6/19/2004
End of the First Year
Here it is: the end of my first year as a substitute. And the end of my first year of "retirement." It went very quickly. I call it semi-retirement because I'm still substituting part time. People ask me if I regret having retired. I really have mixed feelings about it. It's hard to put into words. I miss "belonging" to a staff of professionals. That need is partly met by subbing at my former school. But not completely. And no matter how respectful and caring the students are, they are not my own.
I was looking through some old school pictures. I came across a picture of a former student that I taught in grade three. It was very sad to see the picture of Chantal. She came to a very violent end. As I looked at the dark-haired little girl with glasses, I wondered how it had happened. Chantal was not a pretty child. She was awkward and easily angered. She didn't make friends easily and she was often at odds with the few friends she had. She was not an easy child to love.
The day she had her class picture taken, she was wearing a white dress with puffy sleeves and lace trim. It was reminiscent of a bridal dress. What was she feeling that day? Did she feel pretty, all dressed up?
But she was not to be a bride. She became a prostitute and was murdered. Her body was found in a field and her murder has never been solved. How did this little girl get to that place? Many prostitutes come from backgrounds of physical and sexual abuse. Was she abused? Had I missed such a terrible aspect of her life? I remember her family was large and poor. I remember the principal saying something to the effect that, although the family was poor, and the children often came to school in old, worn clothes, the parents appeared to provide a loving home for the children.
All I remember was a vague feeling that he was wrong. Were we all wrong? Had we missed abuse in the family? Was her anger a result of abuse? Even then, quite early in my teaching career, I knew that anger such as Chantal's was often a symptom of something darker. Would her life have been different if I had acted on my unease? Would she have become a prostitute if I had contacted the Child Protection Agency? I can't help feeling: what if....? Poor Chantal...I'm sorry.
This is such a dark entry. I didn't realize until I sat down to write this entry that seeing her picture was having such an effect on me. Maybe my next post will be sunnier. Summer holidays in one more week.
Here it is: the end of my first year as a substitute. And the end of my first year of "retirement." It went very quickly. I call it semi-retirement because I'm still substituting part time. People ask me if I regret having retired. I really have mixed feelings about it. It's hard to put into words. I miss "belonging" to a staff of professionals. That need is partly met by subbing at my former school. But not completely. And no matter how respectful and caring the students are, they are not my own.
I was looking through some old school pictures. I came across a picture of a former student that I taught in grade three. It was very sad to see the picture of Chantal. She came to a very violent end. As I looked at the dark-haired little girl with glasses, I wondered how it had happened. Chantal was not a pretty child. She was awkward and easily angered. She didn't make friends easily and she was often at odds with the few friends she had. She was not an easy child to love.
The day she had her class picture taken, she was wearing a white dress with puffy sleeves and lace trim. It was reminiscent of a bridal dress. What was she feeling that day? Did she feel pretty, all dressed up?
But she was not to be a bride. She became a prostitute and was murdered. Her body was found in a field and her murder has never been solved. How did this little girl get to that place? Many prostitutes come from backgrounds of physical and sexual abuse. Was she abused? Had I missed such a terrible aspect of her life? I remember her family was large and poor. I remember the principal saying something to the effect that, although the family was poor, and the children often came to school in old, worn clothes, the parents appeared to provide a loving home for the children.
All I remember was a vague feeling that he was wrong. Were we all wrong? Had we missed abuse in the family? Was her anger a result of abuse? Even then, quite early in my teaching career, I knew that anger such as Chantal's was often a symptom of something darker. Would her life have been different if I had acted on my unease? Would she have become a prostitute if I had contacted the Child Protection Agency? I can't help feeling: what if....? Poor Chantal...I'm sorry.
This is such a dark entry. I didn't realize until I sat down to write this entry that seeing her picture was having such an effect on me. Maybe my next post will be sunnier. Summer holidays in one more week.
