appeared in their eyes. They were ashamed to have treated the old

man so unkindly, and from that day they again ate with him at the

table and took better care of him. ❧

Reprinted with the permission of Little Simon, an imprint of Simon & Schuster Children's Publishing Division from Twenty-Two

Russian Tales for Young Children by Leo Tolstoy, Selected, Translated, and with an Afterword by Miriam Morton. Translation

UNIT 1 Independent Learning • The Grandfather and His Little Grandson IL6

Use this graphic organizer to record your first-read ideas.

Selection Title:

NOTICE who the story is about, what

happens, where and when it happens,

and why those involved react as they do.

ANNOTATE

by marking vocabulary

and key passages you want to revisit.

Realize Reader https://reader.pearsonrealize.com/#/book/68PV3ZO8X4/view/single/page/23

1 of 1

5/6/2020, 1:58 PM

NOTES

BACKGROUND

Between 1999 and 2013, United States families adopted over 200,000

children from overseas, including 70,000 children from China. Most

children are less than two years old when adopted, but many are older,

and have some memories of life in their birth country. In this piece, an

author reflects on the mixed emotions she has about her own “Gotcha

Day,” the day she was adopted.

was five and a half years old when my parents adopted me in

China and brought me to my new home to America. As my

mom always says, I eagerly ran into her arms and truly have

stayed there for the past 12 years. She is my mom, my best friend,

the woman I admire most in the world. But for the longest time,

my family marked that day we met in China as something known

in adoption circles as “Gotcha Day.”

Lots of families celebrate the day they met their adopted child

and became a family. But while I appreciate the love and everything

else my parents give me, Gotcha Day can be a mixed bag—one that

leaves kids like me sad and confused. What’s missing from Gotcha

Day is this: The acknowledgement that adoption is also about loss.

While adoptive parents may be celebrating a long-awaited child

finally entering their lives, that child in their arms has experienced

About the Author

Sophie Johnson was a junior at Malibu High School in

Malibu, California, when she wrote and published this

article. She has written several articles for the

Huffington Post.

“Gotcha Day”

Isn’t a Cause for

Celebration

Sophie Johnson

OPINION PIECE

IL3 UNIT 1 Independent Learning • “Gotcha Day” Isn’t a Cause for Celebration

NOTES

abandonment or has been surrendered for reasons they may never

know or understand. It’s a lot to process. And sometimes while

adopted kids are processing it, their feelings of loss override their

feelings of happiness. Gotcha Day is one of those times when

we think about our past and how little some of us actually know

about it. We think about our biological parents and wish we knew

them and could ask them why they didn’t keep us. We think

about what our lives would be like, where would we be, what our

futures would look like, had there been no Gotcha Day.

It’s been said that adoption loss is the only trauma in the

world where everyone expects the victims to be grateful and

appreciative. I am grateful and appreciative, but I also want to

remind people that someone’s happiness over building their

family through adoption may also be someone else’s sorrow over

losing their child for circumstances they couldn’t control. Gotcha

Day feels like a day of fake smiles if we don’t acknowledge that

it’s also about loss, not just gain.

In my family, we now celebrate Family Day. My parents show

my brother and me the photos of when we first met. We talk about

how she fed me a big bag of candy that I promptly threw up on

her in the cab ride back to the hotel. I tell her every Family Day

how she shouldn’t have let our guide throw away the yellow

sweatsuit that I vomited on. It was the last thing my orphanage

caregivers dressed me in and was a tangible part of a past that

has many unknowns. (I forgive her; she was jet-lagged

and the

guide took away the dirty clothes and just put them in the trash

knowing my mom had a suitcase full of new things for me to

wearfrom America.)

Every Family Day, we laugh about my little brother’s Elvis

sneer and bewilderment at the events of the day we got him.

We laugh about how—I was 7 at the time and had been living

in America for two years—I took one look at him and began

asking my mom if we could get a puppy instead. We remember

how while my parents were busy filling out paperwork and he

and I sat coloring and my dad threw a ball at his head. My mom

screamed and my brother, without even looking up from his

coloring, raised his left hand and caught the pitch perfectly. “A

leftie! Yes!!” shouted out my dad, a life-long Cubs

fan. I’m not

sure if the Chinese officials thought it was funny, but we sure

laugh about it every Family Day.

