Today, another exciting one! My supervisor randomly came in today and asked me if I wanted to sit in on a kindergarten integrated co-teaching (ICT) class. I said yes, obviously. On the way down, she pulled me over to introduce me to Mr. N, the 5th grade teacher, to ask if I could sit in one of the classes. He said yes and invited me to come tomorrow for their field trip to the Metropolitan Museum of Art—AAAHHH!
So, I walked into the kindergarten class and introduced myself to one of the teachers. Sat at the side for the first half as the teacher taught a math lesson by getting the kids to sketch and look at a giant abacus—I liked the visual tools she was using and letting the kids sketch things on the board. I always get a little anxious in a new environment, so, I was slightly worried about what the kids might think of a stranger in their midst. I’ve noticed this anxiety too, occasionally, in college when I’m in unfamiliar settings and recall feeling it in high school a lot when I enter a room of people I don’t really know. I think I’m always hyperaware of inclusivity—the fear of feeling excluded, the anxiety because I don’t want people to feel obliged to including me, too much thoughts. And I’ve been reflecting a little bit more about this and thought that perhaps that is one of the reasons why I HATE seeing other people being excluded—in any way, shape or form. I’ve always felt very strongly about seeing people, especially kids being singled out, or excluded, or even feeling excluded. I just feel like there is that somewhat deep connection that I have with that that I have never outgrown. Hm. Maybe also why I feel very passionately about things I have been seeing and doing these couple of weeks.
Definitely interesting reactions when you are in a room of 5 to 6-year-olds. I think they’re at the age of not having much of a filter yet and they are still growing out of the phase of being in their own worlds and not really paying attention very much to people around them. So, some of them didn’t even really see me. When they do, they do a double take—their eyes would so happen land on me as they’re shifting their eyes. Having realized that there was something different in their purview, they glance back at me with those investigative and inquisitive eyes, almost as if they were trying to make sense of: 1. How did I magical appear and 2. Who is this person that does not look like my teacher (at least not from what my memory tells me). It’s a split second moment but it reminds me of my cognitive development class when we talk about at what age do facial recognition, abstract to concrete thinking, and memory develop or even how they change. It’s really interesting stuff. I see one kid popping his head up from his seat on the rug, over the book shelf between us, to peep at me almost like he is making sure I am real and to know if I am still there, but making sure I don’t see him doing it. The teacher calls me over finally to introduce myself and I tell them I am Ms. Andrea (still feel a little weird rolling off my tongue) and I was originally helping out in the 4th grade (“Hi, Ms. Andrea,” the kids chant) but they said I could come visit kindergarten today. “Oh, of course! Visitors are always welcome to our class!” Ms. J, the teacher smiles and that look just reminds me of a kind mother. She looks much older than the teachers in my usual class and she definitely looks like a very experienced teacher.
Math lesson is over, Ms. J takes out a song sheet for us to sing along too. “Who’s ready to sing this song?” Ms. J chimes. And all the kids hands shoot up into the air. A red-headed boy is so excited and has two hands up, “I can! I can!” Ms. J points at him, “Oooh, you have two hands up I see.” “YEA! I am SO READY. I have TWO hands up so that means I’m EXTRA READY!!!!” Ms. J laughs heartily and looks over at me, “Ah, now, that’s the difference between 4th grade. You don’t see that in 4th grade.” Then, a kid in-charge of the calendar goes to the front to arrange the little cut-out dates into the pockets that make up the calendar. We do a little stretching to Simon Says as the same red-headed boy turns to me and whispers “VOLCANO!!” as he makes a triangle with his fingers. Another boy also turns back, I smile to him, and he looks back at me not exactly smiling but a little in between, like he was deciding if he should smile or stay in his investigative mode. After going over their duty chart (head cut-outs of the kids’ heads on doll-shaped sticks placed in different pockets labeled eco ambassador, teacher’s helper, and a few others), the kids go to their tables for snack. I shuffle around and try to look like I know what I’m doing. “Can you help me open this?” a boy comes up with a kettle corn packet. Things I like about working in elementary school: that non-existent self-conscious phase of talking or even coming up to people you don’t really know. Puts me at ease.