5/08/2004
Thinking About Former Students
Susan, a student I taught in Grades 6, 7, and 8, asked me to sub for her. I found her lesson plan for the day on her desk. She wrote that it felt "weird" to be having me sub for her. I was happy about it. It gave me a great deal of satisfaction to be working in the class of a former student. It just seemed right to end a teaching career this way.
The students were well behaved and I had a very good day. How wonderful to see that the seeds I sowed a few years ago have blossomed in Susan. I would like to think that I provided her with a good example to follow. A teacher in a big city seldom sees the positive effects she may have.
I remember an eighth-grade student I had a few years ago. Jimmy was bright but had decided not to do any work. He never finished any assignments, never handed in any projects. He usually sat in the class daydreaming or fooling around with a computer when we were in the lab. All my persuasiveness was to no avail. The principal tried to persuade him that it was in his best interest to learn. His parents tried. No one was able to get him to work. He was not angry or openly defiant, and he always promised to do better, but he just wouldn't work.
At the end of the school year, he went on to high school. The school board had a policy at the time that all students went on to the next grade unless the parents requested they not go on. But I felt like a failure. I imagined he would behave the same way in high school, flunk out and/or drop out. I imagined his life without an education, without a job, without hope.
Two years later Jimmy came to see me. He proudly announced that he had made the honours list at his high school. I was ecstatic. I asked him what had changed him. He said he just decided one day that the only way he was going to have a good life was to work hard at school.
It confirmed my belief that it is pointless to try to force students to learn until they are ready to learn. I believe learning is developmental. Yes, one needs to be prepared to assist a student who is ready when they are ready. But I think it's very destructive for teachers to accept guilt if they have truly tried their best. One must always maintain hope. I used this story many times to help despairing parents not to lose hope.
I have plans to write in this blog about other former students and what happened to them. I am compelled to look back on my teaching career, to remember, to evaluate. Even if nobody else ever reads this it feels necessary.
Susan, a student I taught in Grades 6, 7, and 8, asked me to sub for her. I found her lesson plan for the day on her desk. She wrote that it felt "weird" to be having me sub for her. I was happy about it. It gave me a great deal of satisfaction to be working in the class of a former student. It just seemed right to end a teaching career this way.
The students were well behaved and I had a very good day. How wonderful to see that the seeds I sowed a few years ago have blossomed in Susan. I would like to think that I provided her with a good example to follow. A teacher in a big city seldom sees the positive effects she may have.
I remember an eighth-grade student I had a few years ago. Jimmy was bright but had decided not to do any work. He never finished any assignments, never handed in any projects. He usually sat in the class daydreaming or fooling around with a computer when we were in the lab. All my persuasiveness was to no avail. The principal tried to persuade him that it was in his best interest to learn. His parents tried. No one was able to get him to work. He was not angry or openly defiant, and he always promised to do better, but he just wouldn't work.
At the end of the school year, he went on to high school. The school board had a policy at the time that all students went on to the next grade unless the parents requested they not go on. But I felt like a failure. I imagined he would behave the same way in high school, flunk out and/or drop out. I imagined his life without an education, without a job, without hope.
Two years later Jimmy came to see me. He proudly announced that he had made the honours list at his high school. I was ecstatic. I asked him what had changed him. He said he just decided one day that the only way he was going to have a good life was to work hard at school.
It confirmed my belief that it is pointless to try to force students to learn until they are ready to learn. I believe learning is developmental. Yes, one needs to be prepared to assist a student who is ready when they are ready. But I think it's very destructive for teachers to accept guilt if they have truly tried their best. One must always maintain hope. I used this story many times to help despairing parents not to lose hope.
I have plans to write in this blog about other former students and what happened to them. I am compelled to look back on my teaching career, to remember, to evaluate. Even if nobody else ever reads this it feels necessary.
