During the course of the year I've been lucky to meet lots of practicum students, all at various stages of their learning. Just a fortnight ago I met two lovely pre-service teachers from the Masters of Teaching UWS (REPRESENT YO!!) and I spent the majority of term 2 with three people from the Notre Dame course on their first ever prac experience. I, of course, can completely empathise with the situation they are in as I was a Prac student myself, as recently as 10 months ago. One of the stories they all want to hear is how the very first day of teaching actually went. Was it petrifying? Did you have work planned? Could they smell your fear?
Yes, yes and thankfully, no.
I think I had a somewhat more terrifying experience than most however, as many students finish up their last prac and then start casual teaching nearly straight away. After I finished my prac I had my DEC interview the very next day and so didn't have approval to teach yet and within the fortnight I was in India on some mad 'holiday' that lasted 3 months. By the time March rolled around and I'd finally shaken the debilitating food poisoning that had seen me hospitalised (don't eat street foot in India. Even POTATO will try to kill you.) I'd almost forgotten what I was supposed to do. I put my resume in at 3 schools on the
Monday and was booked in to work the Wednesday on a year 3 class.
Panicking like a mad man I woke before the sun had risen and feverishly reread and reanalysed the heavily detailed lesson plans I'd developed for the day, just in case the teacher hadn't left work. I packed my lunch baggy full of healthy, energy sustaining food and dressed in what I'd call casually professional clothing.
I arrived so early that the doors to my building weren't even open yet and frantically dashed between the room and the office with various rings of keys until I finally got in. I was relieved to spy a detailed three page note left on the teachers desk - as excited as I was to do my own lessons there would have been a comfort in simply following the classes regular routine and allowing myself a gradual reentry into the teaching world. But then I read the note. Without recalling the exact wording, the note basically told me what NOT to do.
"Don't use any textbooks. Don't do any HSIE work. Other than that, I don't mind what you do!"
But obviously much more verbose. Relieved I had over planned to the point I could have taught them for a week, I set about preparing my day.
I wrote my name on the board:
MISS CARLSON.
I rubbed it out. I rewrote:
Miss Carlson.
I rubbed it out. I rewrote it in purple (I want to be a fun teacher!)
I rubbed it out. I rewrote it larger.
I rubbed it out. I rewrote it smaller (too big).
I tried to just rub out the 's' which was wonky but smudged it. I rubbed it out. I rewrote it again.
I then wrote up my plan for the day on the board so that the kids know what's happening. Repeat above rubbing out and rewriting process.
I tried to turn on my IWB. I started to panic when I failed to find the 'on' button for the laptop. I'm 23 years old and I can't turn on a laptop. WHAT has happened to me. Just then a friend walked in to wish me well and I accosted her by the arm and screamed in her face to fortheloveofGod turn on my laptop. Turns out the on button was a nondescript silver thing that needed to SLIDE across and was actually very hard to find.
I ran back to the office to make photocopies and was horrified to find that the photocopier required a password. I texted my friend and got hers then desperately punched buttons until 30 A4 copies were spat out.
I raced back to the room and arranged and rearranged my piles of paper and story books into their correct chronological order for the day then panicked again as I realised I hadn't gotten the roll.
I yet again sprinted back to the office, madly hunted for the correct pigeon hole then pelted back to the classroom.
I bolted BACK to the office again for a nervous poo (no shame, baby) then the realisation that the bell was about to ring and I didn't know where to collect the children, I didn't know if I had a playground duty and I DIDN'T KNOW ANYTHING dawned on me.
I found the necessary information, the bell rang and I headed out into the playground. Several hundred blue clad children were before me like an ocean of confusion and noise. HOW was I going to find my class? I took to whispering the question at nice looking children and eventually found my 30. I led them inside while biting my inner lip at their loose definition of "two straight lines". Were the other teachers judging me?? Were they tutting under their breath at the newbie who couldn't even get them inside without them dissipating into 20 something un-straight lines??
Once inside I followed my plan: I introduced myself, I marked the roll, I explained what we'd be learning that day and I explained my behaviour expectations and consequences for good and bad behaviour. From there on in it was smooth sailing! I found that my teacher voice (you know the one) came naturally and almost I was almost subconsciously nipping bad behaviour in the bud.