I love our Family Day. It celebrates our love for one another

plain and simple. And we always end it by lighting a candle for

our first families and going outside to talk to the moon. ❧

1. jet-lagged adj. exhausted from long-distance travel.

2. Elvis Elvis Presley, wildly popular singer and actor, also known for his smiling sneer.

3. Cubs Major League Baseball team of Chicago.

UNIT 1 Independent Learning • “Gotcha Day” Isn’t a Cause for Celebration IL4

Name:

Date:

“Gotcha Day” Isn’t a Cause for Celebration

Sophie Johnson

DIRECTIONS:

Complete the following items after you finish your first read.

Where was the author living when she was adopted at five-and-a-half years old?

What is “Gotcha Day”?

What does the author think is missing from the celebration of Gotcha Day?

What is “Family Day”?

To confirm your understanding of the text, write a brief summary of “‘Gotcha Day’

Isn’t a Cause for Celebration.”

DIRECTIONS:

Respond to these questions. Use textual evidence to support your

responses.

(a)

Interpret

In paragraph 2 of the opinion piece, the author says that “Gotcha Day

can be a mixed bag….” What do you think she means by this statement?

(b)

Connect

How does the author support this statement in the opinion piece?

Make Inferences

The author writes, “It’s been said that adoption loss is the only

trauma in the world where everyone expects the victims to be grateful and

appreciative.” Why might adoption be considered a “trauma,” and the adopted child

a “victim”?

(b)

Draw Conclusions

Why might people expect adopted children to be

“grateful and appreciative” despite being victims of trauma?

(c)

Synthesize

Why are

most victims not expected to feel “grateful and appreciative”?

Relate

How is Family Day similar to and different from other family rituals, such as

birthdays or anniversaries?

Essential Question:

What can one generation learn from another?

What has this

opinion piece taught you about the ways in which people of different generations

can learn from each other?

NOTES

BACKGROUND

American football originates from the sports of soccer and rugby.

According to many metrics, it is the most popular sport in America.

But it is soccer (known as football in most countries besides the United

States) that reigns as the most popular sport across the globe. The

World Cup is among the most-watched sporting events in the world.

Today, soccer has gained popularity in the United States as well.

owhere is the generation gap between my 16-year-old son

Will and me wider than when it comes to football. Football,

for me, is that most American of sports, pitting helmeted warriors

colliding with one another across the line of scrimmage

. Football

for Will is of the global variety, the “beautiful sport” consisting of

touch passes and bending corner kicks, commonly referred to on

this side of the Atlantic as soccer.

Will plays on his high school’s JV soccer team. Last weekend,

he invited a few of his teammates for a sleepover at our home

after their Friday night game. The next morning, Will and his

teammates gathered around the television to watch an English

Premiere League soccer game. Comparing players on their

respective fantasy league soccer teams, they rattled off the names

1. line of scrimmage imaginary line used at the beginning of play to separate two

footballteams.

About the Author

John McCormick is a blogger, author, and regular contributor to the

Huffington Post’s Parents Section, where he provides insights and advice

to fellow parents. McCormick is also a speaker, frequently visiting schools,

fairs, and libraries to advocate for storytelling.

Bridging the

Generational Divide

Between a Football

Father and a

Soccer Son

John McCormick

BLOG POST

IL7 UNIT 1 Independent Learning • Bridging the Generational Divide . . .

NOTES

of players I’d never heard of . . . Mesut Özil, Yaya Touré and

Mathieu Flamini, to name just a few.

While impressed with their knowledge of EPL players, I

wondered how many professional football players they could

identify, so I asked them to name as many players they could from

the National Football League.

The first five were easy for the boys—“RGIII, Peyton Manning,

Drew Brees, Joe Flacco, Richard Sherman.”

An awkward pause ensued before another boy finally piped up

with “Ray Rice.” I groaned.