5/02/2004
In My End Is My Beginning
It feels really strange to be blogging again after a hiatus of several weeks. Around a staff room table several teachers were discussing the games and tricks students play with substitutes. I told a story about an event that happened to me over 35 years ago. I am finishing my career as a substitute teacher, but I also began my teaching career as a substitute teacher. In those days the largest school board in our city maintained a group of substitute teachers called "supply teachers" under contract. We subbed in schools every day and on the days when there weren't enough jobs for all the supply teachers, we did at clerical work at the school board office. I was a supply teacher for the first term and in the second term I replaced a teacher who had resigned at the end of December.
The funniest trick students ever played on me while I was a supply teacher was at a school in the "North end" of the city, an area of immigrants, native people and the working poor. I was subbing in a combined grade 5/6. In the morning one student named Danny was absent. Things went well. The students were co-operative and the work left by the teacher was accomplished.
In the afternoon Danny showed up. He seemed taller than the other students, but he took his seat with a broad smile. I was naive enough to ignore the obvious attempts by the class to legitimize Danny. He told me he had been at the dentist in the morning. The girl beside him pointed out Danny's bad teeth as if to say he really needed to be at the dentist.
All afternoon Danny sat in the classroom. He did the work and participated. He wasn't disruptive at all. But I should have paid attention to the giggling and twittering that went on. It puzzled me but I didn't think it was significant.
Five minutes before the end of class the principal opened the door of the classroom and stuck his head in. He called me into the hall. He pointed out Danny and asked me to identify him. Of course I said he was the student who had been absent in the morning. The principal informed me that he was not Danny, but an older student from another school. He had been masquerading as Danny all afternoon. With chagrin I had to admit I had been fooled.
I was surprised that this group of students were able to maintain the deception all afternoon. No one tattled. That was real team work. And it was the best joke a class ever played on me.
Have fun out there.
It feels really strange to be blogging again after a hiatus of several weeks. Around a staff room table several teachers were discussing the games and tricks students play with substitutes. I told a story about an event that happened to me over 35 years ago. I am finishing my career as a substitute teacher, but I also began my teaching career as a substitute teacher. In those days the largest school board in our city maintained a group of substitute teachers called "supply teachers" under contract. We subbed in schools every day and on the days when there weren't enough jobs for all the supply teachers, we did at clerical work at the school board office. I was a supply teacher for the first term and in the second term I replaced a teacher who had resigned at the end of December.
The funniest trick students ever played on me while I was a supply teacher was at a school in the "North end" of the city, an area of immigrants, native people and the working poor. I was subbing in a combined grade 5/6. In the morning one student named Danny was absent. Things went well. The students were co-operative and the work left by the teacher was accomplished.
In the afternoon Danny showed up. He seemed taller than the other students, but he took his seat with a broad smile. I was naive enough to ignore the obvious attempts by the class to legitimize Danny. He told me he had been at the dentist in the morning. The girl beside him pointed out Danny's bad teeth as if to say he really needed to be at the dentist.
All afternoon Danny sat in the classroom. He did the work and participated. He wasn't disruptive at all. But I should have paid attention to the giggling and twittering that went on. It puzzled me but I didn't think it was significant.
Five minutes before the end of class the principal opened the door of the classroom and stuck his head in. He called me into the hall. He pointed out Danny and asked me to identify him. Of course I said he was the student who had been absent in the morning. The principal informed me that he was not Danny, but an older student from another school. He had been masquerading as Danny all afternoon. With chagrin I had to admit I had been fooled.
I was surprised that this group of students were able to maintain the deception all afternoon. No one tattled. That was real team work. And it was the best joke a class ever played on me.
Have fun out there.
3/24/2004
"I DON'T CARE"
I spent a rather interesting and easy two days at School N. It was spirit week and on the second day, Crazy Hair Day, many students had red, purple or silver streaks in their hair. One girl had braids woven with pipecleaners that made them stick out at the side of her head a la Pippi Longstocking. I teased my hair up and put half a dozen pony tails in my hair. They stuck straight out from my head. The students and other staff loved it. It was fun to see the different reactions. At first I tried to pretend that I was not wearing a crazy do and couldn't understand the fuss. When a student stared with an open mouth, I said: " What! Don't you know it's not nice to stare?"
