Imagine a doctor, seeing twenty-five patients, with different ailments and symptoms, from various backgrounds in his office at the same time. Imagine having to diagnose, treat, assist, and care for all twenty-five patients at the same time. That is a teacher's day, every day. We have twenty+ students of all different abilities and backgrounds, personalities and needs. We are obligated to help them learn, grow, and succeed.
In third grade I am constantly working with students to become more independent and use some problem-solving skills, but it seems there are usually five or six students at any given time throughout the day waiting for me. I've often thought that I should get one of those "Now Serving" machines at the deli counters where you can take a number and then you wait for your number to be called. Although I don't have that, thanks to Pinterest, I do have cute little laminated numbered pencils that I use during Writer's Workshop time. Students take one when they are ready to conference with me. I call out the next number and watch for the excited, lucky "winner" to leap from their desk clutching their writer's notebook and pencil. It's a great way to keep them all on task, writing, while they wait their turn.
As a teacher, I try to differentiate throughout the day as well as use workshop models so that all students are getting what they need. But there are times during the day where I can't possibly be with each one of them at every moment. I'm greatly out numbered.
Today in the midst of calling numbers and conferencing with the students, one student approached me to offer some friendly advice.
"Don't you wish you had eight arms like an octopus? Then you could call back eight students at a time and you'd get done faster?" He said this as if I should have already thought of this myself.
"Well, that's a great idea," I began. "But I don't really think I want to be an octopus. I would have to live in the sea, and quite honestly, octopus kind of freak me out."
He chuckled. "Yeah, they kind of freak me out too. And you would look really weird."
He walked away, probably to work on another idea of how to help me speed up my conferencing and get to him faster.
Pass by any classroom and you'll probably see a teacher surrounded by kids. They might be walking beside her to ask a question. They might be surrounding the teacher in a circle, so she can't go anywhere until she listens to their comments. They might be haphazardly lined up by her desk or table, waiting their turn to show an assignment. They might be outside the classroom, trying to push their way to the teacher to get help zipping a coat.
I've thought about what it would be like, if as a teacher, I worked with my students, like a doctor sees patients. If I saw them one-on-one and listened carefully to their needs without any interruptions or time constraints. A teacher's job is like no other for many, many reasons. We deal with a lot of students for a lot of hours every day. We work hard to meet their individual needs while, at the same time, teach them cooperation and sharing.
But I'm not a doctor. Or an octopus.
I'm just a teacher, doing my best to help every student succeed. And if you have any suggestions or comments for me, will you kindly just take a number and have a seat?
Because I may be a while.
My class is so terrific! This week they finished up their first Cootie Bug (if you don't know what I'm talking about, read earlier blog One For All, All For One ). I had told them that each time we complete a bug, they get to pick a reward of some sort.
Naturally, they were really excited to chose something special so ideas were taken, written on the board, and the voting began. There were ten ideas, students voted for their top choice, and then the top three were voted on. It was between no homework for the night, inviting a friend in for lunch, or fifteen minutes of "free choice" time. In third grade any free time is a rare commodity, as our days are very hectic. At the end of voting there were eleven students who wanted no homework and ten who wanted to invite a friend for lunch. So, instead of going with the most popular, I let them each get the choice they wanted. It was interesting to see the students excited about no homework for the night, and other ones looking forward to lunch with a friend, not minding homework the least bit.
On Thursday, five of my little ones went to ask a friend to our room for lunch. Imagine my surprise when four of them asked me if they could invite their darling little kindergarten buddy! We are buddies with one of the kindergarten classes and every other week we get together with them: a third grader is paired up with a kindergartner. They read books together, play math games, write stories, play outside on the "little kids side", and just have a great time together. The third graders love being the 'teacher' and helping their buddy and the buddies really enjoy having an older kid help them and give them such wonderful attention. It's a win-win situation for all.
At lunch, they went and picked up their buddies, pulled over chairs for them and dug into their lunches. The chairs were a bit too big and the tables were a little too high, but the third graders carefully got their little friend settled in.
It was so cute to see the little kindergartners talking with a table of third graders who helped them open food packages and laughed and talked. It could have been a little intimidating for these tiny, five year olds to come into the "big kids" room and eat lunch, but they seemed very comfortable.