"AHHH... The boys over there on that table. What a shame you're spoiling us. Last warning boys and then it's the sad face." *raised eyebrows/pursed lips*
"Can't ask you Billy, you're calling out."
"WHO IS STILL TALKING?! How rude. I'd hate to have to tell your teacher that you were doing the wrong thing."
And etc. HAHA!!
We did a brilliant lesson on The Rabbits - John Marsden and Shaun Tan. The kids chose to write an empathy piece from the perspective of either a rabbit or a possum. Maths was a blast with cooperative learning group based problem solving. And we had assembly.
I spent the entirety of lunch meticulously marking the writing task and applying a myriad of stickers and stamps to each page. I was amazed and proud of the effort they'd put in and the quality of their responses (save the one that said he wanted to be a rabbit so he could own everyone else in the world, illustrated with tanks and guns. Errrrmm...)
By the end of the day the kids were telling me what a great teacher I was and how they wished they could have me again. Any qualms or nerves dissipated as I received those incredible words of praise and encouragement. I reflected and realised that the kids had no idea whatsoever that I was new to teaching or nervous.
My advice to anyone about to take on their first day:
• PLAN thoroughly. It's better to have over planned than not have enough and be put on the spot.
• MARK everything you do, even if that means spending time at recess, lunch and after school.
• OUTLINE your expectations for both quality of work and behaviour before every lesson.
• STICK to the consequences you give for both positive and negative behaviour - don't go soft for anyone and don't forget to reward those doing the right thing.
• CHECK that you've signed in, whether you have a playground duty and that you have the roll.
Good luck :)
Sunday, 16 September 2012
Saturday, 15 September 2012
Global Connections
This post isn't strictly about teaching or my experiences as a teacher. However, as I sit perched quite literally on a piece of secluded Thai coastline gazing out into thunderous waves and an ominously blue grey horizon I'm inspired at the glorious beauty of the world surrounding me and reminiscing journeys past that have taken me to the most incredible corners of this planet.
A worldly education is SO important for any child. Acts as simple as taking them to an ethnic grocer (food doesn't grow at Coles!! Novelty!!), walking through the city or visiting a museum will do the world of good in expanding your child's horizon.
As a teacher, it's very easy to see which children have these sorts of experiences and which do not. A fairly standard Monday morning practise at any school is to write a journal entry about the weekend. Lots of children write the same thing every Monday - they like to tell me about what food they ate, what video games they played and what tv shows they watched. Other children's journals are punctuated with entries that involve visits to the library, gardening with Grandma, museum visits, trips to the Botanical Gardens and *gasp* playing outside. It is SHOCKING the amount of general knowledge that these kids pick up just from simple activities like those I've mentioned. Their attitude towards life is open to new experiences and their inherent inquisitiveness is heightened.
When I teach the older grades I am often appalled at their lack of global knowledge. I recently had a child in a gifted and talented class write down both France and Nepal as countries with rain forests. It's a regular occurrence to have kids laugh at different cultures simply because it's a shock to see someone in traditional dress or eating different food.
Now I'd just like to share some of my favourite memories with you from around the globe that have contributed to the person I am today.
• Walking through Singapore at 5am after our connecting flight was delayed. An overwhelming and suffocating heat slowly began to enclose us as the sun rose. My first taste of Asian heat.
• Landing in Pattaya army airstrip after said flight had been diverted due to violent riots in Bangkok. Hundreds upon hundreds of Indians were sleeping on the floor and we literally had to step over them to get out.
• The repugnant yet intoxicating smell of dried squid. This smell made my mouth water as I sat on the edge of the Mekong River in Laos eating a woven basket full of sticky rice that was riddled with ants.
• My heart shattering horror at staring at thousands of photos of the children who had been tortured and killed by the Khmer Rouge in Cambodia.
• Meeting two 11 year old orphan girls who understood and respected the importance of their education. They knew that education meant the difference between life and death, poverty and having enough to eat. The most humbling experience and one of the largest contributing factors in my decision to be a teacher.
• Taking five steps into the Amazon jungle, turning around and being unable to tell where I came from.
• Having a sick boyfriend in the Amazon, telling our indigenous guide in terrible Spanish who promptly ran into the jungle wielding a machete and returned half an hour later with flowers, roots, leaves and berries. He brewed them into an electric orange tea. My boyfriend was cured within 2 hours.