Other students gave the high five or said, "Nice do." So I would ham it up, striking a pose and saying, "Why thank you. I worked very hard to make my hair nice today." One staff member laughed out loud and I asked if she would like the name of my hairdresser. She said that her hair often looked the same without the services of a hairdresser.
The teacher I was replacing had a student teacher, so she did most of the teaching. I acted as her assistant and got paid for doing it! I almost felt guilty for getting paid, while she got nothing. But her faculty advisor pointed out that she will be getting paid as soon as she lands a job and this was good experience for her.
I always like having a student teacher in the room, not only because it means less work for me, but because they know the class. They know which students to keep a close eye on; they know how to deal with behaviour issues; they know the class routines.
Anyway, this student teacher was very competent. My first impression was of a person who was confident, firm, thoughtful and able to think on her feet. I had a good time talking to individual students, helping a group rehearse a scene they had to perform, suggesting topics to students for persuasive essay assignments.
My day was broken up by a need for someone to drive across town to pick up a replacement spotlight bulb. School N was hosting a fund-raiser that night and needed to get the bulb ASAP so they could rehearse. It was fun to get out of the school on a sunny, warm, spring day. Not wanting people outside the school to think I was the advance guard of an alien invasion, I borrowed a hat from a student to cover up my crazy do.
But the best thing that happened in the two days was an incident involving the student teacher. I'll call her Sandra. Sandra was reminding a grade eight class that the outline of their persuasive essay was due on Friday. A few students in the class began to whine and say how many assignments and test they had that week. It's a common complaint from thirteen-year-olds. Sandra responded with a very hostile, "I don't care! Your teacher has said it it due on Friday and it is due on Friday." A shocked hush spread around the room. Even I thought it was an over-the-top response. I always found humour to be a good response to that sort of grumbling. And it's a good idea to find out if their feelings are justified by asking them about their other assignments and test.
One of the girls made an inaudible comment and Sandra took her out of the room to speak to her privately. I carried on helping the other students with their assignment, privately wondering how this student teacher would do with her own class in the near future. I thought she had a lot to learn.
Sandra returned to the room a few minutes later and asked for the class' attention. She got it immediately. Everyone stopped what they were doing, put down their pens and listened. She told them she wanted to apologize for her remark earlier. She said that she wanted them to know that she had spoken impulsively and she really did care about them. She also said that she wanted them to know that teachers can sometimes be wrong and that when she was wrong she would admit it and apologize.
I immediately knew that Sandra would be a good teacher. While some students seemed a little uncomfortable with the apology, most expressed an acceptance of both Sandra and her apology. It's not often that a teacher apologizes to students.
I enjoyed my days at School N and will be happy to return and see some of the great kids at that school. Although I got paid for some very easy work, on many days I more than earn my pay, so I guess it all evens out.
Have fun out there!
I spent a rather interesting and easy two days at School N. It was spirit week and on the second day, Crazy Hair Day, many students had red, purple or silver streaks in their hair. One girl had braids woven with pipecleaners that made them stick out at the side of her head a la Pippi Longstocking. I teased my hair up and put half a dozen pony tails in my hair. They stuck straight out from my head. The students and other staff loved it. It was fun to see the different reactions. At first I tried to pretend that I was not wearing a crazy do and couldn't understand the fuss. When a student stared with an open mouth, I said: " What! Don't you know it's not nice to stare?"
Other students gave the high five or said, "Nice do." So I would ham it up, striking a pose and saying, "Why thank you. I worked very hard to make my hair nice today." One staff member laughed out loud and I asked if she would like the name of my hairdresser. She said that her hair often looked the same without the services of a hairdresser.
The teacher I was replacing had a student teacher, so she did most of the teaching. I acted as her assistant and got paid for doing it! I almost felt guilty for getting paid, while she got nothing. But her faculty advisor pointed out that she will be getting paid as soon as she lands a job and this was good experience for her.
