Making Work Fun . . .

This week has been particularly challenging. The temperatures here in Minnesota have hovered around 0 degrees with wind chills of up to 25 below. Each morning as I watch the weather forecast, I feel like calling in sick simply because I don't want to face the reality of the wind blasting coldness. I am fighting an ongoing struggle to stay positive and joyful about my job and the tasks that go along with it, specifically, walking little people to and from different buildings with scarves whipping their faces, hats blowing off, stinging winds assaulting us all.

I feel about ready to break. We use a countdown system so students know how much time they have left to get ready. We use singing, chants, and still, everyday before walking outside, it feels like a small battle, a battle that happens three times a day. But this week I have also learned not to take myself so seriously. In those moments when the children just will not put on their winter things to go outside, I take a deep breath, even leave the room. "They are five years' old" I tell myself. "It's not a big deal."  Next, I focus on helping one student at a time.

I have also discovered that if I can turn the more difficult tasks into a fun game, the task becomes more manageable, enjoyable even. One place where I have started to use this strategy is in the lunchroom. Right before we leave to head back to the other building, I supervise the line of Kindergarten students until they are all in the line ready to go. Previously, the students would lean against the wall and then lose their balance and fall on one another, much like cascading dominoes. It was quite frustrating and yelling at them did not help. Then one day, I had an epiphany: "What if I gave them all a task they could do that would distract them?" So I started playing "Do what I Do" also known as "Follow the Leader" with them. This game is simple. If I touch my knees, they have to touch their knees. If I tap my head, they tap their head. And so on. The game was an immediate success!

The following day, the game was also a success. The third day, I decided to spice it up a bit. Instead of playing "Do what I Do" we sang "If you're happy and you know it." This also worked fairly well, although was not quite as controlled or quiet as the "Do what I Do" game. Either way, it makes me happy that I no longer have to dread this moment in the lunchroom where I previously felt perpetual annoyance at the students. Furthermore, they love it, and they are being safe.

Now, if only I could find a similar solution for the sub-zero weather we are having. Maybe on days where the temperature is below zero, I buy fancy coffee on my way to work. Now there's a thought! At this point, any little perk in these cold Winter days is greatly appreciated, necessary even.

Conversations with Kindergarteners: the new Rock Star look

The Kindergarten students have been at it again, saying adoreable things all month long. This week, however, was actually pretty tiring though due to the newly fallen snow and the additional time it takes the students to get ready whenever we go outside(cue 20 minutes of zipping up coats, tugging on mittens, and wrapping scarves tight around little noses.) It has tried my patience a bit; I get upset when the little ones just use the time as social hour and chat happily by their cubbies without actually doing anything to get ready. However, deep breaths and random, made-up songs help me stay calm(er).

But all frustration aside, this week has also had its gem moments. The other day, we were sitting on the floor in small groups and one student who was standing up (at an angle looking down at my head) said, "Teacher, why do you have white in your hair."
Another student chimed in, "Are you trying to be a rock star?"
"How did you know?" I asked as I looked at her with big, surprised eyes. "I'll let you all look at the colors in my hair once we finish sharing our stories." (I think it's time to touch up those roots.)

During breakfast time, one student came up to me and said "Angie called me Nasty."
I went over to Angie with stern eyes and said, "Angie-- is that true?"
 Angie looked at me with a concerned face and said, "No, I said 'You're so cute.'"
Quick thinking Angie. However, I knew that Angie had likely said these words, so I did talk to her more about using nice, kind words.

This week, a few students had to get some extra practice walking in line outside. I had a group of four students and we walked past a teacher from our school.
"I like Ms. Bender" said one student after we had passed her.
Another student chirped in, "I like Ms. Johnson.
The third student responded, "I like ice cream."

At lunch time, we eat with the students at their tables and supervise them. By this time, I have just finished the intense activities of helping them get all their winter things on, and herded them in their line order to lunch. I have also made sure that everyone at our table has a chair, silverware, and milk. By the time I finally sit down in my own chair to begin eating, I am exhausted and extremely hungry. I inhale my food quickly. However, the students are quite chatty and want to discuss what they are eating and wether or not they like it. One particular boy (who may just be my favorite) needs a lot of affirmation. He also really likes saying my name. But sometimes, I just ignore him so I can eat my food. The other day at the table, I heard a sing-songy voice say, "Mrs. Tebandeke, you're not listening."
 I looked up at him, shook myself out of the funk, and said "Oh, oh sorry. I'm listening now Abdullahi."
"This corn dog is really good."
"Oh, I'm glad you like it."

