"I Wuv You, Mrs.B!"

"Mama says if you love someone you should say it, right then, otherwise the moment just passes you by."

Javier tells me nearly every day that he loves me. 

This little guy spends a half day with our Special Day Teacher and then comes to my class, with an aide, for the afternoon.  He's very sweet and innocent, and also very egocentric.

When I say egocentric, I don't mean it in a way a woman would describe a self-centered, arrogant man.  Young children are described as "egocentric" because it's part of development.  Do you remember that tiny bit of time from a 100 years ago, when all that ever occurred to you, or mattered to you, was your own immediate satisfaction?  As kids age, and around about 6, they begin to realize the world is a pretty big place and they start to learn that it doesn't, actually, revolve around them (most kids anyway!).

Javier is different.  He is still in this stage.  When he wants to turn in his homework, it must be right now.  The other day, a fellow teacher handed me his homework folder and explained that Javier was outside the classroom door, unsuccessfully turning and pulling with all his might on the locked door, trying to get in.  Another kid would have figured out that I wasn't there and turn it in later.

He has a hard time with structure, so when he wants a drink and I tell him no, he throws a fit.  Before he had an aide, he used to sit and cut his word sort into a million pieces, which made it look like it had snowed under his desk.  I'd tell him to stop cutting his paper into a million pieces, so he'd yell, "OK!" and then happily continue on as if I never said anything.

His impulsivity simultaneously gets him in trouble and is the cutest thing about him.  I sometimes envy his ability to live life in the moment.  He loves to play in the sandbox and sometimes throwing sand at that girl right there seems like it would be really fun...and the look on his face as he throws it is one of pure joy.  The second a thought enters his mind, it's acted on with no thought to the consequences, which is something that will not make him happy, but will, conversely cause him to bellow and cry, as it involves being removed from his favorite thing to do.  I, on the other hand, usually consider the consequences to nearly everything I do.  Should I just not show up to work today and see what happens?  Hmmm....let's not and say we did.

I don't let him get away with stuff.  Nobody at school does.  There are consequences to everything he does, including when he does make the right choices.  Lately, his aide has been rewarding him with smiley faces when he raises his hand to speak.  But when he shouts out, he gets one crossed out.  The same goes for when he deliberately, and seemingly innocently, walks straight through someone else's castle made of blocks.  Hey, it's fun destroying stuff!

"Sowry!"  He shouts, and expects to walk away as if "sorry" fixes everything.  Sometimes as he's apologizing, he's walking toward his next victim, seemingly on a castle destroying rampage a l`a Godzilla, complete with his favorite toy airplane in his hand.  The subsequent "logical consequence" is dolled out, but it's lost on him and only serves to make him cry for the moment.  It's mostly to keep an atmosphere of fairness for the kids who've suffered because of him.

Just when I'm at the end of my rope, he does something so completely sweet, it brings tears to my eyes. 

One day this week, for no apparent reason, my whole class was suffering from spring fever and were very...let's say, enthusiastic.  No amount of jogging laps put a dent in this enthusiasm.  In the afternoon, I'd had enough of one boy's constant laughing and wiggliness (I know, how could I?), I was reprimanding him, "If you keep messing around and don't settle down to do your job, you will turn a card," Javier wants to tell me he loves me, and does so, at the same time I am saying those words, he's saying, "Mrs. B, I wuv you...,  Mrs. B!  I wuv you...," (apparently irritated at my slow response), "I WUV YOU MRS.B," and has taken a swatch of my hair and is twirling it gently between his fingers, as the rest of the class looks on.

Deeeeeeeep breath......

...smile...

..and say, "Thank you, Javier, I love you, too."





 

Shall. We. Play. A. Game?

I adore my class. 

They try hard.  They really do.

They have so much fun, laugh, smile...

They have got to be the most uncoordinated, silly, and well-meaning kids I've had the privilege to teach yet.  This is what I like about them...they're just like me!

They love when I teach them games.  They have no idea they're really learning from the games, they're just happy they get to "play." 

For example...we play Stinky Feet, Dodgeball, Around the World, Collect 25 Cents, Money Memory, Sight Word Memory, Sight Word Go Fish, Double Compare (it's really War), Dot Addition, Addition Bingo, Subtraction Bingo, Time Bingo, (anything "bingo"), Speed Math, Highlighter Game, and a variety of card and dice games, all geared to get them to master the California State Standards.  I've learned that most anything can be turned into a game.  With this class, if I call a worksheet a game that I will let them play, they're all over it.  If it involves rolling dice, all the better.  It's just a matter of semantics.  Even walking in line quietly can be turned into a game.

I can't say I've invented these games myself, rather, most of them I've picked up along the way from other people.  I can say, however, that I've mastered the art of taking someone else's idea and tweaking it to fit my own needs. 

For instance, take Stinky Feet.  A colleague of mine introduced this game to us several years ago.  It helps kids master sight words by tying them to something gross-feet that stink!  How wonderful is that?  In fact, it's so fun, they can NOT play this game quietly, it's physically impossible.  The rules aren't even complex.  It consists of a shoe box with a hole in the top, sight word/spelling word cards, and "stinky feet" cards.  They pass the box around, pick a card, read it, show it, and everyone either agrees or disagrees with a thumbs up or down.  If a "stinky feet" card is pulled, everyone says, "p.u. stinky feet!" while pinching their noses in a supposed grossed out state.  Simple, right?  Not.  They're not particularly interested when it's someone else's turn so they will look at just about anything else, including the bottom of their shoes, instead of confirming for their friends that they read the word correctly.  They will also peak and try to get the stinky feet card!  Little stinkers.  This is war!  I took out most of the stinky feet cards...two can play this game!