When my son and his friends finally bogged down at eight,

I asked, “Why do you know so much about soccer but so little

about football?”

The gauntlet had been thrown down, and my son quickly took

up the challenge. “Soccer is way more fun to watch and play than

football,” he said. “There are so many commercial timeouts during

football games on TV that you can die of old age waiting for play

to resume.”

I had to give him that one. While I had lost one battle, I wasn’t

about to concede the war. I told him that football had more

offense, and that watching scoreless soccer games for ninety

minutes was as dry as watching C-Span

with the volume off.

Back and forth the arguments flew like headers

on a

soccer pitch.

Will: Soccer is followed by millions more fans than football and

is the most popular sport in the world.

Dad: The 2014 Super Bowl is still the most watched in U.S. TV

history.

Will: Soccer is a more fluid

game, requiring skill, endurance

and grace.

Dad: Football has all that, too, but the players don’t act like

they’ve been mortally wounded every time an opposing player

brushes against them!

Will: Soccer enthusiasts are the most passionate fans in the

world, singing songs and standing on their feet for entire matches.

Dad: Ever been to a Seahawks game in Seattle or a Broncos

game in Denver?

My son got in the last word. “Soccer is a sport whose time has

come. It’s the sport of my generation.”

I suddenly remembered a conversation I had with my own

father when I was my son’s age. My father, the starting catcher on

his college baseball team, spoke passionately of why baseball is,

2. C-Span television network that broadcasts political proceedings and other public affairs

programming.

3. headers n. shots or passes in soccer made by hitting the ball with the head.

4. fluid adj. showing a smooth, easy style.

UNIT 1 Independent Learning • Bridging the Generational Divide . . . IL8

NOTES

and always will be, America’s national pastime. I argued just as

fervently that football was now America’s national game.

I even recall telling my dad that football was a sport whose time

had come.

Every generation has its own collective character, its likes and

dislikes, its passions and indifferences. While baseball was tops

in my dad’s day and football in mine, many youth today are

embracing soccer as the new “in” sport. Maybe it’s time for me to

take a new perspective on “the beautiful game.”

My son and I came up with a compromise. I watch an EPL game

with my son on Saturday mornings and he watches an NFL game

with me on Sunday afternoons. Not only do we have the chance to

spend more time together, but we teach each other the finer points

of futbol vs. football. Along the way we even discovered that

football is derived from soccer, with rugby providing the missing

link. Who knew that both sports were in the same family? Just like

in ours. ❧

IL9 UNIT 1 Independent Learning • Bridging the Generational Divide . . .

Name:

Date:

Bridging the Generational Divide Between a Football Father

and a Soccer Son

John McCormick

DIRECTIONS:

Complete the following items after you finish your first read.

According to the blog post, what is the most popular sport in the world?

When does the author discover that his son and his friends know very little about

American football?

What is the compromise the author and his son make at the end of the blog post?

According to the blog post, what sport provides “the missing link” between soccer

and American football?

Write a brief summary of “Bridging the Generational Divide Between a Football

Father and a Soccer Son.”

DIRECTIONS:

Respond to these questions. Use textual evidence to support your

responses.

Define

Based on your understanding of the blog post, what do you think the term

“generational divide” means?

A fact is something that can be proved. An opinion is a person’s judgment or belief.

(a)

Distinguish

Identify one fact and one opinion the author uses to support his

claim that football is the best sport. Then, find one fact and one opinion that the

author’s son uses to support the idea that soccer is the best sport. (b)

Analyze

How

do these facts and opinions contribute to the development of the author’s ideas in

the blog post?

(a)

Analyze

How does remembering a conversation he had with his father change

the author’s perspective? (b)

Connect

How does the author’s change in perspective

reveal a central idea of the blog post?

Compare and Contrast

Think of another selection you have read in which a parent

and a child disagree about something. How is this selection similar to and different

from “Bridging the Generational Divide Between a Football Father and a Soccer

Son”?

Essential Question:

What can one generation learn from another?

What has this

blog post taught you about the ways in which people of different generations can

learn from each other?

