2004-01-23
Student Teacher
My students hate when I'm absent. They cry and plead to return home when I'm not at school.
As much as I'd like to think it's all about me, it's not. Kids thrive on predictability and routine. Not in a rigid way, but in a way that makes them feel safe. Kids that come from secure, loving homes are usually the ones that are most willing to take risks.
I set up my classroom so it can run itself if I'm, say, off chasing Clay Aiken all over the friggin' country. I don't want my students to be dependent on me, or any other adult in the room.
At the beginning of the year, they really need me. They look to me for guidance and support, and I encourage them to make their own decisions and choices within a clearly established set of rules and boundaries. I set my expectations high and give them plenty of responsibility. I don't treat them like babies.
By November, the number of times I hear my name called each day reduces from 1000 to around 100. 97 of those are usually uttered in rapid succession by a child attempting to tattle on the kid who's eating playdough or sand.
Today, one of my students found a dead ladybug under a shelf and tried to eat it. I saw him pulling something off his tongue with his index finger and thumb.
"What's in your mouth?""A ladybug."
I didn't ask why he put the ladybug in his mouth. When you're four, you just have to know what ladybugs taste like.
Now that the kids are socially independent, I can start to up the academic ante. Since September, I've been modeling readiness skills like letter and number recognition, counting, phonemic awareness, one-to-one correspondence, and left to right directionality. I've taught whole class and small group lessons to expose them to "the basics." Now I need to find out how much they've absorbed and make decisions about where to go instructionally, and whether individual kids need challenge or review.
One way I can assess their progress is by letting them take over as the "teacher" during our calendar routine. Yesterday, I chose a child to be the first "student teacher" of the year.
Oh my god. You would not have believed this kid in action. She didn't miss a beat. She was academically secure, confident on her feet and kept the rest of the class completely enthralled by her presentation from beginning to end. My teacher aide said she'd never been so impressed by a four year old in her life.
We asked her what she wanted to be when she grew up, thinking in our egotistical minds that she would say, "Why, a teacher, of course. Is there any profession more noble or rewarding?" The actual conversation went like this.
"You did a wonderful job leading the calendar today. What would you like to be when you grow up?""A dentist."
A couple of weeks ago, my classroom had no heat. We had to send the children home because it wasn't safe, healthy or productive to be in a room whose temperature was below 60 degrees. My student teacher broke down in tears when we told her she couldn't come to school that day and had to go back home.
Yesterday, my student teacher came up to me at dismissal and tugged on my shirt. I looked down. Her large brown eyes met my gaze with eager anticipation.
"So," she said, "when are you going to be absent again?"
joeparadox at 4:04 p.m.