When you look in their faces, the ones that shine with glimmering and
eager eyes, you could never guess how much willful independence (and the desire
to express it) there is in a child.
Always one to challenge myself to add new meaning to what it means to be alive today, I have decided to try my hand at Substitute Teaching. After all… what could possibly give us a better understanding of what it means to be human than to watch and learn from those who are entering this world and working to live within it.
I must admit, I was cocky at first. Not only did my friend with his new teaching degree suggest it would be an excellent experience for me, but I had worked as a parent-teacher in many of my children’s class rooms. I had done yard duty, snack sales, corrected papers, handed out assignments, chaperoned on camp trips, dealt with errant behavior, and raised two children of my own. Substitute Teaching would be… fun!
My first assignment was going to be a breeze. I accepted a half day as a kindergarten music teacher. Music is something I love to see at a school because it is a creative outlet all children should become familiar with, even if they have no dreams to pursue it.
I walked into the classroom greeted by 20 little chairs arranged in a perfect semi-circle. It was so neat and orderly I felt a little thrill for my day. As no children were yet present, I made myself familiar with the environment. Adorable little tambourines, notched wood cylinders to rub with a stick, and xylophones were neatly placed in the drawers. Awesome! I thought as I envisioned the little noises they would all make.
It wasn’t long after the first children arrived that daydream bubble burst.
The perfect semi-circle quickly eroded to a snaking line of chairs that were fast becoming weapons. Cries of personal ownership and affection for already occupied chairs dominated the sounds in the room. When I untangled two children from one chair, I turned around to find four more just like them. I knew the turf war could only last so long before a few would break into tears.
I looked to the door. Wasn’t anyone going to help me? Surely the noise had already escalated to the level it could be heard three blocks away… and these children had just come in! But, as I later learned, this was the Teacher’s break time. So long as I didn’t come out of the room screaming, they were fine with it.
Since chairs became my first obstacle, I decided the chairs needed to go. All of the kids could sit on the floor. “Okay everyone!” I called out. “We are going to put the chairs away!”
There is always a helper in every group. Today’s helper came from a boy I’ll call Nathan. As I extracted chairs from extremely possessive five and six year olds, Nathan took charge of stacking them up. I was grateful at first until I noticed he had already (with the aid of other helpers) stacked them too high and they were dangerously about to fall over. I ran to the other side of the room in an effort to keep children safe and almost knocked a few down. Quickly I began un-stacking the stacks and peeling off children who were still trying to sit on them.
I realized I needed to get their attention and some order. Feebly I looked to the door. It remained stoically shut.
Exercise, I thought! These children have too much pent up energy! I’ll let them do jumping jacks!
Little arms and legs were soon given the permission to flail freely and, to my utter dismay, I watched as they flailed into the heads, arms and legs belonging to bodies that were not their own. Before I could stop it, mock fights broke out as little boys did jumping jacks into one another.
Have you ever poured lighter fluid on an already flaming fire? Yeah. It was like that.
To be honest, I have no idea how I did it. I think I was momentarily possessed by an Angel because the next thing I remember was seeing them all to sit down to look up at me. It was bliss… but as I looked around, I knew it would not last. The fires were still burning.
Music! I am here for music! A faint recollection of my earlier daydream came to mind. “Okay,” I said quickly rearranging my plan. “Who wants to be in a band and perform for the class?” The whole class raised their hands and many stood to walk up to the front. “No, sit,” I said thinking of my mother’s dogs. Remain calm and assertive.
“Only three of you at a time. I’ll chose only the ones who are being quiet and patient.”
As I looked around the room at the writhing bodies and heard the nonsensical stream of pleas, I knew they while they had heard of these words “quiet and patient”, they didn’t really understand them.
I chose three students. Then three more. Then three more. “Okay. Who has not had a turn? Raise you hand.” The whole class again raised their hands and a few stood to walk up to the front.