NOTES

BACKGROUND

Nursing homes are places that provide care for people who are unable

to care for themselves because of chronic illness or disability. Usually,

nursing home residents are elderly. A staff of nurses and aides provides

medicine and food so that residents are free to spend their time doing

other things.

“J

ust one hour, una hora, is all I’m asking of you, son.” My

grandfather is in a nursing home in Brooklyn, and my

mother wants me to spend some time with him, since the doctors

say that he doesn’t have too long to go now. I don’t have much

time left of my summer vacation, and there’s a stack of books

next to my bed I’ve got to read if I’m going to get into the AP

English class I want. I’m going stupid in some of my classes, and

Mr. Williams, the principal at Central, said that if I passed some

reading tests, he’d let me move up.

Besides, I hate the place, the old people’s home, especially

the way it smells like industrial-strength ammonia

and other

stuff I won’t mention, since it turns my stomach. And really the

abuelo always has a lot of relatives visiting him, so I’ve gotten out

of going out there except at Christmas, when a whole vanload

of grandchildren are herded over there to give him gifts and a

hug. We all make it quick and spend the rest of the time in the

1. ammonia n. liquid used for cleaning that has a very strong smell.

About the Author

Judith Ortiz Cofer (1952–2016) was born in Puerto Rico. She grew up in

both Puerto Rico and New Jersey, where her father was stationed in the

United States Navy. She was introduced to the storytelling tradition at her

grandmother’s house in Puerto Rico.

An Hour

With Abuelo

Judith Ortiz Cofer

SHORT STORY

UNIT 1 Independent Learning • An Hour With Abuelo IL14

NOTES

recreation area, where they play checkers and stuff with some of

the old people’s games, and I catch up on back issues of Modern

Maturity. I’m not picky, I’ll read almost anything.

Anyway, after my mother nags me for about a week, I let her

drive me to Golden Years. She drops me off in front. She wants

me to go in alone and have a “good time” talking to Abuelo. I tell

her to be back in one hour or I’ll take the bus back to Paterson. She

squeezes my hand and says, “Gracias, hijo,”

in a choked-up voice

like I’m doing her a big favor.

I get depressed the minute I walk into the place. They line up

the old people in wheelchairs in the hallway as if they were about

to be raced to the finish line by orderlies

who don’t even look at

them when they push them here and there. I walk fast to room 10,

Abuelo’s “suite.” He is sitting up in his bed writing with a pencil

in one of those old-fashioned black hardback notebooks. It has the

outline of the island of Puerto Rico on it. I slide into the hard vinyl

chair by his bed. He sort of smiles and the lines on his face get

deeper, but he doesn’t say anything. Since I’m supposed to talk to

him, I say, “What are you doing, Abuelo, writing the story of your

life?”

It’s supposed to be a joke, but he answers, “Sí, how did you

know, Arturo?”

His name is Arturo too. I was named after him. I don’t really

know my grandfather. His children, including my mother, came

to New York and New Jersey (where I was born) and he stayed on

the Island until my grandmother died. Then he got sick, and since

nobody could leave their jobs to go take care of him, they brought

him to this nursing home in Brooklyn. I see him a couple of times

a year, but he’s always surrounded by his sons and daughters. My

mother tells me that Don Arturo had once been a teacher back in

Puerto Rico, but had lost his job after the war. Then he became a

farmer. She’s always saying in a sad voice, “Ay, bendito!

What a

waste of a fine mind.” Then she usually shrugs her shoulders and

says, “Así es la vida.” That’s the way life is. It sometimes makes

me mad that the adults I know just accept whatever is thrown at

them because “that’s the way things are.” Not for me. I go after

what I want.

Anyway, Abuelo is looking at me like he was trying to see into

my head, but he doesn’t say anything. Since I like stories, I decide

I may as well ask him if he’ll read me what he wrote.

I look at my watch; I’ve already used up twenty minutes of the

hour I promised my mother.

2. Gracias, hijo (GRAH see uhs EE ho) Spanish for “Thank you, son.” Hijo also means

“child.”

3. orderlies n. hospital workers who do nonmedical tasks such as moving patients around

or cleaning.