I always like having a student teacher in the room, not only because it means less work for me, but because they know the class. They know which students to keep a close eye on; they know how to deal with behaviour issues; they know the class routines.
Anyway, this student teacher was very competent. My first impression was of a person who was confident, firm, thoughtful and able to think on her feet. I had a good time talking to individual students, helping a group rehearse a scene they had to perform, suggesting topics to students for persuasive essay assignments.
My day was broken up by a need for someone to drive across town to pick up a replacement spotlight bulb. School N was hosting a fund-raiser that night and needed to get the bulb ASAP so they could rehearse. It was fun to get out of the school on a sunny, warm, spring day. Not wanting people outside the school to think I was the advance guard of an alien invasion, I borrowed a hat from a student to cover up my crazy do.
But the best thing that happened in the two days was an incident involving the student teacher. I'll call her Sandra. Sandra was reminding a grade eight class that the outline of their persuasive essay was due on Friday. A few students in the class began to whine and say how many assignments and test they had that week. It's a common complaint from thirteen-year-olds. Sandra responded with a very hostile, "I don't care! Your teacher has said it it due on Friday and it is due on Friday." A shocked hush spread around the room. Even I thought it was an over-the-top response. I always found humour to be a good response to that sort of grumbling. And it's a good idea to find out if their feelings are justified by asking them about their other assignments and test.
One of the girls made an inaudible comment and Sandra took her out of the room to speak to her privately. I carried on helping the other students with their assignment, privately wondering how this student teacher would do with her own class in the near future. I thought she had a lot to learn.
Sandra returned to the room a few minutes later and asked for the class' attention. She got it immediately. Everyone stopped what they were doing, put down their pens and listened. She told them she wanted to apologize for her remark earlier. She said that she wanted them to know that she had spoken impulsively and she really did care about them. She also said that she wanted them to know that teachers can sometimes be wrong and that when she was wrong she would admit it and apologize.
I immediately knew that Sandra would be a good teacher. While some students seemed a little uncomfortable with the apology, most expressed an acceptance of both Sandra and her apology. It's not often that a teacher apologizes to students.
I enjoyed my days at School N and will be happy to return and see some of the great kids at that school. Although I got paid for some very easy work, on many days I more than earn my pay, so I guess it all evens out.
Have fun out there!
3/20/2004
A SUBSTITUTE TEACHER’S WISH LIST
Around a staff room table recently one of my friends told me that some teachers and schools are having difficulty getting substitutes. As a retired teacher who substitutes part time, I have some experience in a number of schools. Here are a few things teachers and schools could do to improve the situation for substitutes.
The first thing teachers could do to make subs’ lives better is to include in the special instructions on Sub Finder the number of your parking stall. This makes my life so much easier. I realize that some parking lots have “scramble parking.” That could also be shared on Sub Finder. This sort of information helps get my day off to a good start.
Secondly, some schools give subs a special “sub folder” with school rules, timetables, health and allergy information, fire drill info. This is an excellent idea. If your school does not do this, I recommend you start.
Every school has different rules about hats, gum chewing, personal CD players, and going to the washroom, and it helps if I know what they are. Your little darlings sometimes play Bend The Truth. It’s one of the little games with which they like to entertain substitutes. I like to follow the classroom teacher’s routines as much as possible. It helps the students feel less stressed and that helps me feel less stressed!
The most helpful thing I ever found in a sub folder was the classroom key! I didn’t have to make two or three trips to the office to get the classroom unlocked.
A couple of things which are not often included in the “sub folder” are: a current class list or, even better, an up-to-date SEATING CHART. A seating chart is number one on my wish list. And I need them for every class that I am teaching that day, not just your home room class.
I find seating charts invaluable. I like to use kids’ names when I speak to them. That allows me to establish rapport. It would facilitate fire drills. Also it would help prevent two other common games I call Switching Seats and Guess My Name. You have no idea how much fun these two games are.
