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Help a child’s eyes
light up
By Bob Robinson
The semester has only just begun and I’ve had the pleasure of working
with kindergartners, second, third and fourth graders, high school
juniors and seniors and adults in their 20s, 30s and 40s.
It’s fascinating to observe the differences – and similarities – in the
various age groups.
I think I mentioned once that a friend of mine referred to kindergarten
students as “popcorn” – they pop up and down as the impulse hits them.
The structured environment necessary teach a class of 22 (more or less)
5- and 6-year-olds is a concept that takes time to sink in.
My respect and admiration for elementary school teachers – especially
at the K-2 level – exceeds all bounds.
If I remember right, the school year was several months old, maybe even
into the second semester, before I was assigned my first kindergarten
class. This time, the semester was barely three weeks old.
The difference in the growth of students in a “K” class deep into the
semester last year, versus one so soon after they are introduced to the
“full day classroom” environment this year, is a study of night and day.
They have adapted to the routine fairly well; students have their
various assignments and are happy to accomplish them. They want to
please and enjoy earning their responsibilities.
But are they emotionally adjusted? Not as much as they would be in
another few months.
For instance, there are several rules that are inviolate at Woodland.
Probably the most important of them is “keep your hands, arms and feet
to yourself.” They know the rule. Several of them can recite it, along
with the other rules.
But then they forget. They look sheepish as they are reminded… Then,
once again, they forget.
In fairness, I’m referring to about half the class, or less. In a few
months, based upon my own experience only, it will be whittled down to
just a few students.
Tears flowed much more readily this year. Two students knew the rules
but burst into tears when being corrected; one just wanted to go home
most of the day… she was tired.
Until, of course, the next activity started (or it was time for recess)
and their attention refocused.
I was exhausted Friday but proud of my kindergartners… we actually
accomplished 90 percent of what the teacher had requested in her
substitute instructions.
Did I mention that my admiration for these teachers exceeds all bounds?
Contrast that to my Edison classes… two of which are 80-90 percent
post-secondary (high school juniors and seniors), and the other two of
which are primarily adults enrolled in some form of career training.
Most of the adults are parents who work full time in addition to their
classes.
The adults are as open as the elementary kids, albeit a little more
controlled in their enthusiasm. Usually, but not always. The
post-secondary? One class is finally starting to come around… getting
more engaged. The other? At the moment it’s like pulling teeth to get
any interaction.
I recently discovered one interesting contrast this year, but only
because the student (a young adult) was honest enough to share it…
At Woodland the kids see this strange man waiting for them when they
come into the room and wonder what’s going on. Teachers aren’t men.
Teachers are women. I tell them my name and then I say “but I’m real
lucky… today I get to be Mrs. (name of their teacher).” They laugh and
say, “You can’t be Mrs. (name). You’re a man!!”
And the day starts off on a positive note.
I don’t have a “break-the-ice” comment for my college classes (I’ve
tried several; they all go over like lead balloons)… it usually takes
two, maybe three classes to get them warmed up. Occasionally, it
doesn’t happen until halfway through the semester or later. A student
in Piqua told me one of the reasons, at least from her perspective…
“I walked into class and saw you – this old man – and thought oh my
God, he’s old. This is going to be a boring class.”
“So how am I doing,” I asked, grinning.
“A-minus,” she said, also grinning. “Always room for improvement.”
She ain’t dumb.
Sometimes I use my age as a learning tool to create an example the
elementary kids can relate to… for instance, if all of them are talking
at once, I can’t hear any of them…
“Why not?”
“I’m old. My hearing isn’t as good.”
“How old are you?”
“How old do you think I am?”
The answers have ranged from 40 to 100. I’ve discovered that they are
typically relating me to their own grandpas or great-grandpas.
The only purely frustrating note I can think of, and this encompasses
ALL ages, from 5 to 50… No matter how many times I explain an
assignment or requirement, there will always be one or two or a dozen
students who will ask me an hour later, or a week later… how did you
want us to do that?
Excusable maybe at the elementary level. In college? I grit my teeth
and respond professionally.
That said, my teaching experiences are fantastic. I love every minute
of every class every day. I often learn as much from my students as I
hope they learn from me.
But there was one special moment last week that explained clearly, at
least to me, why many teachers teach…
I was helping a fourth grader who had trouble understanding the concept
of how the digits in a series of numbers related to the relative sizes
of those numbers. We tried a couple different approaches and she just
wasn’t getting it.
Then I tried a third approach, and suddenly I saw her eyes light up.
She got it! That was the highlight of my day and will likely remain one
for a long time to come.
You could have days like that, too.
I don’t know about East - nothing has been said to me - but Woodland
needs volunteers to help them work with these children… a child wants
to learn but sometimes needs a little extra help. Even with 22 students
in a classroom, teachers will address the extra need as soon as they
are able. That’s who they are… that’s what they do.
But how much more could they accomplish if an old-timer like one of us
stopped by to help out whenever we have two or three hours available?
Seeing a child’s eyes light up as he or she suddenly understands?
That’s a natural “high” that can stick with you for a long time. A
really long time.
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