• Pure bliss and exultation at seeing an Orca dive up out of the water in the Galapagos islands.
• Tears cascading down my face as a pod of several hundred dolphins frolicked around our boat and fins were the only thing I could see for 360 degrees around me.
• Visiting the slums in Rio de Janeiro and seeing some of the most exquisitely beautiful children I'd ever seen in my life.
• Watching the much larger slums in India stretch into the horizon and then feeling angry and guilty at the pity I felt.
• Learning that in India it is perfectly acceptable for a woman to push and barge her way to the front of any line by loudly shouting "Ladies! Ladies!"
• Feeling the extreme chill of -22 degrees that cannot be adequately expressed in words in the Himalayas and realising that people live there, all year round without heating and in shacks made out of thin wood.
I hope it's clear to all who read how these experiences that I've listed, just a handful out of millions of unforgettable memories, have shaped my perspectives, given me knowledge and understanding and are an integral part of who I am.
To a child, family excursions around their home town have a similar impact as they're exposed to new sights, information, people and ideas.
Children need to have their world expanded beyond that of the lounge room.
I'd love to hear people's feedback and thoughts on this topic because it's very close to my heart.
Do your kids enjoy going outside of the home on trips? Are they inquisitive about different foods? Have your travel experiences shaped who you are?
A worldly education is SO important for any child. Acts as simple as taking them to an ethnic grocer (food doesn't grow at Coles!! Novelty!!), walking through the city or visiting a museum will do the world of good in expanding your child's horizon.
As a teacher, it's very easy to see which children have these sorts of experiences and which do not. A fairly standard Monday morning practise at any school is to write a journal entry about the weekend. Lots of children write the same thing every Monday - they like to tell me about what food they ate, what video games they played and what tv shows they watched. Other children's journals are punctuated with entries that involve visits to the library, gardening with Grandma, museum visits, trips to the Botanical Gardens and *gasp* playing outside. It is SHOCKING the amount of general knowledge that these kids pick up just from simple activities like those I've mentioned. Their attitude towards life is open to new experiences and their inherent inquisitiveness is heightened.
When I teach the older grades I am often appalled at their lack of global knowledge. I recently had a child in a gifted and talented class write down both France and Nepal as countries with rain forests. It's a regular occurrence to have kids laugh at different cultures simply because it's a shock to see someone in traditional dress or eating different food.
Now I'd just like to share some of my favourite memories with you from around the globe that have contributed to the person I am today.
• Walking through Singapore at 5am after our connecting flight was delayed. An overwhelming and suffocating heat slowly began to enclose us as the sun rose. My first taste of Asian heat.
• Landing in Pattaya army airstrip after said flight had been diverted due to violent riots in Bangkok. Hundreds upon hundreds of Indians were sleeping on the floor and we literally had to step over them to get out.
• The repugnant yet intoxicating smell of dried squid. This smell made my mouth water as I sat on the edge of the Mekong River in Laos eating a woven basket full of sticky rice that was riddled with ants.
• My heart shattering horror at staring at thousands of photos of the children who had been tortured and killed by the Khmer Rouge in Cambodia.
• Meeting two 11 year old orphan girls who understood and respected the importance of their education. They knew that education meant the difference between life and death, poverty and having enough to eat. The most humbling experience and one of the largest contributing factors in my decision to be a teacher.
• Taking five steps into the Amazon jungle, turning around and being unable to tell where I came from.
• Having a sick boyfriend in the Amazon, telling our indigenous guide in terrible Spanish who promptly ran into the jungle wielding a machete and returned half an hour later with flowers, roots, leaves and berries. He brewed them into an electric orange tea. My boyfriend was cured within 2 hours.
• Pure bliss and exultation at seeing an Orca dive up out of the water in the Galapagos islands.
• Tears cascading down my face as a pod of several hundred dolphins frolicked around our boat and fins were the only thing I could see for 360 degrees around me.
• Visiting the slums in Rio de Janeiro and seeing some of the most exquisitely beautiful children I'd ever seen in my life.
• Watching the much larger slums in India stretch into the horizon and then feeling angry and guilty at the pity I felt.
• Learning that in India it is perfectly acceptable for a woman to push and barge her way to the front of any line by loudly shouting "Ladies! Ladies!"
