I’m working in a class with six and seven year olds this week. We’re putting together a mystery and we’re giving them clues to solve that will lead to them creating a story to act out and share. On Monday, a man in a black hat came in and delivered a “package” that he wanted them to take care of. This ramped up energy in the room from normal six and seven year old chaos to hyper squealing and speculation.
Yesterday, we were discussing the mystery man in the black hat that had given them a box containing “jewels.” The group came to the conclusion that the man was a criminal and that he gave them, the Dragon Detectives, the jewels so that the police would think they were the guilty ones. It was all kinds of chaos as they were speculating what should happen next until one kid piped up and said, “If I go to prison, I’m going to need my friends dad to go with me. He’s my Boy Scout leader and he is a prison guard.” My co-teacher and I looked at each other. This could go badly really quickly. She stuttered, trying to form a response. I just started laughing. And then a girl said in a traumatized voice, “OH! I’ll have to wear those horrible jumpsuits!” By this point, I was hiding behind my notes and crying. My co-teacher and I could no longer make eye contact. She did a better job of keeping it together but only just slightly. The craziness continued. My co-teacher was trying to get them to quiet down and actually come up with a story. It was at this point that our dear opinionated, overly sure, WAY overly educated seven-year-olds voice pierced through the cacophony. “I don’t want to go to prison because of the food. They only give you TWO vanilla Oreos with a drink they call kidney killer!!!! AND you only get a sandwich with ONLY turkey and mustard!” I was a mess. Tears running down my face. My co-teacher wasn’t doing much better. Thankfully seven year olds are great at talking over themselves and didn’t seem to notice the absence of adult commentary while they argued about PRISON and what it did and didn’t offer. Later, I was sharing this story with another teacher who had a younger class of students. She had been working with them on making turtles out of construction paper for their story when one boy asked her in earnest, “Can I put a penis on my turtle?” She didn’t think she’d heard him right. “Sorry. A what?” “A penis.” Again, she was unsure. Did the six year old really just ask her if he could put a penis on his turtle? “What did you say?” “Can I put a penis on my turtle.” This went on for a while. She just couldn’t come to terms that he was really asking about putting a penis on his turtle. She kept trying to figure out what word he might really be saying that sounded like penis. Finally, she had to admit that it was indeed what he was asking and respond. “No. Our turtles have a head and four legs and a tail, thank you.” And that, my friends was Tuesday. We have three days left of this group. I’m not sure what educational gems today will bring me. I’m not sure I’m going to make it through any of it with a straight face and definitely not with my dignity intact. I mean, ONLY two vanilla Oreos? What is the world coming to? Also, I’m not entirely sure where a penis on the turtle is supposed to go. At least not a sure as that six year old was about where one should be.
2 Comments
Q.D
3/28/2015 06:21:01 pm
I teach high school yet the gems still happen (Year 7 told me they would help me be organised when I lost my laptop in the classroom), but they are much more aware.
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ej
3/29/2015 01:53:03 pm
Oh, holy hell, Q.D. I could not deal with high school full time again. I directed at my old high school for a year and it was a nightmare of hormones from them and flash backs from me. Not pleasant! I bow to your awesomeness.
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AuthorMy name is ej. I'm a girl. I say that because with the short hair and the short initials, folks aren't always sure. More brilliant insights to who I am in About me Archives
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