by Penny Warner
Country Codes
Countries
Afghanistan
Australia
Brazil
Canada
China
France
India
Iran
Ireland
Israel
Italy
Japan
Kenya
Mexico
Pakistan
Philippines
Russia
Thailand
Turkey
United Kingdom
Vietnam
Code Busters Key and Solution found here and here.
Cody went to work translating the Morse code list into country abbreviations, using her Morse code decoder card. She soon had all the codes deciphered and started matching them to their countries. Though she got stuck on a few, eventually she figured out each pairing. Then she circled the two countries that applied to her background—Ireland and the United Kingdom.
Once all the students were finished, Ms. Stad continued. “Remember how we’ve been talking about where our ancestors lived before they immigrated to the United States to find a better life? Many of them either landed at the Angel Island Immigration Station on the West Coast or came through Ellis Island on the East Coast. We’re going to be studying genealogy and creating family trees, so Mr. Pike and I thought you’d enjoy visiting the place where some of your relatives might have landed when they first arrived.”
Francesco’s hand shot up. “My great-great-grandparents came from Italy and went through Ellis Island. I saw their names in a big book when we visited New York last year. They had to stay there three days because my great-great-grandmother was sick and they wouldn’t let them leave until she was better. They almost got sent back to Italy.”
“That happened a lot, Francesco,” Ms. Stad said. “The immigration department was very strict about who they let into our country. A person had to be healthy, with no criminal record, and have a place to live and work. If they didn’t meet those requirements, they were either turned back or they had to stay on the island, sometimes for weeks or even years.”
Wow, Cody thought. It was sad to think that a family could come all the way to America hoping for a better life and then end up in jail or have to turn back.
“I’m adopted,” Jodie said. “I don’t know where my birth parents are from.”
Ms. Stad was about to say something when Matt interrupted again.
“Mine are from New Jersey,” he shouted out.
Ms. Stad shook her head. “Matthew, your ancestors may have ended up in New Jersey, but they had to come from somewhere before that.”
“Well, they came from Italy like Francesco’s,” Matt said. “One of them was a real actual pirate.”
“Yeah, right,” said Liam in the back.
Matt turned around and glared at him. “It’s true. His name was Vincenzo Gambi, and he was a pirate with Jean Lafitte in New Orleans.”
Ordinarily, Cody would’ve assumed Matt was just making up stories for attention. But those names sounded pretty specific—not like something Matt would come up with on his own. Maybe he was telling the truth.
“That’s interesting, Matthew,” Ms. Stad, her eyebrow raised. “Uh, anyone else? M.E.?”
“My background is American Indian and Mexican,” M.E. answered. “Everyone on my mom’s side is from Mexico, and my relatives on my dad’s side are Cherokee. I’m the only real American here!”
“We’re all real Americans,” Ms. Stad said. “But we all have different ancestry. Some people call the United States a melting pot, but I prefer to think of it as a salad bowl. We all live and play and work together, but we still keep parts of our own backgrounds and cultures.”
“If we’re a salad, I wanna be the big tomato,” Matt said in an Italian accent.
Ms. Stad eyed him. “Matthew.”
Matt tucked his head down. He began drawing furiously on the paper in front of him.
Ms. Stad continued. “We’ll begin preparing for our expedition to Angel Island by creating our family trees.”
She began passing out papers to the students. Cody took hers from Matt and saw that it was blank.
“I’d like you to draw the trunk of the tree at the bottom of your paper and label it with your name.” Ms. Stad demonstrated on the board by drawing a trunk and adding the words “Ms. Stadelhofer” at the bottom. “Next, draw two branches, one on either side, and write down the names of your parents.” She showed them what to do. “Then above each of their names, draw two more branches and write the names of your grandparents on both sides. Stop when you’ve finished that much.”
The students began their drawings, following Ms. Stad’s suggestions. Matt turned around in his seat and glanced at Cody’s picture of a tree trunk.
“That looks more like a volcano,” he said, grinning.
“Matt, you’re being rude,” Ms. Stad said. “Turn around and do your own work.”
“Rude is my ’tude, dude,” Matt whispered to Cody before he obeyed the teacher’s command. Cody shook her head and returned her attention to creating her family tree.
After drawing a trunk at the bottom, she carefully wrote her full name inside: Dakota Jones. Underneath she added her younger sister’s name, Montana. Neither of the girls had a middle name. Her mother said it was a family tradition.
Next, she drew a branch on the right side of the trunk and wrote her mother’s name: “Susan O’Gara.” She drew another branch on the other side and wrote her father’s name: “Matthew Scott Jones.”
Cody had met all her grandparents, although she didn’t see them much anymore, since they still lived up north in the California Gold Country. Her mother’s parents—Nana and Papa—were named Colleen and Casey O’Gara. She knew their ancestors were Irish, but she didn’t know much more than that. On her dad’s side were Pop-Pop and Grammie—also known as Matthew and Mary Jones. They came from a Scottish background, but she was clueless about anything more.
