Parting Shot
On Thursdays, I volunteer in the first grade classroom with math centers. I did the same when Aaron was in first grade. At that time, Melina was three years old. She stepped into the role of helper and learned some math to boot. Now, I go into the classroom by myself, as my sidekick is a part of the class. Which means I have no one but myself to help against any crimes that might be committed by the first graders.
Yesterday's incident was a perfect example of what I see on a weekly basis:
Mrs. W split the class into small groups. One of those groups meandered my way. I began to spread out the materials the children would need for the activity. "Okay guys," I said. "Here are the dice." I placed a die onto the carpet for each pair of children, and then prepared to explain how to play the game.
"Uh, Mrs. C. He just called you poopy-pants," a little spectacled first-grader said. "C said 'Ooookaaaaay Mrs. Poopy-pants!' when you handed out the dice."
Within an instant, I felt my face turn into a mask of slight disapproval, and I forced my voice to remain low and calm. Our school encourages good SPIRIT in the kids (Success, Pride, Integrity, Respect, Involvement, and Teamwork). Had the child called Mrs. W "Mrs. Poopy-pants" I know she would not have tolerated the action.
"First off--" I looked at the child who told me."You are tattling." The kid's face fell, but that child consistently tattles. By yesterday, I'd had enough of that behavior. "And secondly," I turned toward the other child, "Did you say those words? Be honest. Did you?"
The child hesitated for a moment. I looked into his eyes. I really wasn't mad, but inside my head, a few different words bounced around. I GET ENOUGH OF THIS EXCREMENT TALK AT HOME. DO I REALLY NEED TO COME INTO SCHOOL AND HAVE YOU SPEAK LIKE THAT? WHAT ARE YOU, A FIRST-GRADE BOY?
The child swallowed his lie and admitted to calling me Poopy-pants. I had to give him credit for being honest, so I thanked him, and told him I forgave him. I then swallowed the next words that perched on my lips: SIT YOUR BUM DOWN, PLAY THE GAME, AND STOP FOOLING AROUND, YOU LITTLE PIECE OF POOP!
A few seconds later, that same child (who I will now call Mr. Poopy-pants) started making tooting noises. Now, let me say this. We were supposed to be working on Tic-Tac-Ten, which as you probably can surmise is very much like Tic-Tac-Toe. This child had no business other than rolling the dice, writing down a number, and trying to get three numbers in a row that would add to ten. I understand that first-graders might not be able to sit still for 20 minutes while we perform the activity. So I could see if Mr. Poopy-pants might have to adjust his body a little, or move his legs out to make him feel better. But we'd just started the activity, and standing and sticking your bum out in the direction of a classmate all while tooting with your mouth? Not going to happen on my watch.
In slow motion, I turned my face toward Mr. Poopy Pants and gazed directly into his eyes. He froze. WHAT IN THE HECK IS WRONG WITH YOU? I wondered. "Please stop," I said. "That's not appropriate behavior."
Five minutes later, Mr. Poopy-pants was at it again. There was no counting to ten. It's like he just couldn't perform that task. For some reason, he needed to pretend like he'd had beans for lunch. Some toot jokes can be funny. This...this just wasn't. I was tired of telling him to stop. I wanted the kids to learn, and he was being disrespectful. WHAT IN THE WORLD ARE YOU THINKING? TALK ABOUT RESPECT. DO YOU DO THIS AT HOME? WHAT SORT OF PARENTS DO YOU HAVE? JUST SIT DOWN YOU $%#%^&! But I'm old enough to filter myself, so again, I simply asked him to stop. I emphasized that his behavior was disrespectful. I hoped that we could go on and learn something in the few minutes we had left.
I have to be honest, Mr. Poopy-pants didn't interrupt me again before our time was up. But as he left the group to move onto the next activity, I looked down at the card he'd been using. At the top, where a number should have been written, was the word, BERP. A fantastic, yet misspelled, parting shot.
Yesterday's incident was a perfect example of what I see on a weekly basis:
Mrs. W split the class into small groups. One of those groups meandered my way. I began to spread out the materials the children would need for the activity. "Okay guys," I said. "Here are the dice." I placed a die onto the carpet for each pair of children, and then prepared to explain how to play the game.
"Uh, Mrs. C. He just called you poopy-pants," a little spectacled first-grader said. "C said 'Ooookaaaaay Mrs. Poopy-pants!' when you handed out the dice."
Within an instant, I felt my face turn into a mask of slight disapproval, and I forced my voice to remain low and calm. Our school encourages good SPIRIT in the kids (Success, Pride, Integrity, Respect, Involvement, and Teamwork). Had the child called Mrs. W "Mrs. Poopy-pants" I know she would not have tolerated the action.
"First off--" I looked at the child who told me."You are tattling." The kid's face fell, but that child consistently tattles. By yesterday, I'd had enough of that behavior. "And secondly," I turned toward the other child, "Did you say those words? Be honest. Did you?"
The child hesitated for a moment. I looked into his eyes. I really wasn't mad, but inside my head, a few different words bounced around. I GET ENOUGH OF THIS EXCREMENT TALK AT HOME. DO I REALLY NEED TO COME INTO SCHOOL AND HAVE YOU SPEAK LIKE THAT? WHAT ARE YOU, A FIRST-GRADE BOY?
The child swallowed his lie and admitted to calling me Poopy-pants. I had to give him credit for being honest, so I thanked him, and told him I forgave him. I then swallowed the next words that perched on my lips: SIT YOUR BUM DOWN, PLAY THE GAME, AND STOP FOOLING AROUND, YOU LITTLE PIECE OF POOP!
A few seconds later, that same child (who I will now call Mr. Poopy-pants) started making tooting noises. Now, let me say this. We were supposed to be working on Tic-Tac-Ten, which as you probably can surmise is very much like Tic-Tac-Toe. This child had no business other than rolling the dice, writing down a number, and trying to get three numbers in a row that would add to ten. I understand that first-graders might not be able to sit still for 20 minutes while we perform the activity. So I could see if Mr. Poopy-pants might have to adjust his body a little, or move his legs out to make him feel better. But we'd just started the activity, and standing and sticking your bum out in the direction of a classmate all while tooting with your mouth? Not going to happen on my watch.
In slow motion, I turned my face toward Mr. Poopy Pants and gazed directly into his eyes. He froze. WHAT IN THE HECK IS WRONG WITH YOU? I wondered. "Please stop," I said. "That's not appropriate behavior."
Five minutes later, Mr. Poopy-pants was at it again. There was no counting to ten. It's like he just couldn't perform that task. For some reason, he needed to pretend like he'd had beans for lunch. Some toot jokes can be funny. This...this just wasn't. I was tired of telling him to stop. I wanted the kids to learn, and he was being disrespectful. WHAT IN THE WORLD ARE YOU THINKING? TALK ABOUT RESPECT. DO YOU DO THIS AT HOME? WHAT SORT OF PARENTS DO YOU HAVE? JUST SIT DOWN YOU $%#%^&! But I'm old enough to filter myself, so again, I simply asked him to stop. I emphasized that his behavior was disrespectful. I hoped that we could go on and learn something in the few minutes we had left.
I have to be honest, Mr. Poopy-pants didn't interrupt me again before our time was up. But as he left the group to move onto the next activity, I looked down at the card he'd been using. At the top, where a number should have been written, was the word, BERP. A fantastic, yet misspelled, parting shot.
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