Conversations with Kindergarteners: the new F word

This year's class of Kindergarteners likes to give lots of hugs and specializes in spontaneous chanting and singing.  It seems that on cue, the entire line will start singing "This Land is Your Land, this land is mine land" except they don't quite have the words down so it sounds something like, "This hand is your hand."

They are also incredibly sweet. They constantly give us notes that say, "I love you" or whisper in our ears, "you are the best teacher ever." One girl loves to give compliments. She will often compliment three different things that I am wearing all in one breath.

Today in class, our water was turned off in the entire building so instead of washing hands before lunch, we used hand sanitizer. One girl rubbed in the sanitizer, held her hands up to smell them and said, "This smells like . . like Love."

Yesterday, while coming in from the playground. One boy told me, "Abdullah said the "F" word."
"What is the "F" word Abdullah," I asked the other boy.
"Facebook," he replied.

One of the cutest boys in our class often needs help zipping up his jacket. The other day as I was zipping up his jacket, I said to him with a semi-serious face: "Why am I doing your job for you? I don't like doing other people's jobs."
He smiled, then laughed, then got very serious.
"Mrs. Tebandeke, don't be so silly. It hurts my heart when I laugh."

At the playground a few weeks ago, the little Urkel student from Kindergarten last year came over and said, "Look at this rock I found. I think it is from 1982, the same year as my Grandfather's birth."

  "I was born in 1982" I responded to the student.

  "I mean his death. Yes, this rock is from 1982, the same year as my Grandfather's death. But there is only one way to know for sure. I will hit this rock against this cement, and if the rock does not break apart, I will know it's from 1982."

(Student starts striking the rock vigorously against the cement.)

"Yep, just as I thought. 1982."

There is seldom a day, when my heart is not lightened after working with this group of Kindergarten students. They are so genuine, so well-behaved, so eager to learn. I truly feel blessed, and I need to keep being thankful for these blessings. 

Life with Kindergarteners

This year, we have a new batch of Kindergarten students. They are bright-eyed and only naughty occasionally, when they sense their teachers are having a moment of weakness.

The other day, we went to an apple orchard. It was a cute, enchanted little farm with big trees overhanging the windy driveway up to the main yard. Once there, we went on a big wagon ride pulled by a John Deere tractor. The driver let us all out in the middle of the apple orchard, and the students each got to pick two apples. Everyone happily ate their apples on the way back to the farm.

Once at the farm, the kids got to enjoy apple cider and a small donut. Finally, we ended the trip by visiting the orchard's petting zoo. While we were walking to see the animals, it started to drizzle. Everyone was quite wet, but that did not stop the kids.  They were so excited that they ran at the animals screaming. This in turn, caused the animals to run away. It was quite the zoo!

This week, I have a growing love for some of the students. At first, they all felt like strangers in our Kindergarten room. Now, they feel like family.

Even though I am not working at my "dream job," I am trying to see every day as a gift, and each interaction with the students as significant.  I am more laid back than I was last year. I know how to find my zen in the midst of screaming, yelling, pulling on my arm students. I am more obvious with them too. "You are yelling, and it is stressing me out" I've had to say a couple of times to one particular student. She gets it and quickly adjusts her volume.

Today, a little boy came to show me his Math paper before putting it in his cubby.
I looked at his paper and said to him, "You need to circle something in this row of 8's."
He scrunched up his nose at me and responded, "You don't know everything."
It was precious; I laughed out loud.
He smiled. "Your silly," he said.

Everything is a game when you are 5. The quiet game, the smiling game, the getting in line fast game, the win a blue ticket game. Life is one big game, and the players could't be more excited even if the prize is a high five from your teacher.

Yes, my fondness is growing for these students. I want them to do well. I want them to succeed in life. I want to do my best to help them become their best.  If I can play some role in where they are heading, who they are becoming, I will feel it matters. It is significant. I am significant.

An important lesson from a little boy

This past Friday, the Kindergarten students took their NWEA tests on the computer. This test largely feels like a waste of time for 5 year olds who can hardly control their mouse, much less manipulate the pictures on the screen to answer questions about reading. Oh My! A little stressful to say the least. By the end of this hour and a half of testing, I wanted to go home already.

But it was early in the day, and the end was far from sight. After our test, we walked the students, single file, over to the gymnasium. To get to the gym, we have to walk through a busy parking lot, cross a street, and walk along a sidewalk that has a steep embankment next to it. By the time we arrived at gym, I was even more ready for a break.

To get to the gym, however, students have to walk down a long, orange hallway that has several large canvas paintings hanging on the wall right at the student's level. Of course, the students can't help but touch the paintings even though they know they are not supposed to. I yelled out a warning to students, "If you touch the painting, you will have a time-out." Much to my chagrin, 3 more students touched the painting immediately after my warning.