• Feeling the extreme chill of -22 degrees that cannot be adequately expressed in words in the Himalayas and realising that people live there, all year round without heating and in shacks made out of thin wood.
I hope it's clear to all who read how these experiences that I've listed, just a handful out of millions of unforgettable memories, have shaped my perspectives, given me knowledge and understanding and are an integral part of who I am.
To a child, family excursions around their home town have a similar impact as they're exposed to new sights, information, people and ideas.
Children need to have their world expanded beyond that of the lounge room.
I'd love to hear people's feedback and thoughts on this topic because it's very close to my heart.
Do your kids enjoy going outside of the home on trips? Are they inquisitive about different foods? Have your travel experiences shaped who you are?
Friday, 14 September 2012
The Naughty Book
I can't explain why but all children seem to take a nasty pleasure in getting other children into trouble. I knew this but was unprepared for the literal onslaught of 'dobbers' that would hunt me down every playground duty to violently exclaim their tales of injustice or sycophantly point out the tiniest of infringements, lest the wrongdoers go unpunished.
I have a multitude of dobber stories to share at a later point but this post is especially reserved for Ivan.
One fine day I was meandering through the Year 2 handball area on first half lunch duty when a flurry of excitement caught my eye. Sure enough, a gang of kindergarten boys were throttling towards me, their eyes ablaze with fury. A cacophony of anguished wails met my ears and I deciphered the following:
"There's a boy swearing!"
"He said naughty words!"
"He said the P word!!"
"Yeah, he said the P word!"
"He said the P word and the F word!!!!"
Hearing that the infringement was the dreaded F word, I set off at once. I sent one child to fetch me the feared naughty book while the gang led me to the opposite corner of the playground and proceeded to encircle a boy sitting on the ground, their fingers raised in accusing points while the dobber shouts continued. I shushed the onlooking crowd and reprimanded bystanders for not minding their own business. Sat before me was a small, blonde child that was snivelling and sobbing. It's this kind of remorse that separates truly naughty children with those that have just slipped up and I was touched by his genuine shame. I knelt before him and put on my most nurturing Kindy voice.
"Hey matey. Did you say a naughty word?"
He began to sob harder and feebly nodded while staring at the ground.
"Look at me darling. We must never, ever say naughty words because they're ugly and it's against school rules. Did you say the naughty word for any reason?"
He choked out an anguished reply:
"Yes, they were all annoying me!"
At this the gang were in uproar and defiant shouts ensued that were only quelled by my cranky teacher state that I have nearly perfected.
"Matey, that's what teachers are here for. If people are being mean to you, you can come and tell a teacher who will help you. It's never ok to swear, even if people are annoying you."
At this, scenes of lunchtimes past flashed in my mind where I'd literally have a line of children crying about others being mean.
"But do you know what the best thing to do is? Just say 'don't do it, I don't like it', and if they still annoy you just walk away and find nicer friends to play with."
By this time the Naughty Book had been fetched. I like to avoid putting the little ones in the book because it really is the worst punishment in the world for all except the infamous, hardened, naughty boys. But swearing is very naughty for a kindergarten child and a practice that ought to be nipped in the bud.
"Ivan, I'm going to put you into the naughty book. You've already gotten into trouble by me so you won't get into more trouble but what this means is that if you do anything else naughty, we'll be able to see that you've been naughty two times and then it'll be pretty serious."
Ivan sadly nodded his head and began to cry again. I started to write the details in but when it came to what actually happened, I needed clarification. I looked to the gang and asked what happened.
"He said the P word!"
"He said the P word and the F word!"
At this, Ivan's head shot up in anger and cried
"No! Just the P word!!"
At this, the gang nodded their assent that this was indeed true. The boy claiming to have heard the F word then wandered off and I actually think he was a ring in who had been attracted by all the commotion in the first place. I confirmed it was just the P word but had begun to wonder what on earth the P word was. Piss? It was the only word I could think of.
"Ivan, whisper in my ear what the naughty word was, just so I know. You won't be in more trouble."
Ivan choked back a sob while staring at me dubiously, then leant forward and in a strangled whisper said:
"...Poop."
Before starting a renewed fit of sobs. At this I bit my lip as hard as I could to stop a grin spreading across my face. Tears stung the back of my eyes at my repressed laughter. When I had finally composed myself enough to continue I replied so the whole crowd could hear me:
"Well that's a SILLY word and it's not a nice word but it's not a really, really naughty word so I'm not going to put you in the naughty book."
