If Donna werent as Donna is, who it be that Donna was?

ThisisEVIL!
The angry English teacher turned hot red with fury as she read Mastersons sentence, a
sentence in which he was merely playing with the various tenses of the copular verb. It wasnt
often that one would see multiple tenses of to be in one sentence like that. Masterson simply
wanted to know what such a sentence would sound like or even what it would look like.
He knew it meant nothing, that which had caused Mrs. Apelsin to go fucking haywire.
And yet, he was laughing. And even though Mrs. Apelsin was becoming increasingly furious
over this inane sentence, Masterson couldnt stop laughing.
That sentencethose wordsseemed to exude some kind of linguistic pheromone that
caused an irrepressible physiological response in Masterson. It wasnt erotic. It was funny. The
words made no real sense, yet they tickled his ears in such a way that he had to laugh. Mrs.
Apelsin, enraged, took her young student to the principals office.
Masterson felt embarrassed, but it wasnt really his own embarrassment being felt. It was
Mrs. Apelsins shame. He could feel it being projected onto him like a movie at a drive-in
theater.
What is it this time, Masterson? asked Principal Barkley. He looked at Masterson
almost sympathetically, begrudgingly wearing his stern authoritative demeanor that was required
of him in such circumstances.
Hes writing nonsense! Hes making a fool out of me and being completely disrespectful
of the English language, said Mrs. Apelsin.

She handed the principal the paper with the nonsensical sentence. Principal Barkley read
the sentence and smirked. He looked up at Masterson, who had since ceased laughing, feeling
anxious and sitting there quietly. Barkley looked back at Mrs. Apelsin.
Is this it? he asked.
Well, yes. But as you can see, its an absolute mockery of my English class, she said.
Actually, I dont see such a thing, Mrs. Apelsin. I see a funny sentence, nothing more.
Masterson had to hide his smile from the two adults. He secretly adored Barkley.
Barkley could see that Mrs. Apelsin greatly desired some form of reprimand for
Masterson, but the only thing Barkley could say was, Masterson, try to stay focused and keep
your writing relevant. Mrs. Apelsin left the principals office in a huff while Masterson
followed. He looked back at Barkley, who flashed him a discreet smile.
Words were the source of all things in Mastersons life: sadness and joy, pain and
comfort, depression and inspiration, life and death. Mrs. Apelsin was an angry textbook thumper.
If it wasnt in the textbook, then it didnt exist. Anything outside an approved literary work was
bad. And, lucky for Masterson, he hated everything that was approved. His first grade class
had been reading a short storybook titled Cat Goes to the Vet about the riveting story of a house
cats first visit to the veterinarian. Mrs. Apelsin had the class read the book from cover to cover
again and again in an attempt to teach everyone to read. But Masterson already knew how to
read, at least, he could certainly read that damn book.
As his classmates read each paragraph out loud, Masterson stared at the clock on the
wall, his eyes dry and tired, watching the second hand tick excruciatingly slow. He could feel

ants crawling beneath his skin; the irritation caused him to bounce his leg up and down as a
distraction. He started biting his nails. His poor nails. They were stubs by now. He wanted to
either collapse into a coma or run out of that classroom screaming. Mrs. Apelsin had assigned the
students to write sentences of their own to add to the dull and lifeless story, which is why
Masterson had written the aforementioned sentence. Somehow though, time passed by.
At home, Masterson could delve into the really good stuff, the kinds of things he really
wanted to study: other languages, foreign places, and the arts. He had recently been exploring
Germanic and Scandinavian languages. He could count to ten in German and Swedish and was
teaching himself how to read in those languages, too. He found it wasnt as hard as it looked.
Much of what hed already learned in English could be applied to German and Swedish,
although he had no idea what those Swedes were doing with that sj sound. Were they just
blowing air through their lips? What he found especially interesting was the number six in
Swedish: sex. What a fun word.
Although he was precocious and could get on peoples nerves, what Masterson really
wanted more than anything was to share what he had learned and discovered on his own. None
of his classmates even knew this shit existed--Swedish and German and cities like Stockholm
and Berlin. This is important! And so, at school the previous week, Masterson had felt an
undeniable compulsion to share with his class the Swedish numbers from one to ten. He grabbed
a dry erase marker while Mrs. Apelsin was distracted by something at the other end of classroom
and wrote out each number on the whiteboard. Of course, sex was included, which got a number
of students riled up.

