I've been subbing for my old school district this past week as a way to earn some cash and get some classroom experience. So far I've taught senior English, German, Computer Skills, Business Accounting, and 6th grade. Looking at that list I would have never thought 6th grade would be the hardest.
I had the same 6th grade class for two days, and on the second day I thought I was going to cry. I seriously reconsidered whether I'm actually cut out for this.
In the morning, I had a student turn in a writing prompt after about 2 minutes of writing (they were supposed to write for 50). When I asked him to continue writing for at least 15 more minutes, he threw a fit.
"I'm not doing it!"
"Well, I need you to write for a little while longer. You don't have to go the whole 50 min, but just try to write a little more. You've only got three sentences here!"
"NO! I don't care! I'm not doing it!"
He stomped back to his desk and shoved his books and pencils to the floor. I decided to just let him cool off and maybe I'd ask him again in a few minutes. While waiting, I opened up his notebook to read the sentences he'd written. The prompt they were to write about was "My blue jacket would never be the same..." He had written this:
"My blue jacket would never be the same. This is because my mom grabbed my arms and left bruises all over them. Then she hit me and got blood on the jacket. That's why it would never be the same. So there! THE END."
I almost cried.
After lunch, a girl named Lesli came running in the class, tears streaming down her face. She sat in her chair, said "I just want to go back to Mexico!" and flopped her soggy face on her desk. She told me that the other kids were making fun of her because she was 'the new kid' and because she had a heavier accent than most of the other Hispanic students. She'd just gotten here three days ago.
I tried to comfort her by telling her about when I moved to a new school, how it takes some time, but she'd make friends and everything would all work out. I promised her she'd be ok and gave her a bug hug (the thought crossed my mind about how we're 'not supposed to hug students', but at that moment I honestly didn't care).
For the rest of the day, I would catch her looking over at me, grinning, and giving a little wave. I would wave back or wink at her. I think I was her first friend there.
I almost cried.
The band director from the high school came to our class to "recruit" new band members into the junior high beginning band program. One girl in particular seemed very interested. I told them I'd been in band and it was the best time of my life. She brought me the brochure the director had given out and asked me what instrument I played, if I liked it, etc. All the while, she was getting more and more excited. When I said "So, are you gonna be in it?" she said timidly, "Well.... um.... how much does it cost?" I wanted to tell her right there "I'll pay for it for you!" No 12 year old kid should have to worry about whether her parents will be able to afford for her to do something she really wants to do.
I almost cried.
Later in the afternoon, I stepped out of the class to monitor one of the girls on the teacher's "watch-out-for-these-kids" list as she went to get a book from her locker. I propped the classroom door open and stood not 3 feet away from the door.
When I got back to my desk, another student came up and whispered to me - "I wanna act like I'm asking to go to the restroom, but I thought you should know that while you were gone, Chad hit Trevor on the head."
I went over to Trevor's desk and he was sitting in a daze. I whispered his name 4 times and he didn't even flinch. Of course I was thinking "Oh god, he must have gotten hit really hard! He won't even look at me!" I grabbed his hand and said "Trevor, why don't you come in the hall with me." He followed me, walking like a mummy, into the hallway. The minute we got outside the room, he let loose. I put my arm around his shoulders as tears practically exploded from his face. After he cried for a few minutes, I was able to get him to tell me what happened.
I went across the hall and got one of the other teachers, and between the two of us, we took care of getting Trevor to the nurse and Chad to the principal's office. As Trevor was walking away to the nurse, he turned back to me and gave as good a smile as a crying boy can give.
I almost cried.
Even though we've talked til we're blue in the face about the deeper reasons for students' actions in class, how to handle troublemakers, how to quiet down talkative students, when to answer students' questions about your personal life and when not to, etc, etc... When I got into a situation and had to think on my feet, none of those conversations came to me. All I had to go by was my gut. And I'm not sure that was such a bad thing. I think, after spending a day and a half with these 6th graders, that instinct and compassion will ultimately be our best guides, especially during our first few years of teaching.
Recent Comments