A girl with curly hair who has been eyeing me stands up and walks to me, “Are you a fourth grade teacher?” Every time I get this question, I hesitate, “Um, yea...Well, I’m helping the fourth grade teachers?” She is unfazed with my hesitation, “Are you in Ms. D’s class?” “Oh, I know Ms. D. But I’m not in her class, though. I’m in Ms. M’s class.” She continues, “My brother is in Ms. D’s class.” “Oh, he is? Maybe I’ll see if I can find him next time.” She gets excited and gives me details so that I get all the info I need, “Yea, his name is A. And…And he has short black hair. And my name is L.” “Oh, that’s cool!” “Yea!” she says happily.
I walk towards a boy who is sweeping the floor before this conversation happens:
Kid 1: Did you know that the oldest person is 115 years old?
Me: Who is it?
Kid 1: He's A HUNDRED AND FIFTEEN years old.
Kid 2: Is it God??
Me: I don't think--
Kid 2: DO YOU KNOW GOD???!!!!!!
Me: Well, I---
Kid 3: That's not God. God is (spreads arms very wide) THE UNIVERSE. He's infinite! NO. NUMBER.
Kid 1: Yea, he's everywhere...in all of us.
Kid 3: (laughs) In all of us?
Kid 2: Yea...little pieces in all of us.
Kid 3: No, he's not. (pauses) ...little pieces?…like in our minds?
Kid 2: Nah, he can't be.
Me: Hm. You never know.....he may be in your hearts too.
Kid 3: (puts hand over chest and looks at it) Our hearts?
Kid 2: GOD'S IN LITTLE PIECES IN ALL OUR HEARTS!!!!!!
Sigh. One of those moments when I think that what better place could I ever be.
Kid 3: Do you know why we have brown hair?
Me: How?
Kid 3: Coz God took our poo poo and put it in our hair.
Me: WHAT?!
Kid 3: Yup. That’s why.
(1 minute later)
Kid 3: Do you know why we have yellow hair?
Me: No... Why?
Kid 3: Coz God put it there.
Me: Ooh, God put it there?
Kid 3: Yup.
Me: How did he put it there?
Kid 3: God put it there. He took yellow snow and put it on hair.
Me: Yellow snow?! Um, I don’t know. I don’t think he used yellow snow.
Kid 3: Yea, he did.
Kid 1: What’s yellow snow?
Me: Well…it’s…snow...that’s yellow. (thinks about how to break it to the kid)
You know how they always say don’t eat yellow snow?
Kid 1: Yea, I know. But why?
Me: Well, coz there’s something in it that’s a little dirty.
Kid 1: What's in it?
And the conversation was cut short by kids having to pack up and line up to head to the gym for P.E. As they lined up, another girl came up to me to ask if I could help her open her snack container. Then, another girl pointed at the digital watch I was wearing, “I like your watch.” “Oh, thanks.” “What are all the buttons for?” “Well, one of them lights up the watch,” I press it and semi-cover my watch to show how it glows in the dark. Her eyes widen, “Wow.” And out of nowhere, the red-headed boy comes close to my body and touches my tummy, he pats it all the way to my back, as if finding a comfy position to rest his encircled arms around my waist, rests his head on my tummy,
and hugs me. out of nowhere.
Did he really mean to do that? Did he get the right person? I think he is mistaken, so, I let it slide. But just as the teacher is getting everyone in line and I stand by the side of the line, it happens again. Somehow, this little red-headed boy finds his hands and little body just like the first time, as if it was nothing out of his ordinary day, and gives me a soft, pudgy hug, not letting go.
And I hug him back. And we just stay there for a few seconds.
And I am just a big puddle of rainbow, unicorn, and hot chocolate kind of mess.
*
How do kids do that? How do they just come up to you
and just hug you
and make you feel
like the best thing in the world?
Sigh. That was my day, guys. My day.
Unbelievable.
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