I've been having a lot of fun and a lot of success at school recently. I figure I ought to get that out tonight, before tomorrow hits and I'm in the middle of a Terribly Traumatic Thursday again...
There's really nothing new in particular, but in the last few months I've gained a new level of confidence in our little classroom. A lot of it has to do with the accumulation of practically a year's worth of experience and the rest has to do with Erik joining our school in September, providing something to which I could compare my own progress. All apologies to him (let's hope he doesn't read my blog or I'm going to feel bad), but he does a really good job reminding me of how far I've come. Little kids are tough. But they are so awesome, at the same time! I simply love (most) of these kids more than I expected. I know it sounds cliched, but weekly (if not daily) I find myself doubled over in laughter or cross-eyed at some two foot tall student who has shown me how to look at the world from a different angle. Or just stuffed an unprecedented amount of rice into a cheek before swallowing.
There are two really important things I've learned at our school in the last year that I plan to hold on to and continue to remind myself as a teacher and (eek! someday!) as a parent. The first is that if the kids aren't paying attention (and in our school, that means that they are physically running away, hiding under tables or climbing into toy buckets... not just dazing out the window. heck, dazing out the window would be a huge improvement!), then
I, as the teacher/leader, am failing. As obvious as it should be- this simple point hadn't occured to me and while racing around to collect little people who wouldn't stay put I would just get so... frustrated at them!! Yuzo and Makoto, our school principals, enlightened me to the fact that we as teachers/adults/leaders are supposed to be their focal point and if we aren't engaging them successfully, then.... they'll wander off. Duh! But guess what,.. it really is the key.
The second critical lesson I learned from after getting frustrated (again!) by trying to keep the older, after school crew in line. I think that precise day I had almost lost it after a child (who shall go un-named to protect his... ahem... innocence) wouldn't stop rocking back and forth in his chair. All of them were in chairs in a semi-circle and I was worried he was going to pinch his neighbor's fingers between the two chairs. As I reached to stop him for the fifth or so time,... I got my finger pinched. And it hurt like HELL. And I was so pissed. Afterwards, Yuzo pointed out that it would be ineffective to be mad at the chair-rocker because he wasn't doing it to be bad, or to hurt his neighbor or me, or to piss me off. He was doing it because it was fun. If I wanted him to stop, I needed to give him something equally fun or even better, more fun, to replace the chair-rocking. Again, whatever we'd been doing wasn't engaging him enough and he'd figured out something "better". I needed to be thinking at kid level, not adult level. That day I learned that the kids aren't out to be annoying or break rules... they are seeking out what seems fun or interesting and if I can't direct them in the right direction, they're going to find something else that I won't like as much.
In the same way, I get "mad" less quickly now because I spend a couple seconds trying to figure out why exactly the kids are ripping pumpkins off the doors, or trying to climb on top of the table. It isn't because they're waiting to see me get mad (though I swear sometimes, they are), its because its FUN, or INTERESTING, or just PINK!
The final lesson (I know I said two, but this one I actually learned back in Nagano), is that if I come to school tired and (here's the key point) show it... then all is lost. I don't know why and I don't know how, but kids of any level (I've proved from the preschool through junior high levels but I suspect it holds true in any classroom), can just sense that the teacher is tired, cranky, sick, hung-over, or just ran a half-marathon. They just know. It's uncanny, really. Anyway, if they aren't convinced I'm in top form and ready to kick the ball, crawl under the table, or sing at the top of my lungs then I might as well not even bother. Class becomes a zoo and there's no way to salvage it. These are the days when I sincerely wish I could pop in "Nemo" or something and lock myself in the bathroom.
Okay, not sure why I'm sharing other than to show that I have actually learned something (in addition to the ability to identify all the engines in Thomas the Tank Engine, to rehydrate dry, stiff play-dough, and to get a child with a boo-boo to stop wailing) from being here this long. This... long... yeah, its been three and a half years. Wow. Start counting the date folks, I'll be home in May!