“Nathan, you’ve already had your turn.”
“No I haven’t,” he said with pleading, brown, sorrowful eyes. On some level I could tell he believed what he was saying.
Again I looked around, completely drained. 20 children with raised hands were looking up at me and… to be perfectly honest I could not be sure who had --- and had not already come up. What tiny amount of strength I had left was quickly evaporating. In the time I took to consider what I was going to do, half of the class was already up and pulling instruments from the drawers and away from each other.
I could feel it. I was giving up. They could have the room. I’ll take a corner.
And then it happened.
I looked up and felt like I was experiencing a mirage in the dessert. The door opened. A… a… an adult?
The Teacher called to her class over the noise and little bodies ran to the door. Some little bodies. Not all. Some were still pulling at instruments. I looked at her slightly chagrinned. “I’ve never taught…” the word hung in my throat “kindergarten before.”
“It takes some getting used to,” she said mechanically as she scurried her children through the door. I looked up at the clock. A mere 30 minutes of my life had gone by and I was already whipped. I had three more hours and five more classes to go.
It was with a loss of pride when I later realized that what I had taken as a look of empathetic sadness on the faces of the teachers picking up their students after Music class was really the look of bitter disappointment at getting their classes back in such scandalous dysfunction.
It was later still when I managed to salvage some pride at having learned and applied a few things for my final class for the day. It was to NOT allow the fire to start in the first place and I admit I was just a little pleased with myself when the last teacher walked in to a perfectly quiet room with a look of shock on her face (she had no doubt heard about the dismaying results from the other teachers). Instead of walking into a room filled with screaming banshees, her children were paying close attention as I read them a story about a frog who wanted to sing.
As my day came to an end I was hoarse and aching. I went home to go to sleep and woke up later with a cold.
It was then that I decided... kindergarten is too big of a dragon for me to slay. I, who have not been sick for several years, am finally recovering from that day over a week later. But... Tomorrow I have my first Middle School. It should be fine…. right?
Victoria Crystal… living SimpleSexy
www.victoriacrystal.com down
Always one to challenge myself to add new meaning to what it means to be alive today, I have decided to try my hand at Substitute Teaching. After all… what could possibly give us a better understanding of what it means to be human than to watch and learn from those who are entering this world and working to live within it.
I must admit, I was cocky at first. Not only did my friend with his new teaching degree suggest it would be an excellent experience for me, but I had worked as a parent-teacher in many of my children’s class rooms. I had done yard duty, snack sales, corrected papers, handed out assignments, chaperoned on camp trips, dealt with errant behavior, and raised two children of my own. Substitute Teaching would be… fun!
My first assignment was going to be a breeze. I accepted a half day as a kindergarten music teacher. Music is something I love to see at a school because it is a creative outlet all children should become familiar with, even if they have no dreams to pursue it.
I walked into the classroom greeted by 20 little chairs arranged in a perfect semi-circle. It was so neat and orderly I felt a little thrill for my day. As no children were yet present, I made myself familiar with the environment. Adorable little tambourines, notched wood cylinders to rub with a stick, and xylophones were neatly placed in the drawers. Awesome! I thought as I envisioned the little noises they would all make.
It wasn’t long after the first children arrived that daydream bubble burst.
The perfect semi-circle quickly eroded to a snaking line of chairs that were fast becoming weapons. Cries of personal ownership and affection for already occupied chairs dominated the sounds in the room. When I untangled two children from one chair, I turned around to find four more just like them. I knew the turf war could only last so long before a few would break into tears.
I looked to the door. Wasn’t anyone going to help me? Surely the noise had already escalated to the level it could be heard three blocks away… and these children had just come in! But, as I later learned, this was the Teacher’s break time. So long as I didn’t come out of the room screaming, they were fine with it.
Since chairs became my first obstacle, I decided the chairs needed to go. All of the kids could sit on the floor. “Okay everyone!” I called out. “We are going to put the chairs away!”
