A funny thought occurred to me today.
My third-graders have two recesses
each day, during which I take laps. It's the best way to keep an eye on the
students and get my daily step count. All year, more than others years
(combined), I have not gone one single lap without hearing my name, a "guess
what?", a random question and/or
comment, a "so-and-so is hurt," a "so-and-so is crying," or
students wanting to race me or fly them to Africa. You have to love the
super-randomness of children.
It's nice being so well-liked,
but honestly, it's exhausting and maddening. I appreciate how comfortable they
are with me and will miss those times when I can interact with them in a silly
way evoking pure-hearted giggles. From them, not me. But give me one, maybe two, laps of silence. Please!
My funny thought was how I would
never have considered doing any of that with my elementary school teachers.
Most were standoffish, but I'd mostly want to enjoy playing kickball and chasing
girls. I don't remember much before third grade, but Mrs. Phillips was my
favorite. But to follow her around asking questions? No way! Especially after she
made me stay inside after throwing a wet paper towel at Amy. I missed tug-of-war
that day, sitting alone in the classroom as the yells and cheers flooded through
the open windows. Funny to think how today, we could never get away with having
a child sit alone in a classroom.
My fourth-grade teacher, Ms. McG,
had a drinking problem and severely lacked a wardrobe, wearing the same blue
dress (or was it was a muumuu) every day – so it seemed. The only good memory I
have of her was when she gave us an hour-long recess. Along with my issues with
bullies, it was a year to forget. During the same year, my principal told me to
run as fast as possible into a cement pole. Thankfully he stopped me before I
did. It was a rough first year in a new school. No amount of money would convince
me to have a recess chat with Ms. McG.
My fifth-grade teacher, Mr. S,
was tall, loud, and standoffish like Ms. McG, and my sloppy writing reminds me
of his chicken-scratch. The only silver lining was he read A Wrinkle in Time
- don't get me started on Disney's atrocious film version. I'd imagine a
recess conversation with him - there wasn't a single one - would be as intimidating
as confronting Count Olaf. Without the silly (and evil) antics.
It's sad most of my teachers
weren't approachable. I struggle to teach students the importance of problem-solving
without coming up to my table every time they have a question (literally a
thousand times a day). Seriously, it's nearly driven me to drink some days. And
I haven't touched a drop of alcohol since, well, ever. The fine line between being
unapproachable and establishing a safe environment can be difficult to maneuver.
But I must be doing something right since there isn't a minute where someone
doesn't approach me with a question I've already answered- or has no relevance
whatsoever.
2 comments:
It is funny! I’m with you, I’d never felt comfortable enough with my teachers to chat with them. I think the kind of relationship you have with the students is a healthier relationship. I’m reminded of a quote, “sage on the stage or guide on the side”. There is a place for both and just maybe recess is the place to be more by their side. It gives you a break too.
"Mr. S." told me I would never graduate high school. He had no idea what to do with my youthful exuberance. A classmate who lived on a farm brought in a goat once for show-and-tell which I thought was the coolest thing ever...until it inevitably peed on the classroom floor and Mr. S started yelling at me, "WHAT DID YOU DO??!" Pretty sure I did not cause that.
I slipped on the ice at recess one day, hit my head and saw stars. I just remember looking up and seeing Mr. S. wagging his long, Ichabod-Crane-like finger in my face telling me I deserved to get hurt.
He is no measuring stick for elementary school teachers. You are so kind to share your attention with these kiddoes. They will remember, Ryan.
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