4. bendito (vehn DEE toh) Spanish for “blessed.”

IL15 UNIT 1 Independent Learning • An Hour With Abuelo

NOTES

Abuelo starts talking in his slow way. He speaks what my

mother calls book English. He taught himself from a dictionary,

and his words sound stiff, like he’s sounding them out in his head

before he says them. With his children he speaks Spanish, and that

funny book English with us grandchildren. I’m surprised that he’s

still so sharp, because his body is shrinking like a crumpled-up

brown paper sack with some bones in it. But I can see from

looking into his eyes that the light is still on in there.

“It is a short story, Arturo. The story of my life. It will not take

very much time to read it.”

“I have time, Abuelo.” I’m a little embarrassed that he saw me

looking at my watch.

“Yes, hijo. You have spoken the truth. La verdad. You have much

time.”

Abuelo reads: “’I loved words from the beginning of my life.

In the campo

where I was born one of seven sons, there were

few books. My mother read them to us over and over: the Bible,

the stories of Spanish conquistadors and of pirates that she had

read as a child and brought with her from the city of Mayagüez;

that was before she married my father, a coffee bean farmer; and

she taught us words from the newspaper that a boy on a horse

brought every week to her. She taught each of us how to write on

5. campo (KAHM poh) Spanish for “open country.”

UNIT 1 Independent Learning • An Hour With Abuelo IL16

NOTES

a slate with chalks that she ordered by mail every year. We used

those chalks until they were so small that you lost them between

your fingers.

“’I always wanted to be a writer and a teacher. With my heart

and my soul I knew that I wanted to be around books all of my

life. And so against the wishes of my father, who wanted all

his sons to help him on the land, she sent me to high school in

Mayagüez. For four years I boarded with a couple she knew. I

paid my rent in labor, and I ate vegetables I grew myself. I wore

my clothes until they were thin as parchment. But I graduated at

the top of my class! My whole family came to see me that day. My

mother brought me a beautiful guayabera, a white shirt made of the

finest cotton and embroidered by her own hands. I was a happy

young man.

“’In those days you could teach in a country school with a high

school diploma. So I went back to my mountain village and got a

job teaching all grades in a little classroom built by the parents of

my students.

“I had books sent to me by the government. I felt like a rich

man although the pay was very small. I had books. All the books

I wanted! I taught my students how to read poetry and plays, and

how to write them. We made up songs and put on shows for the

parents. It was a beautiful time for me.

“’Then the war came,

and the American President said that all

Puerto Rican men would be drafted. I wrote to our governor and

explained that I was the only teacher in the mountain village. I

told him that the children would go back to the fields and grow

up ignorant if I could not teach them their letters. I said that I

thought I was a better teacher than a soldier. The governor did not

answer my letter. I went into the U.S. Army.

“I told my sergeant that I could be a teacher in the army. I could

teach all the farm boys their letters so that they could read the

instructions on the ammunition boxes and not blow themselves

up. The sergeant said I was too smart for my own good, and gave

me a job cleaning latrines.

He said to me there is reading material

for you there, scholar. Read the writing on the walls. I spent the

war mopping floors and cleaning toilets.

“’When I came back to the Island, things had changed. You had

to have a college degree to teach school, even the lower grades.

My parents were sick, two of my brothers had been killed in the

war, the others had stayed in Nueva York. I was the only one

left to help the old people. I became a farmer. I married a good

6. “Then the war came, . . .” The United States entered World War II in 1941, after the

bombing of Pearl Harbor.

7. latrines (luh TREENZ) n. toilets.

IL17 UNIT 1 Independent Learning • An Hour With Abuelo

NOTES

woman who gave me many good children. I taught them all how

to read and write before they started school.’”

Abuelo then puts the notebook down on his lap and closes

his eyes.

“Así es la vida is the title of my book,” he says in a whisper,

almost to himself. Maybe he’s forgotten that I’m there.

For a long time he doesn’t say anything else. I think that he’s

sleeping, but then I see that he’s watching me through half-closed

lids, maybe waiting for my opinion of his writing. I’m trying to

think of something nice to say. I liked it and all, but not the title.