Its the Swedish word for six, said Masterson as his peers oooed with nervous looks
and hands over their mouths. Masterson rolled his eyes. Grow up, he said. Just then Mrs.
Apelsin saw what had been written on the board and she blew a gasket.
What is this?! she yelled. This is absolutely inappropriate! This is disgusting!
Masterson wrote it, said Billy, the class tattletale. He pointed at Masterson. Mrs.
Apelsin gave Masterson a gravely serious look, her jaw clenched. Were going to the principals
office!
Masterson felt guilty, but he also knew that people all over Sweden, including kids, were
saying sex out loud. It was just a number. Yes, he was aware of the English meaning, but
surely theres enough room in Mrs. Apelsins mind for an alternative meaning to sex. And even
if there wasnt, sex isnt a swear word.
Mrs. Apelsin manhandled Masterson over to Principal Barkleys office. When Barkley
saw them, Masterson could see him sigh, dropping his shoulders and setting his pen down.
What is it now, Masterson? asked Barkley.
This young man wrote a very inappropriate word on the whiteboard. Tell the principal
what you wrote, said Mrs. Apelsin.
I was teaching the class how to count from one to ten in Swedish and I wrote sex
because thats how you say six in Swedish, said Masterson. He stood there confidently,
although he had butterflies in his stomach.

Mrs. Apelsin, if Masterson wants to educate his classmates in a new language, whats
the big deal? asked Barkley. Masterson tried to hide his smile. Mrs. Apelsin huffed and
guffawed.
Butbut sex! Thats absolutely inappropriate for a first grade class. Sex! She cried.
Mrs. Apelsin, your students dont know a thing about sex, except the word itself, and
today Masterson taught them that sex can mean six in another language. Whats the problem?
Besides, they can watch real American sex just by flipping on the TV!
I dont want them watching any kind of sex, said Mrs. Apelsin.
Well, if my kids were to see something sexual on TV, Id prefer it be from Sweden
anyway. Europeans always have a better attitude towards sex than Americans, commented
Barkley.
Mrs. Apelsin could see that Barkley was on Mastersons side. She gave up and turned
back, walking towards her classroom. Masterson stood in front of the principals desk for a
moment, silent. Principal Barkley smiled and leaned forward in his leather reclining chair.
You seem to have a particular skill for getting under your teachers skin, he said.
I know I make her mad, but, replied Masterson.
Its not your fault. Just try to go easy on her. Mrs. Apelsin has never had a student like
you before.
Am I bad? asked Masterson.
Barkley frowned.

No. Of course not. Youre justdifferent. Youre unique. Uniqueness always gets a
person in trouble. You have to learn to defend yourself. Now go back to class and try not to upset
your teacher.
Although the sex incident was rather quickly forgotten, the Donna incident really got
on Mrs. Apelsins nerves and when the two had returned to the classroom from the principals
office, Mrs. Apelsin made Masterson rewrite the sentence on the board in front of everyone,
except he had to write it in a way that made sense and was grammatically correct.
Now class, Mr. Masterson is going to demonstrate an example of proper English,
announced Mrs. Apelsin.
Masterson walked up to the whiteboard and held the marker in his hand. He found it
rather insufferable to rewrite his sentence, but he did it anyway.
If Donna wasnt who she is now, who did Donna used to be?
Excellent. See, class? Thats an example of proper English usage and grammar, said
Mrs. Apelsin, smiling.
But doesnt it just say the same thing? asked Janelle.
Janelle was the only black girl in class. Not the only ethnic minority, but the only black
student. All the kids, including Masterson, looked at her in surprise. Janelle wasnt a
troublemaker. She never got on Mrs. Apelsins bad side.
Not really, Janelle, said Mrs. Apelsin. Mastersons first sentence had big grammatical
errors. We never use werent with a third person pronoun and be is in the infinitive. Werent
is only for second person singular and plural, first person plural, and third person plural.

But my mama always talks like that, said Janelle. Is she speaking wrong?
There was a hush over the class. Mrs. Apelsin could practically hear the accusations of
racial discrimination that would be lodged against her if she told Janelle that her mother spoke
incorrectly. The whole Ebonics debate from Oakland had caused a national uproar and that was
the last thing she needed in her life. Her heart palpitated as she tried to come up with an answer.
But Masterson beat her to it.
Actually, while we normally use werent with the pronouns you, we, and they, this
sentence is in the subjunctive mood. The subjunctive mood, which expresses wishes, desires, and
hypothetical scenarios, is an interesting case in English because, although we have it, we dont
really notice it being used. Whats more, in the olden days, the subjunctive was expressed with
the use of werent and be with third person singular pronouns. So, while my original sentence
about Donna is a bit strange, its actually grammatically correct to say If Donna werent.
The class was totally silent, including Mrs. Apelsin. Masterson remained standing by the
whiteboard, pen in hand. In an effort to break the awkward vibes, he slowly reached for the
whiteboard eraser and erased the sentences before sitting back down at his desk. Mrs. Apelsin
cleared her throat and resumed with the days English lesson as if nothing had happened.
Gradually, time passed by, and soon the school day was over, much to Mastersons relief.
He slung his backpack on and was almost out of the classroom when Mrs. Apelsin stopped him.
Please try to let other students do some of the talking next time, Mr. Masterson, she
said, as if his classmates had all been clamoring to explain the English subjunctive earlier.
Ja, Frau Apelsin. Es ist klar wie Klobrhe!

Masterson! Get back here and translate what you just said!
But Masterson was long gone.