Poor Ivan, who is probably a lovely and sensible child most of the time hadn't yet recovered from the shock of nearly being in the Naughty Book by the time second half lunch had come around and I left for the staff room. I, however, laughed for days later at the events but was also warmed at the innocence of a large group of boys thinking 'Poop' was a swear word.
I have a multitude of dobber stories to share at a later point but this post is especially reserved for Ivan.
One fine day I was meandering through the Year 2 handball area on first half lunch duty when a flurry of excitement caught my eye. Sure enough, a gang of kindergarten boys were throttling towards me, their eyes ablaze with fury. A cacophony of anguished wails met my ears and I deciphered the following:
"There's a boy swearing!"
"He said naughty words!"
"He said the P word!!"
"Yeah, he said the P word!"
"He said the P word and the F word!!!!"
Hearing that the infringement was the dreaded F word, I set off at once. I sent one child to fetch me the feared naughty book while the gang led me to the opposite corner of the playground and proceeded to encircle a boy sitting on the ground, their fingers raised in accusing points while the dobber shouts continued. I shushed the onlooking crowd and reprimanded bystanders for not minding their own business. Sat before me was a small, blonde child that was snivelling and sobbing. It's this kind of remorse that separates truly naughty children with those that have just slipped up and I was touched by his genuine shame. I knelt before him and put on my most nurturing Kindy voice.
"Hey matey. Did you say a naughty word?"
He began to sob harder and feebly nodded while staring at the ground.
"Look at me darling. We must never, ever say naughty words because they're ugly and it's against school rules. Did you say the naughty word for any reason?"
He choked out an anguished reply:
"Yes, they were all annoying me!"
At this the gang were in uproar and defiant shouts ensued that were only quelled by my cranky teacher state that I have nearly perfected.
"Matey, that's what teachers are here for. If people are being mean to you, you can come and tell a teacher who will help you. It's never ok to swear, even if people are annoying you."
At this, scenes of lunchtimes past flashed in my mind where I'd literally have a line of children crying about others being mean.
"But do you know what the best thing to do is? Just say 'don't do it, I don't like it', and if they still annoy you just walk away and find nicer friends to play with."
By this time the Naughty Book had been fetched. I like to avoid putting the little ones in the book because it really is the worst punishment in the world for all except the infamous, hardened, naughty boys. But swearing is very naughty for a kindergarten child and a practice that ought to be nipped in the bud.
"Ivan, I'm going to put you into the naughty book. You've already gotten into trouble by me so you won't get into more trouble but what this means is that if you do anything else naughty, we'll be able to see that you've been naughty two times and then it'll be pretty serious."
Ivan sadly nodded his head and began to cry again. I started to write the details in but when it came to what actually happened, I needed clarification. I looked to the gang and asked what happened.
"He said the P word!"
"He said the P word and the F word!"
At this, Ivan's head shot up in anger and cried
"No! Just the P word!!"
At this, the gang nodded their assent that this was indeed true. The boy claiming to have heard the F word then wandered off and I actually think he was a ring in who had been attracted by all the commotion in the first place. I confirmed it was just the P word but had begun to wonder what on earth the P word was. Piss? It was the only word I could think of.
"Ivan, whisper in my ear what the naughty word was, just so I know. You won't be in more trouble."
Ivan choked back a sob while staring at me dubiously, then leant forward and in a strangled whisper said:
"...Poop."
Before starting a renewed fit of sobs. At this I bit my lip as hard as I could to stop a grin spreading across my face. Tears stung the back of my eyes at my repressed laughter. When I had finally composed myself enough to continue I replied so the whole crowd could hear me:
"Well that's a SILLY word and it's not a nice word but it's not a really, really naughty word so I'm not going to put you in the naughty book."
Poor Ivan, who is probably a lovely and sensible child most of the time hadn't yet recovered from the shock of nearly being in the Naughty Book by the time second half lunch had come around and I left for the staff room. I, however, laughed for days later at the events but was also warmed at the innocence of a large group of boys thinking 'Poop' was a swear word.
Sunday, 9 September 2012
Afternoon news
Afternoon news is one of my favourite sessions at school purely because of the hilarity of what the monkeys find newsworthy.