And I think that he could’ve been a teacher if he had wanted to

bad enough. Nobody is going to stop me from doing what I want

with my life. I’m not going to let la vida get in my way. I want

to discuss this with him, but the words are not coming into my

head in Spanish just yet. I’m about to ask him why he didn’t keep

fighting to make his dream come true, when an old lady in hot-

pink running shoes sort of appears at the door.

She is wearing a pink jogging outfit too. The world’s oldest

marathoner, I say to myself. She calls out to my grandfather in

a flirty voice, “Yoo-hoo, Arturo, remember what day this is? It’s

poetry-reading day in the rec room! You promised us you’d read

your new one today.”

I see my abuelo perking up almost immediately. He points to

his wheelchair, which is hanging like a huge metal bat in the open

closet. He makes it obvious that he wants me to get it. I put it

together, and with Mrs. Pink Running Shoes’s help, we get him in

it. Then he says in a strong deep voice I hardly recognize, “Arturo,

get that notebook from the table, please.”

I hand him another map-of-the-Island notebook—this one is

red. On it in big letters it says, POEMAS DE ARTURO.

I start to push him toward the rec room, but he shakes his finger

at me.

“Arturo, look at your watch now. I believe your time is over.”

He gives me a wicked smile.

Then with her pushing the wheelchair—maybe a little too fast—

they roll down the hall. He is already reading from his notebook,

and she’s making bird noises. I look at my watch and the hour is

up, to the minute. I can’t help but think that my abuelo has been

timing me. It cracks me up. I walk slowly down the hall toward

the exit sign. I want my mother to have to wait a little. I don’t

want her to think that I’m in a hurry or anything. ❧

UNIT 1 Independent Learning • An Hour With Abuelo IL18

Name:

Date:

An Hour With Abuelo

Judith Ortiz Cofer

DIRECTIONS:

Complete the following items after you finish your first read.

A conflict is a struggle between opposing forces. What is the narrator's conflict at

the beginning of the story?

What was Abuelo's dream in life?

What caused Abuelo to give up his dream?

How does Abuelo surprise the narrator?

To confirm your understanding of the text, write a summary of “An Hour With

Abuelo.”

DIRECTIONS:

Respond to these questions. Use textual evidence to support your

responses.

Evaluate

Does the author's use of Spanish add to or distract from the story?

Explain, citing specific examples.

(a)

Connect

Cite four details that the author includes to help readers understand

Abuelo. Explain what each shows about his character. (b)

Evaluate

How effective is

the author’s development of Abuelo’s character?

(a)

Draw Conclusions

How is the narrator changed by story events? (b)

Support

What details in the text support your conclusion?

Analyze

The story uses first-person narration—it is told by a character in the story.

How does the choice of narrator contribute to the effectiveness of the ending? Cite

details to support your analysis.

Essential Question:

What can one generation learn from another?

Both the

narrator and Abuelo experience a conflict between their own wishes and the duties

they must fulfill. How does learning about Abuelo’s conflict help the narrator to

resolve his own conflict? What does this story reveal about the surprising ways

people of different generations can learn from each other?

NOTES

BACKGROUND

The Yangtze River is one of the longest rivers in the world, flowing

3,915 miles across China, and emptying out into the East China Sea.

Throughout Chinese history, the Yangtze River has been a vital source of

life, providing food and enabling irrigation, transportation, and industry.

Yangtze is the river’s westernized name - in China it is called Chang

Jiang, meaning “Long River.”

ummertime at dusk we’d gather on the back porch, tired and

sticky from another day of fierce encoded quarrels, nursing

our mosquito bites and frail dignities, sisters in name only. At

first we’d pinch and slap each other, fighting for the best—least

ragged—folding chair. Then we’d argue over who would sit next

to our grandmother. We were so close together on the tiny porch

that we often pulled our own hair by mistake. Forbidden to bite,

we planted silent toothmarks on each others’ wrists. We ignored

the bulk of house behind us, the yard, the fields, the darkening

sky. We even forgot about our grandmother. Then suddenly we’d

hear her old, dry voice, very close, almost on the backs of our

necks.