Cody glanced over at M.E.’s tree. It was already filling up. Cody wondered how M.E. would fit all her aunts and uncles and cousins on the tree. She had a big family.
When the students were done with their tree trunks and lower branches, Ms. Stad said, “All right, everyone, here’s your homework for tonight. First, find out the names of the next generation of your ancestors—your great-grandparents—if you can.”
Cody thought that part would be easy. All she had to do was ask her parents about their grandparents.
Ms. Stad started passing out another paper. “Next,” Ms. Stad continued, “use your decoder cards to decipher the International Alphabet Flag Code on the homework sheet, and follow the instructions once you’ve cracked the code.”
Cody recognized the flag code immediately. The Code Busters often used it to send secret messages. Each flag stood for a different letter of the alphabet. It would take a few minutes to decipher, but it wouldn’t be hard.
Code Busters Key and Solution found here and here.
“And finally,” Ms. Stad said, “remember I told you that many of Angel Island’s immigrants were kept for a long period of time at the immigration station? Well, some of the Chinese immigrants scratched out poems on the walls while they waited to be released. There’s a copy of one of the poems on your homework paper. Isla, would you please read the poem aloud?”
Isla sat up straight, took a breath, and began to read:
Waiting, watching clouds above, the sky darkens.
Now the moon fades behind the billowing fog.
Freedom flies just out of reach, leaving sadness.
Soon, despair fills the heart and the clouds cry.
“Thank you, Isla,” Ms. Stad said. “That poem was written by a Chinese immigrant while he was on Angel Island, waiting to enter the United States. These kinds of poems are often written to fit inside a square, with each line exactly the same length. For your homework, I’d like each of you to write a poem about how it would feel to stay for a long
time at Angel Island, not knowing when, or if, you would ever be allowed into this country. This time, instead of a haiku, please write your poem in the style of the Chinese poem. The next poem on your paper explains the assignment. MariaElena, would you please read that poem?”
M.E. smiled at being called on and began to read:
In the first line, express the idea.
For the second, expand on that thought.
With the third line, add something new.
Then in the fourth line, tie everything together.
“Thank you, MariaElena,” Ms. Stad said. “Students, that second poem tells you how to write your own poem.”
Cody had already begun thinking about what she’d say in her poem, but Ms. Stad wasn’t finished.
“One more thing, class. Many of the poems that the Chinese immigrants wrote on the walls at Angel Island had hidden messages within them. See if you can figure out the secret message in the first poem we read.”
Cool, Cody thought. A message hidden in a poem. But would she be able to solve it?
After school, Cody, M.E., and Mika headed up the hill to the Code Busters Clubhouse hidden in Berkeley’s eucalyptus forest. The girls were on their way to meet the other two Code Buster members, Luke and Quinn, and find out if the boys had the same mysterious homework assignment.
When the girls arrived at the clubhouse, made out of old billboards and covered with a camouflage parachute, Cody gave the secret knock—her initials in Morse code:
Code Busters Key and Solution found here and here.
Then she called out the password, “Yadnom”—the day of the week said backward. The girls waited for the door to unlock and open. A moment later, they were greeted by Quinn and Luke.
“Were you followed?” Quinn asked, peering outside to look for strangers, lurkers, or spies.
“No,” Cody answered, although she couldn’t be sure. Matt the Brat often tailed them when they headed for the clubhouse. “At least, I didn’t see anyone.”
“No mountain lions either,” M.E. added, then shivered. The Code Busters had already had one close encounter with the wild animal. While M.E. loved animals, she was always on the alert for the more dangerous ones.
“Good,” Quinn said, as the girls entered. “Did you hear about Friday’s field trip?”
The girls removed their backpacks and sat down cross-legged on the carpeted floor that covered their hidden stash of code-busting supplies. Luke was keying in something on this cell phone, and Cody wondered what was up.
“Yeah, we’re going to Angel Island!” M.E. said. “Did you guys get the same homework assignment?” She showed Luke and Quinn the paper Ms. Stad had given them.
“Yep, same one from Mr. Pike,” Quinn said. “Luke’s looking up some of the country codes we’re stuck on.”
“Got them!” Luke announced, glancing up from his phone. “IE stands for Ireland, and IN is India.” He and Quinn filled in the answers on their homework papers.
“We got all of those,” Cody said, “but we can’t figure out the Chinese poem. It’s supposed to have a hidden message in it.”
“Oh yeah,” said Luke. “Mr. Pike said when the poem was written in Chinese, the characters lined up to form a square.”
“That’s what Ms. Stad said too,” Cody replied. “But I tried lining up all the words and they came out uneven.” She showed them the work she’d done on another sheet of paper.
Waiting, watching clouds above, the sky darkens
Now, the moon fades behind the billowing fog
Freedom flies just out of reach leaving sadness
Soon, despair fills the heart and the clouds cry
“See? The first line has seven words, the second and third lines have eight words, and the last line has nine words. They don’t make a square. And even when I squish all the words and letters together, it’s still uneven.” She showed them the back of the paper with the jagged right edge.
Waitingwatchingcloudsabovetheskydarkens.
