Real.
Real.
Sep 21
Time to get real people. Kindergarten is hard. If I didn’t think I would get laughed off the island, I would like propose that kindergarten teachers should get an extra stipend for hazard pay. I know, I know, we choose to teach kindergarten. And while I do love it more than anything (really, I do, I do, I do!), seriously, it is the hardest job in the world. Hard. Difficult. Sometimes… impossible.
The first few days can be trying, but we’re on day… fourteen now. Is it getting better? You betcha. Is it easy? Not a chance. This year, for some reason, there was a huge influx of boys. Boys. Boys. Boys. Boys. Boys. That’s what I feel like I’m dealing with all day long. I love them, heck I AM one, but when they are five, they can be… well a handful. As the days have gone by, one by one, I feel like they are falling into line. I’m getting them under control… slowly… one by one… kind of.
There are a few stragglers though. They just seem to want push, push, PUSH me every chance they can get. My Rest Stop has never gotten so much play. It is being kept permanently warm by mostly just a few sprouts. I’m not sure how effective it is, but I refuse, refuse, REFUSE to humiliate a child by yelling, shouting, shaming, pointing, or putting a dunce cap on him. You think I’m kidding, but there are teachers I know that would resort to such shenanigans. I won’t. Won’t. WILL NOT do it.
So. This happened. I am not embellishing or kidding. This really happened.
During a writing activity (it was short, mostly they were just coloring while I scribed a sentence), a few boys were getting up, Up, UP, every five seconds to get a drink, goto the bathroom, or do just about anything, but work. My expectations for seat work are small after fourteen days… maybe five minutes. Too much. I was getting frustrated. I rang the bell. Silence. Hands on heads.
“Boys and girls, we have only two more minutes to finish our pictures,” I began.
“For the next two minutes, while we finish working, NOBODY will get our of their seats…”
Seats, the S sound was still lingering in the air, when Bobby stood up, walked over and took a drink of water.
Really? Are you kidding me? I seriously went and checked his folder to see if he had a hearing problem I wasn’t aware of. He doesn’t.
I breathe. Not normal breathing… deep yoga breaths. Close my eyes and take oxygen in through my NOSE and out through my MOUTH breaths. I smile. I focus on the little gems who listen and give me hugs. I just keep swimming, just keep swimming, just keep swimming… Tomorrow will be better. I know it. Right?
It has to get better.
I have a student, that, when asked to put his papers in his mailbox to take home, EVERY time, puts his papers in my printer…
And another who still cannot find his desk. The ONLY EMPTY desk in the room, because everyone else IS SITTING IN THEIRS!
Oh, my dear friend, I am so with you on this…thank you for being real…it’s really wonderful to know we are all in this together!
Oh my gosh, I think our classes are clones this year. Almost the exact thing happened to me. Except I have girls girls girls girls. Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out.
Whew! Sounds a lot like my class!
I am so with you. My second grade boys are the very same way. Peace with you. Thanks for being real
Loved the column.
Want to wish you lots of luck with Bobby. There must be some sort of positive spin to put on this… we do want independent thinkers (at least some of the time).
Oh the joys of working with sproutlettes! that’s just it, I don’t think that people realize just how hard it can be to educate 5 and six year olds. (which is honestly why I switched to 3′s. they are actually easier.)Granted, boys in particular are still at the stage that they need to move to learn,and we are mandated to SIT them for long periods. When you get 20 or 30 boys who need to be doing one thing but are told to do the opposite you get chaos.BTW I’ve discovered the longer you make them sit, the worse it makes them want to move.I can sympathise with you for the boy influx. Its CRAZY.To people who don’t teach I explain it this way. Take the wildest kid you know, and imagine that you have 40 of them in one room. You would almost have the reality of dealing with kinders.
I have a class of 21 boys and 7 girls. Without fail every morning within 30 secs of sitting on the mat I have one boy who will go get a drink, go to the toilet or something similar and this is the end of term 3 here. It always starts an avalanche of children wanting to do the same. I hear you, I empathise! Trust me, it will get better but it takes a lot of time.
Must be something genetic. I have 18 three year olds. 14 boys. Just imagine me, middle age teacher mom in the bathroom with 14 boys, many of whom are new to undies. It is a riot…I expect to be on Candid Camera some days. Then there was my classic comment, “if it comes out of your nose, that means you need a tissue and to go wash your hands…” Good thing my assistant ran an early childhood gymnastics center for years. We’re moving A-L-O-T!
@ Lisa: I work in a farming community so one of my classic comments is – The grass is not a toilet.
Something that helped me last year was a comment from a blog by a Mom of 4 boys: boys need boundaries. Instead of a ‘No’ provide them with a boundary like, “We can’t ______ but we can _______.”
In a sick, twisted way, I’m glad to hear that a boy finds teaching boys hard. I thought I was just clueless because I am a girl *wink*
Hang in there. You will look back on this in May and be amazed at how far everyone has come!
One year we had a dad, who was an air traffic controller, go along on a field trip. At the end of the trip he told me is job was EASY compared to mine. (Too bad our salaries don’t reflect that)
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