There is always a helper in every group. Today’s helper came from a boy I’ll call Nathan. As I extracted chairs from extremely possessive five and six year olds, Nathan took charge of stacking them up. I was grateful at first until I noticed he had already (with the aid of other helpers) stacked them too high and they were dangerously about to fall over. I ran to the other side of the room in an effort to keep children safe and almost knocked a few down. Quickly I began un-stacking the stacks and peeling off children who were still trying to sit on them.
I realized I needed to get their attention and some order. Feebly I looked to the door. It remained stoically shut.
Exercise, I thought! These children have too much pent up energy! I’ll let them do jumping jacks!
Little arms and legs were soon given the permission to flail freely and, to my utter dismay, I watched as they flailed into the heads, arms and legs belonging to bodies that were not their own. Before I could stop it, mock fights broke out as little boys did jumping jacks into one another.
Have you ever poured lighter fluid on an already flaming fire? Yeah. It was like that.
To be honest, I have no idea how I did it. I think I was momentarily possessed by an Angel because the next thing I remember was seeing them all to sit down to look up at me. It was bliss… but as I looked around, I knew it would not last. The fires were still burning.
Music! I am here for music! A faint recollection of my earlier daydream came to mind. “Okay,” I said quickly rearranging my plan. “Who wants to be in a band and perform for the class?” The whole class raised their hands and many stood to walk up to the front. “No, sit,” I said thinking of my mother’s dogs. Remain calm and assertive.
“Only three of you at a time. I’ll chose only the ones who are being quiet and patient.”
As I looked around the room at the writhing bodies and heard the nonsensical stream of pleas, I knew they while they had heard of these words “quiet and patient”, they didn’t really understand them.
I chose three students. Then three more. Then three more. “Okay. Who has not had a turn? Raise you hand.” The whole class again raised their hands and a few stood to walk up to the front.
“Nathan, you’ve already had your turn.”
“No I haven’t,” he said with pleading, brown, sorrowful eyes. On some level I could tell he believed what he was saying.
Again I looked around, completely drained. 20 children with raised hands were looking up at me and… to be perfectly honest I could not be sure who had --- and had not already come up. What tiny amount of strength I had left was quickly evaporating. In the time I took to consider what I was going to do, half of the class was already up and pulling instruments from the drawers and away from each other.
I could feel it. I was giving up. They could have the room. I’ll take a corner.
And then it happened.
I looked up and felt like I was experiencing a mirage in the dessert. The door opened. A… a… an adult?
The Teacher called to her class over the noise and little bodies ran to the door. Some little bodies. Not all. Some were still pulling at instruments. I looked at her slightly chagrinned. “I’ve never taught…” the word hung in my throat “kindergarten before.”
“It takes some getting used to,” she said mechanically as she scurried her children through the door. I looked up at the clock. A mere 30 minutes of my life had gone by and I was already whipped. I had three more hours and five more classes to go.
It was with a loss of pride when I later realized that what I had taken as a look of empathetic sadness on the faces of the teachers picking up their students after Music class was really the look of bitter disappointment at getting their classes back in such scandalous dysfunction.
It was later still when I managed to salvage some pride at having learned and applied a few things for my final class for the day. It was to NOT allow the fire to start in the first place and I admit I was just a little pleased with myself when the last teacher walked in to a perfectly quiet room with a look of shock on her face (she had no doubt heard about the dismaying results from the other teachers). Instead of walking into a room filled with screaming banshees, her children were paying close attention as I read them a story about a frog who wanted to sing.
As my day came to an end I was hoarse and aching. I went home to go to sleep and woke up later with a cold.
It was then that I decided... kindergarten is too big of a dragon for me to slay. I, who have not been sick for several years, am finally recovering from that day over a week later. But... Tomorrow I have my first Middle School. It should be fine…. right?
Victoria Crystal… living SimpleSexy
www.victoriacrystal.com down
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