Nowthemoonfadesbehindthebillowingfog.
Freedomfliesjustoutofreachleavingsadness.
Soondespairfillstheheartandthecloudscry.
Mika nodded. “Yeah, but the problem is, I bet it only forms a square when you use Chinese characters, not English words.”
“Right!” said Quinn, smiling at her. “I’m taking a Chinese class on Saturdays, and I’m learning to write in Mandarin. This poem would look totally different in its native language.”
“So can you translate the poem back into Chinese characters?” asked Cody eagerly.
Quinn shook his head. “I’m not that fluent. But I don’t think we need to do that. I think we’re looking at this the wrong way.”
“How are we supposed to look at it?” M.E. asked.
Quinn held up his paper. “Well, the only words that line up evenly in the English version are the first words of each line. See?”
“Yeah, so?” M.E. said, squinting at the poem. “That’s how most poems are written.”
“True,” Quinn said, “so read the words in the poem that do line up perfectly.”
Cody studied the poem a moment, running her finger down the first words on the left-hand side. “Cool!” she said, finally seeing what Quinn meant.
M.E. shook her head, frowning. “I still don’t get it. Mika, do you see it?”
Mika stared at the paper. Then her face lit up. “Yes!” She turned to M.E. “Here. Read the first words in each line.”
M.E. said the four words aloud. Her eyes widened. “You think that’s the hidden message?”
“It has to be,” Mika said. “Since the poem was written at the Angel Island immigration station, those four words together make perfect sense.”
M.E. read the four words aloud again, pausing after the first comma. “It sounds so sad,” she said.
Mika shook her head. “I think it sounds hopeful.”
The kids were quiet for a few moments as they thought about the hidden message of sadness and hopefulness. Cody pulled out a sheet of paper, suddenly inspired to create her own poem about what it would be like to be stuck on Angel Island after a long voyage. Using Ms. Stad’s instructions, she began writing two lines about being on the island; a third line that added something new; and finally, a line that tied everything together. The others followed her lead, but Cody was done first.
A Poem about Angel Island
by Cody Jones
Away from my country, adrift at sea,
Hoping for a new life and home.
I’m not welcome at this place.
Living, and waiting, between two worlds.
When she was finished, she read the poem to the other Code Busters, who were working on their own poems.
“Not bad,” Luke said, giving it a thumbs-up.
“Yeah,” M.E. added. “You’re awesome at writing poems.”
Cody shrugged. “But there’s no hidden message in it.”
“Yes, there is,” Mika said. “Read the first words from each line—away, hoping, I’m, living. That says it all!”
Cody grinned. “I guess that works.”
After half an hour or so, all five kids had finished their Chinese-style poems, complete with hidden messages. It wasn’t easy, but Cody thought that adding a message made the poem more fun.
“What’s the next part of the assignment?” M.E. asked.
“We’re supposed to find out more about our heritage,” Cody said. “I know my grandparents’ families are from Ireland and the United Kingdom, and that some of my ancestors came to America because there was a big famine. I’ll have to ask my mom and dad to tell me more when I get home.”
“Me too,” M.E. said. “I’m part Mexican and part Cherokee, but I don’t know exactly where my relatives came from or how long they’ve lived in this area.”
“Mine are all from Japan,” Mika said. “Actually, my great-great-grandparents came here a long time ago and were at Angel Island before they moved to San Francisco.”
“No way!
” said Cody. “Why didn’t you mention that in class?”
Mika shrugged. “Well, it seemed like a lot of people wanted to talk about their ancestors. There wasn’t time for everyone to share a story.”
Typical Mika, thought Cody. Unlike Matt, who always wanted to be the center of attention, Mika was good at listening to others.
“But if your great-great-grandparents immigrated here, how come you weren’t born here?” asked M.E.
Mika explained, “After they died, their son—my great-grandfather—moved back to Japan. Most of my relatives still live in Tokyo. That’s where my parents and I lived until my dad got a job here. I’m curious about what the immigration station was like, since my ancestors were actually there.”
“Same for me,” said Quinn. “I think some of my relatives may have stayed on Angel Island for a while too. My mom has a big book full of stuff about our family. I know my great-great-grandfather was born in the Guangdong Province of southern China, and I’ve heard stories about my great-grandparents coming to the United States because they were so poor. But now I’m excited to find out more.”
Luke shrugged. “I don’t know much about my family. My grand-mere took me in when my parents died. She’s Creole, from Louisiana—part French, part Spanish, part African. She said some of our relatives also came from Haiti. She doesn’t talk about them much because they’re hard to track down. I think if you go back far enough, a lot of our ancestors were slaves.”
The kids were quiet for a moment. Cody couldn’t imagine what it must have been like when slavery was legal in so many places, including the United States. She wondered if there was a way the Code Busters could help Luke find out more about his family background.
“We’d better get to work on drawing our country flags,” Mika said, breaking the silence. “They’re due tomorrow.”
The Code Busters got out fresh sheets of white paper, plus their colored markers. They drew flags based on their heritage and colored them in.
