| the warrior is a child 05.16.02 |
| Do I want to cut from my neck up? Yes!! My allergies are making me miserable. I have such a hard time sleeping, and even just doing normal everyday things are strenuous. I'm blowing my nose all the time, which is stuffy, but nothing comes out. I'm coughing all the time and wheezing, yet my inhalor doesn't work, and I can't even laugh without having a coughing fit. Life on this end of the pollen count is exhausting. Aside from that, things are fine. I spent five hours on the phone with M. last night, which went by surprisingly quick, and even more surprising to me was that I was even on the phone. I'm not a phone person at all. Hushed conversations in my darkened room in the wee hours after 2 a.m. remind me of my pre-SF days, when my parents were (and now are) nagging me to sleep early. I had such a trying day at work yesterday. I was prepared for a fun art project where the kids would make their own passports. I had been using a travel theme all week, and knew that the kids would enjoy something non-academic. However, we never got there. I don't know what it was, but they were bouncing off the walls yesterday. There must have been something in the cereal they had for snack. It wasn't like they were rude to me, but they would not listen at all. I pretty much spoke to them in my "stern" voice ALL DAY, and that would quiet them down for awhile, but within a few minutes, they'd be chattering again. My voice was starting to go, especially since it was already raspy from coughing all morning. At the end of the day, I told them that instead of doing a FUN art project, we would be sitting quietly for five minutes straight. If anyone talked, we would start the five minutes over. "What if people keep talking and we have to keep starting over?" someone asked. I set a cold look in my eyes and said slowly and firmly, "Then we will be here--ALL--NIGHT." Gasps echoed around the room and I tried not to smile. Good. They were scared. The five minutes ended up being more like 10 and by then, it was time to bring the kids back to the multipurpose room to get them picked up. I like to stay until all my kids are gone, and since the 2nd grade is one of the biggest classes, it is inevitable that one of my kids are always there late. I was showing one of the little girls, Shawntres, my photo album from Hawaii since I had brought it to show another girl. It was 5:45 now, 15 minutes past the pick-up time. We call her mom and she says she will be here soon. The supervisor and some other teachers are still there. I pick up my stuff to leave and am about to head out because I'm drained and need to get away. Shawntres gives me a surprised look and asks, "Where are you going?" I tell her I'm going home because her mom is coming soon. "Then who's going to stay with me?" she asks sadly. "Do you want me to stay with you?" I ask her. She nods and for some reason, I want to just give her a big hug. So I stay and she's happy because she gets to finish looking at the pictures. This girl is not one of the best students in the class, and more often than not, I'm telling her to stop talking, stay on task, and stay in her seat. She's not one of those warm students who runs up to you with a hug. For the most part, she MIGHT say hi to you and give you a small smile. So when I saw this side of her, it made me take a step back and think, wait a second. No matter how much grief these kids give me, they are still KIDS. They still desire to be cared for and they still get scared when they think there is a boogieman in the bathroom. When they are goofing off in class, it's not because they don't like me. It's because they're restless kids who just don't want to do homework after being in school all day. And when I see that side of the child when they shed all pretenses of being tough, I'm reminded of why I originally wanted to try out working with kids. Because I remember that kids are vulnerable at this age, that they need to feel loved, that they need someone to care for them because they may not get that at home. And that's what being a teacher is all about. |
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