The Power of Persuasion

"Move your feet!  Move your feet!  Move your feet!"

BANG!  Bang!  Bang! (The sound of a wooden block being slammed into the heel of a five year old by another)

"I need your big block for my fort.  We are building a wall so the robbers won't get the money in the bank."

The growing feud is gaining steam as I hear "Don't let him see."  from the other side of the room.  Him being ME.  Mmm Hmmm. This always will get my attention no matter what near death experience is unfolding in the block center.

I whipped around to see a student flashing his i-touch around to a few peers.  My swift movement to see goes unnoticed by the growing group of five year olds who are in awe of a peer who not only has an i-touch, but that this very peer actually dared bring it to school AND is whipping it out during class time.  In an instant this young boy emerges as an idol to all of his peers and he doesn't even know it.  He will be the guy in high school who has the ladies swooning because of his audacity.

Normally I would have whipped out my "Oh, I am so disappointed." and "Oh, what would your mum and dad say if they knew you had that here?" speeches. Today seemed like it called for a more caring teacher response.  So, I waited a while and sidled up next to the i-touch wielding five year old.  I crunched down on my knees as he worked on a computer in the school computer lab and just asked the following...

1. Me: "Hey, Love your work here."  (pointing to the typing he had done on the screen.)- BIG pause ".......Are you lucky enough to have an i-phone or i-touch at home?"

Student: "Mmm Hmmm." - No eyes are taken off of the computer monitor.  So, he must not yet realize that I have seen his prized possession in the school house.

2. Me: "Do you have it here at school?" Casually dropping this pointed question while smiling.

Student: "Mmmm Hmmm." This time slowly turning to meet me face to face.  I can only imagine he is wondering what on earth I am going to say or do now.

3. Me: "Would it bother you if it got stepped on by someone else in our class?"

Student: "Mmm Hmmm"

4. Me: "Would it bother you if it was lost or if someone took it?"

Student: Now with his hands in his lap, head cocked sideways and peering straight into my eyes, "Yes."

5. Me: "Oh, OK. Just wondered what you thought about those things so that you can decide if you want to bring it back tomorrow or not." (Me standing up to walk away.)

Student: "I'm gonna keep it at home tomorrow."

Me: Smiling as I walk away thinking, Man, this job is too good! - I love it that you can actually sort of reason with someone without having to lecture."

Spending the day with 5 and 6 year olds really is good.... I wish this kind of stuff would work on adults~

Housekeeping

Do you remember the wooden kitchens in Kindergarten back when you were a student?  You know….The refrigerator, stove, sink and mini table with chairs that were pale colored wood; perhaps oak or maybe even made from pine.  They typically had bright red plastic knobs and handles.  Yes, well, my Kindergarten class is no exception to the rule of hosting a make believe kitchen center.  Although I admit that I have whittled this center down to the bare bones.  I ditched the refrigerator and managed to “reassign” the table and chairs to the storage shed just outside of my classroom.  This once glorious forum for dramatic play has been squeezed into a four foot square section of my classroom.  It resembles more of a galley kitchen as the kids have to almost stand sideways to squeeze between the stove and sink that face each other giving it this “galley” feel.  Yet, they are still drawn to this center in droves. (Isn’t it always true that whatever you don’t want kids to want, they desire like nothing else.)

There is a girl assigned to my class this year who is the queen of the Housekeeping Center.  She is quick to assign roles for anyone who stumbles into the kitchen.  (Well, stumble isn’t really the word here.  It is more like whomever can slide in sideways between the stove and sink.  The doors to the “oven” can’t be opened unless everyone steps two steps to the side exiting the kitchen to you can “pop” something into the oven.)  In the fall this girl was quick to let me know that we didn’t have any baby dolls in the kitchen.  Apparently these are a staple for dramatic play in the Housekeeping Center.  She reminded and begged me to get some babies for the center.  When I didn’t she managed to talk her mum into letting her bring three baby dolls to Kindergarten to “donate” to the class. Then came the requests for a baby carriage and/or a baby bed.  Neither of which I wanted given that the kitchen was already built on a stick budget since I had “reassigned” the refrigerator and dining set to the storage shed.

One afternoon in the fall  I happened to hear her announce to the “husband”, “grandmother” and “dog” that she was about to give birth and that she needed to be rushed to the hospital.  She instructed grandma to stay home and look after the dog, who when I looked over was gnawing on a plastic toy orange.  Off they flew (mum and dad) to the hospital (a.k.a. – The floor area underneath the table that housed the classroom computers) to “give birth”.  I watched as this girl shoved one of the three babies up her shirt and told the papa to “hold her hand” because she didn’t know if she would make it in time.  I assumed she meant make it to the makeshift hospital under the computer table.

 By now I had stopped working with my small reading group and turned my full attention to watching this soon to be miracle of life unfold before me.  Aside from the comedy of it all, I was most curious to know what she knew about having a baby.  What’s more?  I needed to see what her peers might learn from her and what misinformation might be shared.  Why? So that when the phone rang the next morning with the parent of one of the other “family” members in the housekeeping center I would be able to have a clear understanding of the chain of events.  I needed to be able to explain what transpired that lead to their new learning about the starting of a new life.