Around the World is another game that they all clamour and beg to play, yet nobody really likes it when they have to wait their turn.  They all stand in a circle with me in the middle with a giant stack of sight word cards.  Two compete at a time and have to be the first to say the word I flash.  That person gets to advance to the next person in the circle.  If one person goes all the way around the circle (world), he/she wins!  Hardly anyone ever wins, but there's always hope.  In a blur of word after word flashing before their eyes, the messing around that ensues behind my back fades to the background.  I think that's the fun they associate with this game...imagine them all giggling and consorting behind me, totally believing that I have no idea what's going on. When I reprimand them without even turning around, it becomes silent again, I say something about the eyes in the back of my head, and we continue.




How NOT to play dodgeball in elementary school.

That brings me to another game that involves circles.  Dodgeball.  Elementary school dodgeball is supposed to be nice and is played with soft red balls.  No overhand throwing is allowed and the ball must hit below the belly button (that means below your butt, which is a whole other reason to get a giggle).  The kids in the middle are supposed to be aware of where the balls are (sometimes 2-4 balls at a time can be in play).   The first problem is that the circle that is painted on the blacktop is too big, which results in the second problem:  the concept of "spread out" is completely lost on first graders, which results in huge gaps and clusters of kids, all hoping/not hoping the ball comes to them.  Oh, also, kids are not supposed to run in front of someone to whom the ball is traveling and steal it so said kid can have yet another turn, while the timid kid who just needs a chance gets yet another chance to stand on the sidelines.  When this type of kid finally gets a ball, he/she stands there, holding it for 5 minutes, contemplating who should be tagged, then rolls it ever so carefully and consequently never tags anyone.  The third problem is when your class cannot get these simple rules down.  But as the game progress (if one can call a bunch of kids standing in a some kind of circle throwing balls and running around "progressing"), I realize that it doesn't really matter.  They're all laughing, trying, and having fun while exercising and learning to lose, learning to win, and learning to enjoy playing a game for the sake of playing a game.

There are so many games we play, I can't possibly detail them all, and you wouldn't want to read about every single one anyway, so I will end with BINGO.

Ah, bingo, what would the elementary school teacher do without you?  Students have become masters at creating bingo cards and pretty much know that one word/time/number goes in each box.  Still, there is always someone who asks if he/she should cover the free space (!).  Sometimes they play for a sticker, sometimes for a skittle (yes, one skittle is enough motivation), sometimes a stamp on the hand or "smelly sticker" (just flavored lip balm rubbed on their wrist like perfume), and sometimes for actual prizes. 

Yesterday we spent the afternoon playing Time Bingo.  The day before, they cut and pasted a variety of times (like what you'd see on a digital clock) onto a blank bingo card.  They played for leftover Halloween candy that I've had stashed, which I found the other day.  One child asked, "If we don't get bingo, do we all get a candy at the end?"  I answered, "Well, no, only kids who get bingo get a candy."  He accepted that good-naturedly and went back to his seat.  I, on the other hand, knew that every single one of them would get a prize.  I'm not that mean.  I'd pull a time piece out of my box, display that time on my clock and show it (think of the women in the middle of the boxing ring holding up the card that shows what round they're on-except I wasn't wearing a bare-all bikini), but I didn't say what time the clock was showing.  Nobody asked, nobody looked confused, so I kept going...maybe I taught this better than I thought.  Maybe I'm a awesome teacher!  Woohoo!!!



I showed the clock while they matched to the digital time.

In a little bit, a boy yelled Bingo!  He read off what he had covered and decided on a Tootsie Roll.  We played again, and again, someone yelled Bingo!  and chose a prize.  This was taking too long, so I declared that there will be NO MORE BINGOS UNTIL YOUR WHOLE BOARD IS FILLED.  It's called "blackout" bingo.  Does everyone understand?  Your entire board needs to be covered to get a bingo.  Yes, heads bobbed in affirmation, we understand. 

"Do NOT clear your board, we will just keep going from here." 

I said this at least 3 times.  I noticed that Sandy's board was empty and she looked confused and like she was about to cry.  I sensed an ominous foreboding...so in order to prevent a melt-down, I got her squared away and we continued. 

Someone yelled Bingo!  This person cannot have Bingo yet, as I haven't even filled my board (that I use to keep track of what has been called).  Once again, I smiled, "Your whole board must be completely filled to say bingo."  "Ooooohhhhhh!"  Now they understand.

Five minutes later, several students called bingo! and got a prize, my board is filled and I know that everyone should have said bingo by now.  Little worried faces gazed at me, pleading, because they MUST receive a piece of candy today and they must not be the only ones who lose...ever feel that way?  So.  To play along, I have each one tell me what they have left, I declare that, yes, that was indeed called, so get your candy!  Wow!  Everyone wins!

Shouldn't we all be playing more, working less?  I got to thinking on one of my commutes that if I approach more of life's challenges as a way to win a game, wouldn't it be a whole lot more fun and a whole lot less stressful?  While driving, I play a mental math game and try to estimate, based on driving speed, traffic conditions and prior knowledge what time I will arrive at school.  Driving is a game of cat and mouse, as I don't like when someone is in front of me at a stop light, so as I approach, I try to find a way of getting in front (this is NOT obnoxious at all).  Another favorite is one I play while I'm on Weight Watchers. I treat my food journaling like a game of How Much Food I Can Pack Into 26 Points a Day.  It's even more fun now that I have an iPhone and can do it with an app.

Don't even get me started on Angry Birds (Space is my fave), Draw Something, or Words with Friends (which I am losing)...I have a feeling these are the tip of the iceberg and will someday make their way into my classroom, adapted somehow in a way to get kids to learn. 

The possibilities are endless!

Hmmm...