As we entered the gym, I started calling out names for students who needed to sit in a time-out. "Ashley, Maryam, Ridwan, Michael! Come over and have a time-out on the bleachers."
They each walked over and sat down on the bleachers. One boy, Michael, moved over to the further bleacher. I set my timer for 3 minutes. One minute later, I looked over at Michael to see that he had a marker in his hand and was writing on the bleacher. Wait. What?  Writing on the bleachers?  I went over to investigate further. Sure enough, he had found a marker laying on the bleachers and had begun to scribble on them. I picked up the marker to read the words "Permanent marker." Oh great--what are the chances that someone would leave a permanent marker just sitting on the bleachers?

My initial response was one of guilt, that I had done something wrong. Surely, I should have been monitoring him more closely. Maybe I shouldn't have made those students have time-out in the first place. Is it really that serious that they touched the painting on the wall? Maybe I should have had them take their time-out in another place, free from distractions? Maybe I could just get some wet wipes and clean off the permanent marker doodles the student had made on the bleachers. But wait-- why did I feel guilty? I did not write on the bleachers; I did not touch the canvas painting outside to result in a time-out.  All the other students were able to sit in time-out without finding ways to vandalize the gym. And so in my heart, I knew that I had to let this student suffer the consequences of his choices. I told the gym teacher what he had done. I helped the teacher fill out a behavior correction form, and we called the EBD support over to the gym.

As I was thinking about this incident, I got a taste of what parents must experience. I am sure that often times when their child messes up, they want to take the fall for them. "It was my fault I didn't teach him about vandalizing," or "It was my mistake for not talking with her about bullying," or on and on the excuses could go. In fact, parents can't possibly teach their children all the information they need to know before they enter pre-school or kindergarten. It's okay to let a child experience the result of a bad choice. We can't prepare them for every situation. We can't protect them from messing up. But we can show them that decisions, even if based on a harmless impulse, have consequences.

For Michael, his consequence was meeting with the EBD support staff to clean off all the bleachers. He also had to miss the reward recess we have every Friday afternoon. Finally, Michael wrote me an apology note, and his parents were called. I also learned an invaluable lesson from this incident: it is okay to let kids get in trouble and face the natural consequences of their actions.  If I simply sweep up their mistake, they don't learn for the next time.

And now I can write again. . .

This past month taking a break from blogging has been refreshing for my soul. I have learned that my identity is not attached to whether people are reading what I write or not. I have learned that free time spent reading a book or praying completely refreshes me in a different way.  And now I feel free to write again and have even been itching to do so.

This past few weeks especially, the kids have been saying some pretty endearing things. The other day, we were walking to the playground when they noticed that there was an American flag on one of the balconies of a nearby apartment. 

"Is that where President Obama lives?" one asked. 

"No." I responded. "He doesn't even live in Minnesota. He lives in another state in a big house." 

"A white house" one girl responded knowingly. 

"Yes, that's right. A big white house," I confirmed.

And of course there have been other countless dear conversations with these students. With only three school days left, the semester is winding to a close. This class has been challenging and yet I will sincerely miss them next year when they graduate to first grade. 

Conversations with Kindergarteners #5

Ah--the blood moon. The kids have sure been howling these past couple days. I know that some people think the full moon is just a superstition. But after working at a school for three years, I can verify that the full moon affects the students, down to their bones. These past few days, kids have had trouble sitting on their chairs, keeping their hands to themselves, and walking in line. . ("oops, sorry for slamming my body into yours.")

It's a good thing they have also been saying some pretty cute things recently, otherwise I would be looking for work elsewhere. Here are some highlights from conversations with kindergarteners this past week:

"Teacher, I have five names."

Urkel student:
"Do you know why some Ethiopian children have sucked in cheeks? It's because they are starving and malnourished. But not me because I'm African American. This means that sometimes I eat African food and sometimes I eat American food."

"Teacher I have five names." (same kid as earlier, one hour later.)

"I have lots of boogers in my nose."

Student: Teacher, I like your blue pants and your black coat.
Me: Why thank you, those are sure nice words to say.
Another student who overheard: Teacher, I like your hair and your eyes and your nose.
Another student who overheard: I like your nostrils, and your chin and your ears.
Me: Wow, thank you everyone for your nice words.

One student to another student: Quit stamping your feet.
Another student: Yeah, quit stopping your feet.

"Teacher, I have five names." (same kid as earlier, but he tells the other teacher.)

Student: Teacher, he said that my mom and dad kissed.
Me: Oh no, no talking about kissing in school.

Student to another student: Your breath smells like chemicals.

That's a wrap!