“Xiushila! Shame on you. Fighting like a bunch of chickens.”

About the Author

Writer and novelist Lan Samantha Chang (b. 1965)

grew up in Appleton, Wisconsin, learning about China

from her Chinese immigrant parents. She has received

many awards, including a 2008 Guggenheim

Fellowship. Chang is currently the director of the

prestigious Iowa Writers’ Workshop.

Water Names

Lan Samantha Chang

SHORT STORY

UNIT 1 Independent Learning • Water Names IL10

NOTES

And Ingrid, the oldest, would freeze with her thumb and

forefinger right on the back of Lily’s arm. I would slide my hand

away from the end of Ingrid’s braid. Ashamed, we would shuffle

our feet while Waipuo calmly found her chair.

On some nights she sat with us in silence. But on some nights

she told us stories, “just to keep up your Chinese,” she said.

“In these prairie crickets I often hear the sound of rippling

water, of the Yangtze River,” she said. “Granddaughters, you are

descended on both sides from people of the water country, near

the mouth of the great Chang Jiang as it is called, where the river

is so grand and broad that even on clear days you can scarcely see

the other side.

“The Chang Jiang runs four thousand miles, originating in the

Himalaya mountains

where it crashes, flecked with gold dust,

down steep cliffs so perilous and remote that few humans have

ever seen them. In central China, the river squeezes through

deep gorges, then widens in its last thousand miles to the sea.

Our ancestors have lived near the mouth of this river, the ever-

changing delta, near a city called Nanjing, for more than a

thousand years.”

“A thousand years,” murmured Lily, who was only ten. When

she was younger she had sometimes burst into nervous crying at

the thought of so many years. Her small insistent fingers grabbed

my fingers in the dark.

“Through your mother and I you are descended from a line of

great men and women. We have survived countless floods and

seasons of ill-fortune because we have the spirit of the river in

us. Unlike mountains, we cannot be powdered down or broken

apart. Instead, we run together like raindrops. Our strength and

spirit wear down mountains into sand. But even our people must

respect the water.”

She paused. “When I was young, my own grandmother once

told me the story of Wen Zhiqing’s daughter. Twelve hundred

years ago the civilized parts of China still lay to the north, and

the Yangtze valley lay unspoiled. In those days lived an ancestor

named Wen Zhiqing, a resourceful man, and proud. He had been

fishing for many years with trained cormorants, which you girls

of course have never seen. Cormorants are sleek, black birds

with long, bending necks which the fishermen fitted with metal

rings so the fish they caught could not be swallowed. The birds

would perch on the side of the old wooden boat and dive into the

river.” We had only known blue swimming pools, but we tried to

imagine the sudden shock of cold and the plunge, deep into water.

“Now, Wen Zhiqing had a favorite daughter who was very

beautiful and loved the river. She would beg to go out on the boat

1. Himalaya Mountains mountain range in South Asia.

IL11 UNIT 1 Independent Learning • Water Names

NOTES

with him. This daughter was a restless one, never contented with

their catch, and often she insisted they stay out until it was almost

dark. Even then, she was not satisfied. She had been spoiled by

her father, kept protected from the river, so she could not see its

danger. To this young woman, the river was as familiar as the sky.

It was a bright, broad road stretching out to curious lands. She did

not fully understand the river’s depths.

“One clear spring evening, as she watched the last bird dive

off into the blackening waters, she said, ‘If only this catch would

bring back something more than another fish!’

“She leaned over the side of the boat and looked at the water.

The stars and moon reflected back at her. And it is said that the

spirits living underneath the water looked up at her as well. And

the spirit of a young man who had drowned in the river many

years before saw her lovely face.”

We had heard about the ghosts of the drowned, who wait

forever in the water for a living person to pull down instead.

A faint breeze moved through the mosquito screens and we

shivered.

“The cormorant was gone for a very long time.” Waipuo said,

“so long that the fisherman grew puzzled. Then, suddenly, the

bird emerged from the waters, almost invisible in the night. Wen

Zhiqing grasped his catch, a very large fish, and guided the boat

back to shore. And when Wen reached home, he gutted the fish

and discovered, in its stomach, a valuable pearl ring.”

