"into marvelous light i'm running...
by the cross you are the way, the truth, the life.

lift my hands and spin around, see the light that i have found
oh the marvelous light, the marvelous light!"


Thursday, March 17, 2011

my lovely little chicken/frog/student

i met her last year, through my assistant teacher. in december, the school hired a wonderful woman to be my assistant teacher in prek3. (why she was hired in december is a whole seperate story.) she is wonderful, originally from mexico, beautiful, kind, patient, and i learned from her everyday what it means to go through life with a servant's heart. when we made to-do lists in the morning, she would sign up for anything and everything. i always had to be firm and say, no, really, let me take care of that. you have enough on your plate.

so when my lovely co-teacher's second grade daughter would come visit us last year, i knew something was up when this patient lady would roll her eyes and snap at her daughter's friend. daughter's friend is named, dee, we'll call her. dee brought a new definition to the word hyper. dee would be told things two to three times before they registered, by both her friends and her teachers. when my assistant teacher found out i'd be teaching third grade next year (this year), one of the first things she said was watch out for dee. she is a sweet child, but trouble, as you know. haha. boy, do i know.

dee will always have a special place in my heart. i truly think we'll keep in touch when i'm done with this gig in june. i know that i have gray hairs somewhere on my head from her.

i write today to share a story i've been meaning to post for months, and to share a card from her that she wrote me friday of spring break, and had tears in her eyes when she gave it to me. "i will miss you everyday next week, ms. robinson." through all her tantrums and all my stern conversations, snapping my fingers or whispering in her face, we're tight. she calls me her 2nd mom - I keep detangler in my room and a brush just for her - 3/5 days a week I'm brushing her during the first moments of our daily routine in class.

dee is really a sweet child. very caring, very thoughtful. gives little notes to her peers or pep talks or whatever they need. if someone is having an off day, i assign dee to be their partner at lunch. instantly they're giggling and talking about nonsense (and being far too noisy.) she is a bright, intelligent child and if she harnesses her rambunctiousness, she may very well be president of this country by the time she's done. she is a bullet on the soccer field and remembers almost every detail from every lesson i teach.

i don't understand her mind or how it works. she will be able to swim on a table - lying on her back, all body parts off the ground, swimming her arms in the back of the room, and still shout out correct answers to whatever i'm asking at the front of the room. "Dee!" I will snap. "I have not called on you! Wait your turn to speak. Respect your peers." I think the entire class has that response memorized.

Now that you have the background, allow your mind to enter my classroom in late October. Entering behind you is my Teach for America "PD" - basically mentor/boss even though we are paid by the school. Entering behind her is her boss - a great woman I've known for two years now, but can be quite intimidating for us lowly teachers. Especially those of us who taught prek but now try to survive in third grade. I'm very much a first year all over again.

We're doing a read-aloud, please grab a book and join us. I don't remember the story but I know it was going well. We were reading, stopping to ask questions, make self-to-text or text-to-text connections, dissect vocabulary words, all of it was flowing, and flowing well. I was actually - gasp! - teaching. Some students were on the floor, others in chairs, we looked like a team, I looked like a teacher that maybe had control of the classroom.

Oops, I spoke too soon. Dee does not grasp the concept that her teachers are observed to make sure they're not screwing up her future - she thinks that she is observed. Lightbulbs go off in that brain of hers, and they begin to light the stage on which she will perform.

My lovely Dee, not two minutes after they entered the room, began flipping through her book, ignoring my prompts to stay on the correct page, and swinging upside down in her chair. Move your chair to the back, Dee, you are now in the solution seat. I kept rolling with the lesson. She eventually moved. She put the book under her chair, flipped her feet towards the ceiling, and began to read aloud over my voice. I will call on you when it is your turn, Dee. That is inappropriate. I am moving you down our behavior chart. She didn't care.

It was showtime. Dee closed her book. I silently, without missing much of the lesson, moved the back of the room and opened it. Of course TFA is watching all of this. I walk back to the rest of the students. Dee begins clucking like a chicken. And pecking the ground. And getting louder. And clucking like a chicken, louder. Is she learning? Of course not. Does she seem invested in my class? Of course not. Am I holding her accountable? Not really, I'm trying to teach the other 22 children and ignore the livestock in the back of my classroom. Do all of these things matter to TFA? Of course.

Way to go, Dee. Your performance has ensured that your audience will return.
It's not always that bad, but my, that child is as exhausting as the day is long. And it is loooong.

But I think I've gotten through to her this year. We've had conversations after she was kicked out of music class, that she is hurting that teacher's feelings and I think she's beginning to connect her actions and how other people feel.

Anyways, I'll leave you with the note she left me. I'm framing it, for sure. The best part is, she had pretty sketchy behavior all day, none of which she apologized for, so I think this letter is legit and not just a way to brown nose. Either way, that Dee shaped spot in my heart, it gets bigger everyday.

"I am so lucky to have you as my teacher in 3rd grade. I think you are the nicest techer I have ever had. You are also the nicest techer in all of 3rd grade. I always have fun in our class because ther is so much exitment her I am so happy to have you as a third grade techer thank you.


Sincerely, Dee

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