"Good afternoon KC."
"GOOD AFTERNOON JAMES!" the whole class cries in that familiar sing-song chorus. I wonder what I'll hear today?
James stands before the class wearing a look of deep seriousness and waits in silence. He looks at me, eyebrows raised and says:
"I can't start because Georgie isn't sitting on her bottom." A pointed glare in Georgie's direction shames her into unfolding her legs from underneath her and sitting cross legged.
Cooper in the front row is sitting with his back so straight he is actually about to topple over backwards. His arms are rigid and end in his tiny hands gripping his knees with such ferocity that his knuckles are turning white. I daren't look at his face because I will sob with laughter - his eyeballs are bulging, his cheeks are sucked in to their maximum and his eyes will be darting between the news-teller and me as he steals glances of agonised longing at the stickers in my hand that I reserve for 'the best listeners'. The irony is that he's barely listening at all for the immense amounts of concentration required to lean as far back as possible in the attempt to sit up straight.
James begins.
"Well I have these snakes." From his pocket he pulls out two rubber snakes - one red, one green. The audible gasps of "aww cool" are silenced by James who stares daggers at anyone interrupting his turn to speak.
"These snakes are real but I turned them into plastic because the green one tried to bite me and hypnotise me."
I shove my knuckles into my mouth in an attempt to plug my giggles as this is no laughing matter. The class stares with solemn reverie at the snakes and some of the boys even give knowing nods.
"Do you mean paralyse James?" I ask.
"No."
I guess I was wrong! James continues his news that has somehow evolved into a death defying escape from the two snakes that have tried, and failed, to hypnotise him. Tears are literally pouring down my cheeks as I stifle giggles but some of the kids have caught on and are starting to laugh too. Eventually all 20 of us are guffawing at the ridiculousness of this tale and even James is finding it hard to finish between his own laughs.
"Thank you for listening KC."
"YOU'RE WELCOME JAMES!"
Before I can call up the next student, little Bailey, a gorgeous child who would make a great teacher one day, has jumped up and leans in close to whisper in my ear.
"Excuse me Miss Carlson, do you think it would be ok if I had a special news? It's not my news day but I have something special to tell everyone." Intrigued, I agree.
After another rousing chorus of good afternoon Bailey asks the class:
"So who knows where we come from?"
Oh God what have I done?! Are we about to get a sex ed lesson?! Hands fly into the air.
Bailey murmurs aloud - "mm, can't choose you Alex you were just talking and that's rude. Oh! Can't choose you either Sophie you're doing the wrong thing." His eyes finally stop on Isaiah who answers:
"Jesus made us."
Bailey's face splits into a grin of scornful glee as though he expected this answer and chose Isaiah purposefully.
"Nope, wrong! It's a process called evolution. You see, millions of billions of millions of trillions of years ago we were monkeys and over time we changed just a little bit every few years until we became humans. Any questions?"
Hands fly into the air again and Isaiah's is waggling furiously while his face is a determined grimace. Bailey chooses another person but Isaiah cannot stand it and bursts out:
"Nuh-uh!! Jesus and God made us because that's what they told me at church."
I am frankly shocked at the level of intelligent debate occurring in kindergarten and am flabbergasted for a moment.
Jake pipes up and is wearing a smug grin - "Umm, I THINK Isaiah would know. He knows all about this stuff because he goes to church."
The whole class looks to me, waiting for my rule on the topic. They all stare expectantly into my face for answers.
"Well, as you grow up you might hear different reasons for how we got here and it's up to you to make up your mind which of them you want to believe. It's important to listen to what your parents tell you but also listen to the other ideas too so you have lots of information."
Although kindergarten seems to grasp the evolutionist vs creationist debate the concept of multiple truths eludes them and they are incredulous that I am saying that more than one answer can be right. They want answers, dammit! The class erupts into angry noise with Isaiah's voice at the foreground simply repeating, "Nah! Nah! Nah!" in horror. Jake is simply smiling into the distance as though no debate could shake his belief system and is faintly amused by the situation. A few kids are still staring at me questioningly and I decide to wrap it up.
"Guys, you need to ask your parents about what you want to know alright? Say thank you for listening, Bailey."
I give Cooper a sticker for being a good listener and he relaxes instantly, flexing his hands.
You never know what you're going to get with afternoon news.