I have to say that in most schools in which I have substituted, I have been welcomed by the staff and been supported by the administration. Have fun out there! See you soon.
Around a staff room table recently one of my friends told me that some teachers and schools are having difficulty getting substitutes. As a retired teacher who substitutes part time, I have some experience in a number of schools. Here are a few things teachers and schools could do to improve the situation for substitutes.
The first thing teachers could do to make subs’ lives better is to include in the special instructions on Sub Finder the number of your parking stall. This makes my life so much easier. I realize that some parking lots have “scramble parking.” That could also be shared on Sub Finder. This sort of information helps get my day off to a good start.
Secondly, some schools give subs a special “sub folder” with school rules, timetables, health and allergy information, fire drill info. This is an excellent idea. If your school does not do this, I recommend you start.
Every school has different rules about hats, gum chewing, personal CD players, and going to the washroom, and it helps if I know what they are. Your little darlings sometimes play Bend The Truth. It’s one of the little games with which they like to entertain substitutes. I like to follow the classroom teacher’s routines as much as possible. It helps the students feel less stressed and that helps me feel less stressed!
The most helpful thing I ever found in a sub folder was the classroom key! I didn’t have to make two or three trips to the office to get the classroom unlocked.
A couple of things which are not often included in the “sub folder” are: a current class list or, even better, an up-to-date SEATING CHART. A seating chart is number one on my wish list. And I need them for every class that I am teaching that day, not just your home room class.
I find seating charts invaluable. I like to use kids’ names when I speak to them. That allows me to establish rapport. It would facilitate fire drills. Also it would help prevent two other common games I call Switching Seats and Guess My Name. You have no idea how much fun these two games are.
I have to say that in most schools in which I have substituted, I have been welcomed by the staff and been supported by the administration. Have fun out there! See you soon.
3/07/2004
One of my fellow teachers died this week. She was a year younger than I. It must be devastating for her partner, children and grandchildren. I am feeling somewhat depressed by this event. I must go to her funeral this week. Sorry, but I can't write any more today.
3/04/2004
A Day At School M.
A couple of days ago I subbed at a school which shall, as usual, remain nameless. I really earned my money that day. I had to use all the tricks in my substitute bag. But it wasn't boring!
It was a grade 5/6 class. Only 17 students! Wow! Small class. But I wasn't fooled. It was at a school known throughout the district as a "tough school."
I went fully prepared. Lots of sleep the night before, files full of games and puzzles. It's my survival kit. I decided on an attitude of firmness with a sense of humor. I reminded myself about a strategy I had learned from a colleague:when scolding a student, instead of raising one's voice, lower one's voice almost to a whisper and lean in. When I arrived, the daily plan looked well-organized and easy to follow.
Across the hall, another sub who had been in this classroom gave me a heads-up about two students, K. and J. K. was very hyper and could not stick to a task. J. was very bright and unco-operative. I determined to keep reminding myself all day that "I have more than forty years on these kids and I can do this!"
I held my breath as they all trouped in at the bell and after a bit of confusion and chaos, sat down. I started by greeting them all individually by asking their names and saying something positive to each one such as: Nice shirt, or to another: What's your favourite sports team? One kid had some new runners of which he was very proud. Some of them tried to play a trick on my by giving me a fictitious name, but they are such tattlers at this age that someone else always told me their true name. Because I joked with them and took their attempts to fool me good-naturedly, they relaxed.
I started with a puzzle on the overhead. While they worked on it, I did the business, money, attendance report, etc. They loved the puzzle, so I promised them that every time we finished one of the tasks set out by their teacher, we would play a game or do a puzzle.