At one point, one of my third graders came over to me and asked me if I wanted to hear a cute story about her little buddy. "Of course," I told her. "I'd like nothing more."
"Well, you know, my little buddy [insert name] picked up a piece of cheese and took a bite and told me it tasted like cheese!", she laughed. "So, I told her it tasted like cheese because it was cheese!" she explained further, still giggling. "And do you know what she said then?" she asked.
"No idea," I responded. Because I really had no idea.
"She told me that she didn't know cheese was so delicious! Isn't that too cute?" she happily smiled.
"Too cute," I agreed and, happy that I also was impressed with her kindergartner's degree of cuteness, she rushed back over to her lunch and her buddy.
I watched as the third graders helped their buddies out with cleaning up and even saw one wipe some lunch remains off the face of her little buddy. They hugged each other and said goodbye, the recess bell rang, and off the third graders went.
This week I learned that my students are even more remarkable than I thought. The kindness they displayed, the cooperation with one another, and the simple fact that when they have the choice of inviting any friend to have lunch with them, their top pick is a little five year old friend.
I spoke with the kindergarten teacher and she confirmed that the ones who had been to our room for lunch were so excited and had a great time. So we decided we'll surprise all of our students next week and instead of getting together for our usual buddy time, we are going to all have lunch together.
Because, Cootie Bug or no Cootie Bug, my students deserve it!
As a teacher, being called "mom" is a regular occurrence during any given day. I love seeing the reactions from the students when they slip and call me mom when they are trying to get my attention. It runs the gamut from red cheeked embarrassment and a little laughter to acting like they are some kind of ventriloquist that just threw their voice across the room. I always smile and sometimes even play along. Believe me, after hearing your name on repeat all day long, it's a welcome change to be called mom.
Today, one of the little girls came up to show me her beautiful newspaper project she had been diligently working on. She squeezed in close to me as I sat at the back table helping another little one next to me.
"Does this look good to you, mom?" she sweetly asked. The other student and I stopped what we were discussing and turned to look at the now red-cheeked little one.
"It looks stunning!" I informed her, smiling ear to ear to show I didn't mind being called mom and trying to ease her embarrassment. "And I sure hope you cleaned up your room like I asked you to this morning!" I added.
She laughed and headed back to her seat carrying the work-in-progress. I definitely think her mother would have agreed that it was, in fact, a stunning piece of work.
Students I had in my class last year tend to call me by their new teachers name when we meet in the hallway. Whenever they do, I have some fun with them and call them a different name too. It goes like this:
"Hi Mrs. [4th grade teacher name]!" they say to me as they pass by my room.
Within seconds, they see their error and either blush with embarrassment or smile.
"Oh.... hi [random student name, but not theirs]," I reply. "How's 4th grade going?"
Since they are in 4th grade, and they put up with my sarcasm and sense of humor last year, they always play along.
To change it up, the next time they mistakenly call me another teacher's name I might say, "Hey [correct student name]! How is 2nd grade going this year?" That usually stops them in their tracks to explain that they are in 4th grade this year. To which I respond, "Oh.... sure you are.... right.....how did that happen?" as I keep walking.
I know when my own daughter was little, she would often call me by her teacher's name at home. I wonder if that happens with any of my students? In a child's mind, I imagine there is quite a connection between a child's teacher and their mother, at times.
Teachers are called "mom" for many reasons. It might be because we are kind and helpful and loving and patient. It might be because we praise them when they deserve it and discipline them when they need it. Maybe it's because we want them to be the very best they can. We want them to grow and be happy and safe and be good people. We want them to be successful and confident and independent. We teach them and support them and encourage them and guide them. We are proud of their accomplishments, both in and out of school. We help them get their boots on and their coat zippers unstuck and remind them to keep their desk neat. We give them band-aids and take care of them when they are sick. We referee arguments and model how to be a friend. We answer questions, read books to them, play outside with them, and joke with them. We listen to them and show them how to listen to others. We miss them when they leave for the summer and move to the next grade or school. I guess it's no wonder we get mistaken for a mom.
I'm both a mom and a teacher and although I'm extremely proud of being called a teacher, I am equally honored by all the little ones who have slipped up and called me "mom".
I hope I've done them all justice.