"Good afternoon KC."
"GOOD AFTERNOON JAMES!" the whole class cries in that familiar sing-song chorus. I wonder what I'll hear today?
James stands before the class wearing a look of deep seriousness and waits in silence. He looks at me, eyebrows raised and says:
"I can't start because Georgie isn't sitting on her bottom." A pointed glare in Georgie's direction shames her into unfolding her legs from underneath her and sitting cross legged.
Cooper in the front row is sitting with his back so straight he is actually about to topple over backwards. His arms are rigid and end in his tiny hands gripping his knees with such ferocity that his knuckles are turning white. I daren't look at his face because I will sob with laughter - his eyeballs are bulging, his cheeks are sucked in to their maximum and his eyes will be darting between the news-teller and me as he steals glances of agonised longing at the stickers in my hand that I reserve for 'the best listeners'. The irony is that he's barely listening at all for the immense amounts of concentration required to lean as far back as possible in the attempt to sit up straight.
James begins.
"Well I have these snakes." From his pocket he pulls out two rubber snakes - one red, one green. The audible gasps of "aww cool" are silenced by James who stares daggers at anyone interrupting his turn to speak.
"These snakes are real but I turned them into plastic because the green one tried to bite me and hypnotise me."
I shove my knuckles into my mouth in an attempt to plug my giggles as this is no laughing matter. The class stares with solemn reverie at the snakes and some of the boys even give knowing nods.
"Do you mean paralyse James?" I ask.
"No."
I guess I was wrong! James continues his news that has somehow evolved into a death defying escape from the two snakes that have tried, and failed, to hypnotise him. Tears are literally pouring down my cheeks as I stifle giggles but some of the kids have caught on and are starting to laugh too. Eventually all 20 of us are guffawing at the ridiculousness of this tale and even James is finding it hard to finish between his own laughs.
"Thank you for listening KC."
"YOU'RE WELCOME JAMES!"
Before I can call up the next student, little Bailey, a gorgeous child who would make a great teacher one day, has jumped up and leans in close to whisper in my ear.
"Excuse me Miss Carlson, do you think it would be ok if I had a special news? It's not my news day but I have something special to tell everyone." Intrigued, I agree.
After another rousing chorus of good afternoon Bailey asks the class:
"So who knows where we come from?"
Oh God what have I done?! Are we about to get a sex ed lesson?! Hands fly into the air.
Bailey murmurs aloud - "mm, can't choose you Alex you were just talking and that's rude. Oh! Can't choose you either Sophie you're doing the wrong thing." His eyes finally stop on Isaiah who answers:
"Jesus made us."
Bailey's face splits into a grin of scornful glee as though he expected this answer and chose Isaiah purposefully.
"Nope, wrong! It's a process called evolution. You see, millions of billions of millions of trillions of years ago we were monkeys and over time we changed just a little bit every few years until we became humans. Any questions?"
Hands fly into the air again and Isaiah's is waggling furiously while his face is a determined grimace. Bailey chooses another person but Isaiah cannot stand it and bursts out:
"Nuh-uh!! Jesus and God made us because that's what they told me at church."
I am frankly shocked at the level of intelligent debate occurring in kindergarten and am flabbergasted for a moment.
Jake pipes up and is wearing a smug grin - "Umm, I THINK Isaiah would know. He knows all about this stuff because he goes to church."
The whole class looks to me, waiting for my rule on the topic. They all stare expectantly into my face for answers.
"Well, as you grow up you might hear different reasons for how we got here and it's up to you to make up your mind which of them you want to believe. It's important to listen to what your parents tell you but also listen to the other ideas too so you have lots of information."
Although kindergarten seems to grasp the evolutionist vs creationist debate the concept of multiple truths eludes them and they are incredulous that I am saying that more than one answer can be right. They want answers, dammit! The class erupts into angry noise with Isaiah's voice at the foreground simply repeating, "Nah! Nah! Nah!" in horror. Jake is simply smiling into the distance as though no debate could shake his belief system and is faintly amused by the situation. A few kids are still staring at me questioningly and I decide to wrap it up.
"Guys, you need to ask your parents about what you want to know alright? Say thank you for listening, Bailey."
I give Cooper a sticker for being a good listener and he relaxes instantly, flexing his hands.
You never know what you're going to get with afternoon news.
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