Oh My Littles...

“The soul is healed by being with children.”

  — Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Russian novelist and philosopher

My kids are trying hard to steal my heart and I think it's working. 

A couple weeks ago I was going through a little bit of homesickness/after graduation crisis, and maybe the littles could tell. I try hard to keep that separate from work, since my mood does a lot to set the tone for how the day goes for them, but kids are incredibly intuitive. There is a lot they don't miss. So maybe I fooled them, but they're smarter than I am, so probably not.

What amazes me though are which kids initially reach out. In Sun Class (older kindergarten) we have Dani who is a feisty little thing with a big attitude. Her dad also brings her to school on his motorcycle, and let me tell you, I didn't believe it the first time she told me. Then I saw it. Her dad doesn't match our Harley biker stereotypes, but to say he isn't super cool pulling into that parking lot with her tucked behind him would be an understatement. All black leather and boots, shorter and more lithe than stocky. Honestly, even though he seems half the size of a biker in the US he's just super cool. And Dani with her leather jacket is equally impressive. It gives her a level of street cred most six year-olds can't claim, and she knows it. 

She's not necessarily the most affectionate of my students. She likes to rough-house, is prone to pouting if things don't quite go her way, and overall just is a tough little cookie. I really enjoy teaching her, and as we've gotten to know each other, the teasing can get a little wild. Sweet, is not an adjective that would pop up in her personal word cloud. 

Generally for writing assignments everyone follows the template that I set, and while I let them have some autonomy with their writing, Dani at times deviates a little too far from the point of the exercise. This results in a mild power struggle which generally ends with her pretending to pout, but laughing because she's a punk and she knows it. 

But this last time she used sneaky sincerity, and it was super effective:

I didn't cry, but it was tempting. I definitely gave her a giant hug which made her giggle, and it was fun to see her reaction to my reaction. I forget that no matter the kid, they are capable of so much good, especially at that age. 

Maybe the kids decided to accept me as one of their own, because it was that same week that my youngest class as a whole seemed to decide that I was alright (I already thought they had but I guess I was wrong), and swarm me with hugs, "I love you" letters, and try to be as close as possible. I'm grateful there's only three of them, because between my lap and hanging off my back, I'm at full carrying capacity. 

I've been asked a couple times by people from other schools if I wouldn't prefer just teaching elementary and middle school ages. They're known for being easier, generally have better language skills (depending), and hours are a little more flexible. "Kindergarteners can be lots of work," they say, "it might be easier without them.".

I heartily disagree. Don't get me wrong, I love my elementary and middle school kids. They're amazing in their own ways, and I wouldn't swap them out either. That being said, I really really enjoy the littles. We sing "Let it Go" together at full volume on our way too and back from field trips, and they don't let little things like knowing the lyrics stop them from belting at the top of their lungs. It's coloring princess pictures, doing science projects (that sometime fail), squashing mosquitos, and realizing that we ALL were matching that one day in class. 

If it's difficult to find a reason to be mindlessly excited, just play with a five year old. It won't take long for them to find something. 

Then there's my little trouble makers (some not so little). My supervisor told me that there were some trouble kids in the school, and the listed all of the boys except for one. It was at that moment I decided I was going to be friends with all these little boys, who were likely just suffering from being in school ten to twelve hours a day. 

This has easily been one of the best decision of my life. 

Tim constantly is trying to wrestle me to the ground (he's stupid strong for a kid barely tall enough to pass my hip) and the only reason he fails is because I was in karate just long enough to learn how to escape grips. Bentley isn't actually named Bentley, but the kids started calling him that in class and it just fits his quiet smiley personality so well that I do too sometimes. He and Liam are the youngest in a class that ranges from first to fourth grade. These two are opposites in many ways. Bentley being sweet and quiet, Liam impish and adorable. They severely test my decision to not have favorites in any given class.  

Jay from another class used to be a solid tease, but when one of other boys, Beau, started to have behavioral trouble in class, he quietly shifted. He's more serious now, and teases less, focusing on studying and listening. He quietly serves Beau, and does his best to listen and help me. It's bittersweet, as I miss the tease that he was when I first taught, but appreciate his growth. But he'll surprise me still sometimes and do things like slip a little rubber band ring he made onto my pinky, then wrap his arms around my hand while I'm leaning against the table to check his work. Those little things I treasure.

There are so many more kids I could talk about, my middle schooler who doodles on the homework because she knows I love seeing them, my really quiet class who inherited a talker and the chaos that caused in their lives...the list goes on. To say I've been incredibly blessed in my work is an understatement. There are days I've left work feeling entirely defeated...knowing that I've seriously failed my kids. But the next day I get to come back and try again. And they let me. They forgive my mistakes and don't remember them. They laugh at my cheesy jokes, share their snacks, and even if they say they didn't miss me at all over the weekend, I live for their Friday goodbyes when they all yell, "SEE YOU MONDAY SHAYLA TEACHER!!". 

-Shayla