“From the man?” said Lily.

“Sshh, she’ll tell you.”

Waipuo ignored us. “His daughter was delighted that her wish

had been fulfilled. What most excited her was the idea of an entire

world like this, a world where such a beautiful ring would be only

a bauble!

For part of her had always longed to see far away things

and places. The river had put a spell on her heart. In the evenings

she began to sit on the bank looking at her own reflection in

the water. Sometimes she said she saw a handsome young man

looking back at her. And her yearning for him filled her heart

with sorrow and fear, for she knew that she would soon leave her

beloved family.

“‘It’s just the moon, said Wen Zhiqing, but his daughter shook

her head. ‘There’s a kingdom under the water,’ she said. ‘The

prince is asking me to marry him. He sent the ring as an offering

to you.’ ‘Nonsense,’ said her father, and he forbade her to sit by

the water again.

“For a year things went as usual, but the next spring there came

a terrible flood that swept away almost everything. In the middle

of a torrential rain, the family noticed that the daughter was

2. bauble (BAW buhl) n. object of little value.

UNIT 1 Independent Learning • Water Names IL12

NOTES

missing. She had taken advantage of the confusion to hurry to the

river and visit her beloved. The family searched for days but they

never found her.”

Her smoky, rattling voice came to a stop.

“What happened to her?” Lily said.

“It’s okay, stupid,” I told her. She was so beautiful that she went

to join the kingdom of her beloved. Right?

“Who knows?” Waipuo said. “They say she was seduced by a

water ghost. Or perhaps she lost her mind to desiring.”

“What do you mean?” asked Ingrid.

“I’m going inside,” Waipuo said, and got out of her chair with a

creak. A moment later the light went on in her bedroom window.

We knew she stood before the mirror, combing out her long, wavy

silver-gray hair, and we imagined that in her youth she too had

been beautiful.

We sat together without talking. We had gotten used to

Waipuo’s abruptness, her habit of creating a question and leaving

without answering it, as if she were disappointed in the question

itself. We tried to imagine Wen Zhiqing’s daughter. What did she

look like? How old was she? Why hadn’t anyone remembered

her name?

While we weren’t watching, the stars had emerged. Their

brilliant pinpoints mapped the heavens. They glittered over us,

over Waipuo in her room, the house, and the small city we lived

in, the great waves of grass that ran for miles around us, the

ground beneath as dry and hard as bone. ❧

IL13 UNIT 1 Independent Learning • Water Names

Name:

Date:

Water Names

Lan Samantha Chang

DIRECTIONS:

Complete the following items after you finish your first read.

What do the narrator and her sisters do at dusk in the summertime?

Where did the narrator’s ancestors live?

When does the story of Wen Zhiqing’s daughter take place?

How did Waipuo learn the story of Wen Zhiqing’s daughter?

To confirm your understanding of the text, write a brief summary of “Water

Names.”

DIRECTIONS:

Respond to these questions. Use textual evidence to support your

responses.

(a)

Make Inferences

What inference can you make about Waipuo’s feelings toward

the Yangtze River? (b)

Support

What details in the text support your inference?

(a)

Make Inferences

In a work of fiction, the theme is a message or insight about

life. What is one theme in “Water Names”? (b)

Connect

What key details from the

story are combined to reveal that theme?

(a)

Analyze

How does Waipuo end the story? What effect does this ending have on

the reader?

(b)

Draw Conclusions

What conclusion can you draw about the

Waipuo’s reasons for telling her granddaughters the story and ending the story in

this particular way? In your answer, consider how the narrator and her sisters

respond to the story’s ending.

(a)

Contrast

How does the last sentence of the story contrast with the description of

where the family originally came from? (b)

Interpret

Why do you think the author

ends the text with “the great waves of grass that ran for miles around us, the ground

beneath us as dry and hard as a bone”?

Essential Question:

What can one generation learn from another?

Why might the

grandmother want to tell Chinese legends to her granddaughters? Do you think

these stories matter to the narrator and her sisters? Explain.