There, under the computer table “baby” was born.  Maybe born is a bit gentle for what really happened.  The dad became the doctor.  (I love that about dramatic play.  Kids change roles when the situation calls for it.  I wish real life were like that sometimes.)  The dad, now doctor, yanked that baby out from under her shirt and flipped it over onto his knee and started “spanking” the baby on the bottom.  He announced, “You gotta spank ‘em when they come out so they will cry or else they won’t make it!” – Hmmmmm – Interesting.

Then the family who was ordered to “stay at home” during the birth rushed to the hospital to take a look at the new baby. Well, rushed might be an understatement.  It was all of one step from the galley kitchen to the make-shift hospital under the computer table.  Of course, the two students on the computers had halted their technological work and bent their necks so they could see what was going on under the table so as not to miss anything, but not giving up their seats so as not to lose their turn in the very coveted computer center.

The funny thing about this story is that it happened like this, like clockwork, every day for the next two weeks.  This child would give birth daily and sure enough there was make-shift families of her peers there to assist, watch and play along.  Though often the family changed from day to day, one thing was for sure.  This child was ALWAYS the mum and gave birth daily.

It made me wonder…..What might it be like to change the members of my family.  Or, at the very least, change the one or two in my family who really aren’t much fun…..

Kindergarten Goes for a Swim~

There are times when alarming things happen in Kindergarten.  Take for example the following...

When I taught in the Midwest every grade level in my elementary school would go swimming at the local pool on one of the final days of school.  This was always wildly popular with students.

A colleague of mine told me that she explained to her kids that the boys would change into their swimming suits in their classroom with the blinds closed and the girls would change in their swim suits in the classroom next door .  She reported that once the explanation was complete one boy belted out, "I can't wait to see YOU naked!" as he pointed to a peer in his classroom!

Mmm Hmmm.. My jaw dropped open when I heard it too.

Ahhh, let's all wait to be checking each other out when we are naked until we are adults.  OK?

Full Blast~

When I taught in Iowa there were days when you peeled your shirt away from your skin mid-morning due to the humidity and lack of air conditioning in the school house. It was unpleasant to say the least. A curtain of perspiration was common-place on the forehead of all staff members and students.  You just got used to it, though you never stopped complaining about it.

I remember a spunky blonde headed youngster assigned to my tutelage one year.  He just couldn’t resist putting his face in the box fans that were strategically placed around the room. I pointed them in a circle to help create a vortex.  This vortex was really more like a loud whooshing sound that drowned out the instruction. The kids seemed to like that part.

There were times this boy would shove a pencil through the fan grill just to see what would happen.  He, along with anyone else who saw him would shudder when the pencil was slammed up against the whirling blades ripping the pencil to shreds.  Still, it was great fun to be five and challenge machinery that could remove a finger in one fell swoop. This trick was repeated at least a dozen times that year.  Most kids who bore witness to the destruction the first time were cured of any further desire to shove things into the whirling machine. Though there was always someone willing to temp fate and shove a pencil or any other small items at arms length in to the whirling wonder machine when I wasn’t looking.

I had given countless “speeches” in my best teacher voice trying to drive home the importance of safety with electric fans to no avail.

Perhaps the most entertaining sport with the whirling fans for five year olds was to talk into the fan as it was on high speed.  It puts off an echo that makes your voice sound amazingly humorous.  If you haven’t tried it, do it today!   It wasn’t uncommon to hear two or three girls with their faces plastered to the grill singing a song and having it echo back into the room sounding much better than it ever would if they sang on their own without any electric appliance providing support.

So, the fall marched on and the hot days stayed steady.  The pencil shoving boy would bounce in from recess a dripping mop and start clapping and chanting, “FULL BLAST!  FULL BLAST!  FULL BLAST!  FULL BLAST!”  The claps were in sync with the chanting.  He would dance around one of the fans while chanting. (You must be thinking I have no classroom management as you read this.)  He would always reach for the knob and crank the fan up to high speed and then promptly plop himself on the floor in front of it and howl into the fan creating an uninvited concert for his classmates, who of course found this to be wildly funny.  I, of course, did not.

I learned a trick that year.  One HOT afternoon I managed to pry the selector knob off with a pair of pliers.  Viola!  My dancing, singling, sweating five year olds could no longer hold the class captive with their singing or pencil shredding.

Pliers: they aren’t just for changing the channel on your old analog Television set that the knobs fell off of.  (Familiar to any of you?)

Just Keep it Standing~

Not too long ago a colleague told me about her divorce which transpired over twenty years ago.  At the time she was worried about being able to afford staying in her home, the upkeep and unforeseen expenses that crop up with home ownership.  She told me the best advice she received from a friend at the time of the divorce in regard to her home was to “Just Keep it Standing.”

