A Teacher's Reflections

Teachers need to connect with children.  That’s a given.  The smiles, hugs, and laughing are always the foundation for developing relationships with children.

While these positive interactions are the most common, sometimes unexpected moments – bad moments – can become the greatest connection with children.  Really.

It happened like this:

The story begins at lunchtime, when we eat together like a family and talk about everything.  The conversation came up about not getting something you wanted.  I told the children the same thing happened to me; I desperately wanted a pink Princess Telephone.  My friend Becky Evans had one, but I never got one.  I had to show children pictures of a pink Princess Telephone on Google.  They were fascinated.

After lunch it was clean-up time.  Everyone knows I spill everything, knock over everything.  That in itself has always been a connection, because to children it makes me ‘real’, just like them.  They know I understand.

Children enjoy using the electric floor sweeper.  They were finished, and I ‘helped’ to upright the tall arm.  It snapped right off.  I held up the arm, separated from the machine.  You could have heard a pin drop.

I went into my dramatic “Oh no!  How did this happen?  I didn’t do anything!  I’m so sorry!” with a voice, tears, and faces.  Foot stomping was there, too.  Drama + a scene of broken disaster = a golden opportunity to become one with children.  I was in the zone.

My fellow teachers rushed over.  I told them it was probably fine, and the arm would snap right back on.  Everyone watched.  It did not snap back on.  It broke off even more parts.  I was upset at myself.  Children were in shock.  My fellow teacher said,

“If you feel you need to roar
take a breath and count to four.”

Everyone watched as I did just that.  I felt better.  What a great lesson for children.  Things were back to normal.

At rest time, the children who don’t sleep often come over for snuggles or conversation.  Penny asked to see the Princess Phone image again on my phone.  In the quiet dark, I turned on my phone and found the image on Amazon.  There were so many Princess Phones!  we scrolled through, and other children came over to join us.  It was a focused cluster.

Children learned to read the words ‘sold out’, and they learned  most were too expensive.  They asked for certain colors, so we searched, and again most were sold out or too expensive.  Yilong really wanted red.  Christian really wanted blue.  I really wanted the pink I’d longed for as a child, but it was either too expensive or sold out.  Penny must have sensed my disappointment.  She said,

“Jennie, if you feel you need to roar
take a breath and count to four.”

I did, and I hugged her.  This was real connecting.  Real!

We kept looking, and found a phone.  It was (sort of) affordable.  By now I had at least six children pressed against me, in the dark, hovering over the photos on my phone.

“Penny, look, there’s one we can afford.  But, if we get the phone, you’ll have to learn how to use it.”  I explained using your finger to dial each number all the way around to the end.  I told them it’s called a rotary dial phone.

Blank faces.

“Okay, I have a phone at home with a rotary dial.  I’ll bring it to school and everyone can practice.  When you learn how to do it we’ll get the Princess Phone.”

The shouts of ‘hooray’ woke up the other children, and everyone smiled.  Little do they know using a rotary dial phone is an excellent fine motor skill, and will help develop hand muscles.  Perfect for improving writing.  Win-Win.

Jennie