If we had been keeping score today (and we’re weren’t), the score would have been:
It was a rough day.
However, the kids had no clue. Of course not. They got all of their recesses (no inclement weather here!) and they had their second round of centers, and we did short e Fluency and Fitness, and we read Junie B. and we played hot potato with our new class pet, Oakley, to review the Five Senses that we should have reviewed, oh, I don’t know . . . a week or two ago? And we did some hard math and realized we are all Math Wizards.
I’m just self reflecting on my own day and I’m telling you right now . . . it was rough.
Tomorrow we are going to work on one little thing. Amongst all of the other learning requirements.
Some background: We have no trouble going to our cubbies now. I mean, it’s been a whole month of school. We are good to go with that!
But we are having trouble in another area. And today, well . . . today was bad.
And I am here to tell you all about it. Not to make you think I don’t have classroom management skills (Because I do. I really do! One time, a parent volunteer told me I should present at a workshop on classroom management so you know I believed her, and now I tell everyone I do have classroom management skills).
I tell you this so that you can tell me that the same things are happening to you, and then I can feel better about myself.
Here’s what happened:
When I said, “Clean your floor and stand by your chair” I was actually not speaking in a secret language even though some of my students seemed to think I was. And these same students thought that they understood my secret language and could decode it.
Even though there was no secret language.
But I cannot think of any other thing to explain the phenomenon that happened today when I said, “Clean your floor and stand by your chair.”
I mean, I do get that it’s two-step directions, but we are all capable of following those two steps. Really. We are. Plus, their kinder teachers told me they could.
1. Clean your floor.
In English, it means pick up the scraps and the pencils and the crayons and the ziplock bag and the tiny little Lego Man you brought to school that you shouldn’t have brought in the first place, and get your lunch box, and grab your baseball cap, and get that big, huge, rolling backpack that first graders definitely need to have, seeing as how we have ONE WHOLE HOMEWORK FOLDER and by golly, that folder is heavy, so we must roll it and make the people behind us trip over it because they are not paying attention. Get that big monstrosity, too.
2. Stand by your chair.
In English, it means STAND BY YOUR CHAIR.
I mean, I could be more clear, I guess. Elaborate, if you will.
Keep your legs straight at the knee. Don’t bend them. Keep both feet flat on the floor. Hold yourself upright.
That is called standing.
Now, just do that next to your chair. By your chair. Near your chair.
Clean your floor. Stand by your chair.
HOWEVER . . .
When I said that today, some of my kids seriously thought I was speaking in code.
Because, instead of cleaning their floor and standing by their chair, two kids went to stand by the AC unit to feel the air come out and they talked into it to see if their voices echoed, two kids were suddenly by my side (I wonder if I look like a chair?), one kid tapped on me (the horror!), and four kids tried to show me their work.
I swore to all of them I was not speaking in code.
I think I convinced almost all of them.
But I am afraid for tomorrow.
I am very afraid.
What do you think will happen when I say, “Take out your scissors”?
Yep. Very afraid.