Outdoor supervision at recess brought the first conflict. L., a precocious twelve-year-old wearing thick eyeliner, stood at the door defiantly refusing to go out in the cold. "I hate freaking teachers and I hate this freaking school," she declared with no provocation. I was unprepared for this overreaction. I knew she expected me to react negatively. She was trying to engage me in a power struggle. I had to keep her off balance. First of all I agreed with her. I said it was "cruel and unusual punishment" to expect students to go out for fifteen minutes and I intended to write a letter to the school board about it. She stared at me with her mouth open. Then she grinned as she got the joke. She was as smart as I had thought. Then I asked her how did she think things were going in her classroom today? Did she have any advice for me? She smiled at me and said she didn't have anything to suggest. Then she asked me how I thought things were going. Well, I said, everyone seems to like the games and puzzles. As we were conducting this exchange, I opened the door and put my arm around her shoulder, gently moving her outside. She didn't even realize what was happening. She ran out to her friends.
For the rest of the day she was my assistant. She handed out papers, told other kids to knock it off when they were giving me a hard time, and when I asked everyone to put up their chairs at the end of the day, she put up a few chairs others forgot and picked up papers off the floor.
I am still amazed at how well it worked. I sympathized with her, joked with her and treated her like a human being whose opinion I valued. She was an invaluable aide, class mother non-pareil.
TO BE CONTINUED...
A couple of days ago I subbed at a school which shall, as usual, remain nameless. I really earned my money that day. I had to use all the tricks in my substitute bag. But it wasn't boring!
It was a grade 5/6 class. Only 17 students! Wow! Small class. But I wasn't fooled. It was at a school known throughout the district as a "tough school."
I went fully prepared. Lots of sleep the night before, files full of games and puzzles. It's my survival kit. I decided on an attitude of firmness with a sense of humor. I reminded myself about a strategy I had learned from a colleague:when scolding a student, instead of raising one's voice, lower one's voice almost to a whisper and lean in. When I arrived, the daily plan looked well-organized and easy to follow.
Across the hall, another sub who had been in this classroom gave me a heads-up about two students, K. and J. K. was very hyper and could not stick to a task. J. was very bright and unco-operative. I determined to keep reminding myself all day that "I have more than forty years on these kids and I can do this!"
I held my breath as they all trouped in at the bell and after a bit of confusion and chaos, sat down. I started by greeting them all individually by asking their names and saying something positive to each one such as: Nice shirt, or to another: What's your favourite sports team? One kid had some new runners of which he was very proud. Some of them tried to play a trick on my by giving me a fictitious name, but they are such tattlers at this age that someone else always told me their true name. Because I joked with them and took their attempts to fool me good-naturedly, they relaxed.
I started with a puzzle on the overhead. While they worked on it, I did the business, money, attendance report, etc. They loved the puzzle, so I promised them that every time we finished one of the tasks set out by their teacher, we would play a game or do a puzzle.
Outdoor supervision at recess brought the first conflict. L., a precocious twelve-year-old wearing thick eyeliner, stood at the door defiantly refusing to go out in the cold. "I hate freaking teachers and I hate this freaking school," she declared with no provocation. I was unprepared for this overreaction. I knew she expected me to react negatively. She was trying to engage me in a power struggle. I had to keep her off balance. First of all I agreed with her. I said it was "cruel and unusual punishment" to expect students to go out for fifteen minutes and I intended to write a letter to the school board about it. She stared at me with her mouth open. Then she grinned as she got the joke. She was as smart as I had thought. Then I asked her how did she think things were going in her classroom today? Did she have any advice for me? She smiled at me and said she didn't have anything to suggest. Then she asked me how I thought things were going. Well, I said, everyone seems to like the games and puzzles. As we were conducting this exchange, I opened the door and put my arm around her shoulder, gently moving her outside. She didn't even realize what was happening. She ran out to her friends.
For the rest of the day she was my assistant. She handed out papers, told other kids to knock it off when they were giving me a hard time, and when I asked everyone to put up their chairs at the end of the day, she put up a few chairs others forgot and picked up papers off the floor.
I am still amazed at how well it worked. I sympathized with her, joked with her and treated her like a human being whose opinion I valued. She was an invaluable aide, class mother non-pareil.
TO BE CONTINUED...