While the advice was applied to my colleague’s fear of managing a home independently I look back on my own life and recall situations that I could have used a mantra such as “Just Keep it Standing.”  “It” being whatever is under tremendous pressure to survive and thrive. One time in particular I was the “it” that needed to be kept standing.  There was a time when I was blue beyond comparison. I am not man enough to lay out the situation that brought about this peculiar and unwelcome intense feeling that ripped the life out of me.  So, just think in general terms. Further, I know men aren’t supposed to talk about feeling blue. Wait!  Perhaps a strong case could be made that I am not even a man, but just for the sake of discussion…  Have you ever had the blues with deafening intensity?  This is the kind where your body and heart ache and you can’t see the forest because of the trees (and wouldn’t it be nice to read something, just once, where the writer had a better analogy than some old saying that has been around for a million years?  Yah, I think so too.) 

During the height of the blues it was almost as if I had to remind myself to breathe. (Sounds impossible, eh?) I would catch myself in the exhaled position and then gasp a bit to take in a breath because I was so consumed with sadness that it was as if my body didn’t remember to keep that involuntary act going on its own. 

Looking back I can see that I employed many strategies to “Just Keep it Standing,”  though I didn’t know that’s what I was doing. –

It happens in an instant, or so it seems.  My gregarious exterior simply turned itself off.  Gone, vanished, vamoose, in-hiding, on hiatus, nowhere to be found.  “Just Keep it Standing.” 

Sleep becomes your greatest friend, comfort and past-time.  “Just Keep it Standing.” 

 You smile trying to fake yourself out.  (Never been a fan of Fake it ‘till You Make It.  Probably because I can get consumed in the here and now and can’t remove myself from the intensity of a situation to even entertain such a venture.)  “Just Keep it Standing.” 

You long for someone to step in and take over….anyone…. (Well, not anyone.  I mean, I wouldn’t want the bus driver on the Seattle 358 route to take over for me, but someone who is trustworthy that you know…) ….You just need someone to pick up where you left off and carry you without having to explain…..Someone who can run the day-to-day routines of your life. Sometimes they come, which is a relief, but what if you don’t accept the help they offer because of pride?  How can you “Just Keep it Standing”? – You can’t.

When the pain seems greater than you can manage this one piece of advice seems to bring focus to the situation.  “Just Keep it Standing.” If you can somehow remind yourself to just do what it takes to make it through the next day…. hour….. minutes… then you will have employed this strategy.  Though the whole of the situation may seem greater than you could even imagine all you really have to do is...... “Just Keep it Standing.”

NEW Office Supplies

Kids love office supplies.  Not just any office supplies, but NEW office supplies.  If there are new pocket folders, spiral notebooks, crayons, markers, pens, Scotch Tape (TM), paint brushes, or even plain index cards.  Is it that they are wired to be drawn to these marvelous products? Or is it that they just want to be the FIRST to use something that is new so they can LORD over their peers with the power that comes with the knowledge that "I was first to use the _______."  I believe a strong case could be made for the later.  Further, I think we would have NO problem convincing any jury this side of the Mississippi River that it is so.

So, what has me thinking of office supplies and how they impact five year olds? I shoved a box of file folders on the top shelf out of reach of anyone younger than 18.  Anything above 3 feet is usually a safe bet for this, unless they can maneuver a chair to extend their reaching ability. 

A student who saw me stash the set of file folders asked me what I was doing.  I replied, "I am putting these "up"."  Putting things "up" has long been the polite way of saying, "I am putting these out of your reach because I want them for myself and/or I don't trust you to use them appropriately."

The student asked, "What are we going to use them for?"  Funny how he said, "WE"  What are WE going to use them for?  That is an endearing thing about five year olds.  They are sure to include themselves in anything that may have even the most remote possibility of them getting to be "in the know".

I replied, "I don't know yet. I will figure something out."

His reply?  "We never know what is going on around here with you," as he turned and walked back to work.

Maybe there is some truth to that.  Do these five year olds all feel like they don't know what is going on around here with me?  Do I project disorganization?  No Wait!  I know what it is...... I like to be in control.  The problem is when I have to resort to being mysterious with five year olds to experience this feeling~

I Have the Man Teacher

On the first day of Kindergarten some years ago a five year old stumbled off the bus and burst into tears.  He was intercepted by a colleague of mine.

As I whipped things into shape in the classroom preparing for the arrival of the kids I heard sobbing that was slightly alarming.  As a teacher in an elementary school I have bore witness  to hundreds of kids crying for some reason or another.  So, I am a good judge of what type of crying merits attention and what type of crying is simply a release of frustration.  This was a full on, "Get me the hell out of here" kind of a cry.

The cry grew louder, but never dissipated. When you hear one of our youth crying, as a teacher you wait for the wailing to begin to dissipate as the child makes his or her way to their respective classroom.  This crying just lingered near my room. This could only mean one thing.  The crying five year old was assigned to my tutelage.  This was true.  My colleague escorted this one in and motioned for me to come to the door.  She said, "This is Morgan."

"Hi Morgan!" is what I spat out in my most friendly you are going to love Kindergarten voice, even though I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt he was not interested in hanging out in Kindergarten any longer than two seconds.

My colleague said to me, "I found him getting off the bus, unsure of where to go.  When I asked him who his teacher was he said, (in a crying/yelling type of voice).............. "I HAVE THE MAN TEACHER!"