EDUCATION Cheryl Blati's Fifth Gracie ti The Magical World Of Classroom 121 AMY J. MEHLER Staff Writer T here were 10 minutes to go before the bell rang, but 10-year-old Melissa Levi hurried out of her red-and-white snow jacket and rushed inside her fifth-grade classroom at Leonhard Elementary School. The sound of soft jazz piano and guitar music filled the MOM. First in an occasional series about life in the fifth grade. Down the hall dashed Douglas Burda and Danny Weiss, still chewing on 10- cent bagels the volunteers from Leonhard's Parent Teacher Association sell every Friday morning. Inside the classroom, Marlon Gisi and Josh Linton were enjoying a heated discussion on the Detroit Tigers. Marlon defended the honor of Cecil Fielder. "He hit 51 homers," he shouted, a little red in the face. Marlene Jajou and Anita Alosachi inspected each other's lunches from the tops of their desks. A couple feet away sat Jonelle Thomas and Jennifer Kurland, their heads buried deep in books. Dwight Levens and Justin Moses kept looking at the clock. Standing in the doorway was the teacher, Cheryl Blau, 30, shaking hands with each student, a wide 76 FRIDAY, JANUARY 24, 1992 smile on her face. She was wearing the same outfit she wears every school spirit day: a black-and-yellow let- tered Leonhard sweatshirt; a black skirt; opaque, black tights; little, black-ribbed socks; and a pair of low- heeled black boots. Melissa said good morning and dropped her knapsack, a heavy vinyl book bag bulg- ing with all sorts of fifth- grade necessities — see- through rulers, pink and red folders, pencil boxes with animal stickers on them, a packet of crayons, green- and-white striped suckers. "For emergencies," Melissa explained. Rodrick Hobbs and Michael Moses stopped pok- ing each other long enough to notice Miss Blau had hung their "Why I Am Spe- cial and Unique" posters, fashioned after medieval shields out of construction paper. One student, in a "car axi- dent (sic)," decided that made him unique. "I'm good in math, 2 +2 +4," someone else wrote. Tiffany Edwards stood next to another wall covered with "Twenty-five Reasons To Be Happy." She drew pic- tures of some of her favorite things: pizzas, TVs, books, friends, Miss Blau. Suddenly, the bell rang and Miss Blau walked in. "I'd like to thank everyone this morning for signing in," she said smiling, looking at the class attendance jar. Melissa glanced over to the round table in the corner. Miss Blau's attendance jar was dwarfed by a long, black guitar case, a big, round globe and a cardboard box full of shiny coins Miss Blau had brought back from Thailand. Against the wall hung a huge world map. Jasleen Kishmish and Sherry Kraft were there, sticking their clothespins around the side of a large, round metal jar Miss Blau uses to count attendance. Melissa squirmed in her seat, finally settling into a cross-legged position. A voice boomed over the intercom. The class rose to its feet. "I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America . . . " they Cheryl Blau leads class in discussion on "Hershel and the Hanukkah Goblins." Photos by Glenn Triest —4 L to R: Rodrick Hobbs and pal, Dwight Levens, steal a break from instrumental music class. recited. The class stood erect, hands against their hearts, saying it like they meant it. When it was over, they sat down. Miss Blau put the music back on. "I'll be coming around now to check journals," she an- nounced while she gathered supplies. Melissa lifted the top of her new brown desk and pulled out a green, spiral notebook. Thumbing to an empty page, she took out a pointy, yellow pencil and bit down hard on the eraser. Yanking on the ends of her straight brown ponytail, she looked up toward the ceiling. A dimple dented her cheek. "If I married a billionaire," her pencil scratched, "I would live in a manchine (sic) with a pool in the back and tennis courts on the side. I would have six big, black German shepherds outside so burglars couldn't come in." Every morning, the 26 boys and girls in Miss Blau's fifth grade escape into the pages of their journals, recording the vignettes of everyday life, dreaming up adventures far away from their Southfield classroom. Marlon, a child of 10, fan- tasized about playing for the Detroit Tigers. Brown- haired, brown-eyed Elizabeth Mathis Rogers dreamed of a career as a fashion model. Her desk partner, Anita, couldn't decide between becoming a fashion designer or a lawyer. "I know, I can be both," she said, tossing back her long, black hair. Miss Blau was coming around with a stamp pad. She had to weave in between clusters of desks. "Over here, Miss Blau" . . . "I want to show you something, Miss Blau" . . . "Guess what I did last night" . . . students clamored. No one was worried, be- cause Miss Blau gets to everyone, bending over each desk to read the journal en- tries. "I like that, Chantal," Miss Blau said, shaking Chantal Shaw's hand. Chan- tal had a dream she needed