Days like this make me want to cry.
"Get your wrinkly finger out of my face! Ugh, you smell!"
A fifth grader who was making it impossible for me to teach and for anyone to learn said this to me today as I tried to have a private conversation about his behavior.
What I said: "Excuse me?"
What I thought: "I DON'T SMELL YOU SMELL I TAKE SHOWERS MY FINGER IS WRINKLE-LESS AND BEAUTIFUL I'M ONLY TWENTY THREE STOP BEING SUCH A BUTT."
Eventually, the PE teacher and I gathered the two fifth grade classes we had together because so many of them were being disrespectful. They sat in the gym and talked and talked back and argued with everyone.
I told them how rude they were being.
I told them they all had a brain in their heads and a heart in their chest.
I told them that they all had potential to be so much more.
I told them I wanted them to graduate high school.
I told them I want them to be successful. I want them to have jobs and money to support themselves.
I told them that I want them to be happy.
Some listened. Some mocked me. But I said all of that. And if it changed only changed one heart, then I will have been successful. The future, to my students, is so far away, and I don't blame them for not wanting to hear me. As a teacher and someone who cares about them, I want to show them everything they could be, the things they could achieve. But I can only do so much, and it all starts with their decisions.
Days like this make me laugh.
A couple hours after the fifth grade fiasco, it was time for kindergarten. (Sometimes I wonder how kindergartners, full of wonder, kindness, and excitement, turn into bitter, rude fifth graders. Anyway, that's another story.)
As my first kindergarten group walked into my classroom, I received seven hugs and tied three shoes. I also had a little girl tell me she had something for me. As I gasped and looked excited, she pulled out of her pocket a fully melted Hershey's kiss. She looked at it and wrinkled her nose as I thanked her. She clearly decided it wasn't up to her standards, and she reached into her pocket and handed me two pennies. She seemed much happier about this gift and smiled as she placed the pennies in my hand.
My second kindergarten class arrived a half hour later. There is a boy in this class who has always struggled to focus and follow directions in class. He recently has gotten much better and is practically my teacher's assistant. As soon as someone gets off task, he will put the quiet sign up in the air (the forefinger and the middle finger raised in the air, like a squished peace sign). First he'll raise one quiet sign up high, then use the other arm to make two, and then finally get on his knees so everyone can see. It cracks me up to see this child work so hard because he wants everyone to do a good job.
I don't know what got into this boy today. He raised his hand during class at one point and when I called on him, he told me he had something to tell me, but it was a secret. I told him that he could come tell me the secret. He gets up and cups his hand around my ear and then whispers...
"For Christmas, I'm going to buy you a car."
I thanked him while chuckling internally and saw a shy smile on his face. He sat down and raised his hand again several minutes later. As soon as I called on him, he came to tell me another secret...
"On Valentine's Day, I'm going to get you a box of chocolates."
I sent him back to his seat again thinking that I've never had such sweet nothings whispered in my ear before. He tried to tell me another secret, but I told him we didn't have time for any more secrets today.
Days like this...
Days like this hurt, but they are also filled with silliness. More than ANYTHING, I love my students. Sometimes they break my heart, but sometimes they fill my heart with joy and I feel I'm going to burst.
I don't know where my life is going to take me, but I know that I want to be the teacher my students need and deserve. I have a lot of work to do, but I'm pretty sure it'll be worth it in the end.
-Ms. R