Conversations with Kindergarteners #4

Student while looking at my ring: Are you married two times?
Me: Oh, you mean because there are two rings together?
Student: Yeah.
Me: No, I received the first ring when my husband asked me to marry him and the second ring when we got married.

Student: Your hands are cool, but why are they so small?
Me: Well, that's how I was born. It's called a trait.  My mother and grandmother both have shorter fingers like this too.
Student: Whoa, cool.

Student: Did you know, I was born to run because my dad was a runner.
Another student: Yeah, me too. When I was born, I was running really fast.

Student: Why are you not wearing a hijab?

Me: Because I am not Muslim so I do not need to wear a hijab?

Student: Oh, are you American?

Me: Yes, but so are you. It has nothing to do with being an American.

All the below comments are from a student I lovingly refer to as "little Urkel" from the show Family Matters. This kindergartener is incredibly smart and remembers lots of random facts. He also has pretty thick glasses which adds to his persona.

           "Did you know that kangaroos lick themselves when they get too hot?"

           (While picking a spiderman sticker:)  "I'm going to pick this one, because I love doing yoga; sometimes stretching just feels good."

             "Did you know which shark has the strongest jaws of the ocean? It's the coral reef shark. It's jaws are so strong that if a sea turtle gets its flipper or tail in it's jaws, well, see you later turtle."

Conversations with Kindergarteners #3

Student: Teacher, I'm hungry.
Me: Sorry, I don't have any food with me.
Student: Well, candy will work too.
Me: Sorry, I don't have that either.

Student (holding his broccoli:) Teacher, I got a tree.

Student: Do you live with your mom?
Me: No, I don't. My mom lives in another state.
Student: Can I live with you?
Me: No, sorry.

Student (on the 100th day of kindergarten): This is the best day ever.

Student: Teacher, I don't want any breakfast. I ate at home already.
Me: What did you eat?
Student: A sandwich.
Me: What kind of sandwich?
Student: A pickle sandwich.

Student: My brother got something stuck in his throat once.
Me: Did your mom help him to get it out?
Student: No, it's still stuck there.
Me: Really? Your brother in second grade?
Student: Yes, that's why he talks like this. . (student tilts chin down.)

Conversations with Kindergarteners #2

Student: My mom has a lot of children.
Me: How many?
Student: She has 40 children.

Student: Teacher, your boots look like safari boots.
Me: Oh, they do?
Same Student 10 minutes later: Teacher, you look like a farmer today.
Me: Oh yeah, I guess I do.

Student: Teacher, I see your butt.
(For the record, it was not my butt; it was my back--that pesky gap of skin between one's pants and undershirt when one bends down to tie a shoe. Note to self--tuck in all under shirts in the future.)

Student: Clowns aren't real.
Me: Oh, they're not?
Student: Well, only the evil clowns aren't real, but the good clowns they are real. Is that true?
Me: Yes, I think that is true.
Student: Yeah I think so too.

Student while walking in the snow: It's Christmas cheese.

Conversations with Kindergarteners

The last two days of school, the teacher that I work alongside was sick.  The school tried to find a substitute teacher for her but was only able to find her one for the second day. Thankfully, the ESL teacher helped me out the first day staying with me the entire day and helping me navigate the waters. Still, it was a slight increase in stress levels knowing that we were pretty much responsible for the learning / survival of 21 little kindergarteners. But all in all, I believe that God really gave me peace and even joy in the midst of new situations that I didn't always know how to handle.

Here are some of the conversations I have had with kindergarteners in the last few days:

Boy: Teacher, he said the "F" word.
Me: What word did he say?
Boy: Shut up.

Boy: I'm going to poop in this bag.
Me: We don't say the word "poop" in school. That is a bathroom word used only in the bathroom.
Two days later the same boy: I'm going to poop on this castle.
Me: I have to move your name down now for saying "poop." Remember, those words are only for the bathroom.

Girl while eating chips at lunch: What are chips?
Me: Chips are a kind of junk food. Junk food means food that is not healthy for you.
Girl: I'm not going to eat my chips anymore.
Me: You have already finished the bag.
Girl: I know--but I'm not going to eat anymore.

Girl: Do you have babies.
Me: No--I don't have babies.
Girl: Why not? Is it because you're skinny?
Me: No--that has nothing to do with it.
Girl: But you're an adult?
Me: Yes, but just because someone is an adult, does not mean they have babies.

Boy after being told to have a time-out: I'm mad at you.
Me: I know--it's no fun to have a time-out, but you still need to do have one.
Boy: No--I'm not going to do it (as he walks over and sits in the time-out chair.)

Boy while eating lunch randomly looks up and says: Ah-wooo!
Me: Ibrahim--Why did you do that?
Boy: Teacher--I don't know.

Boy: Teacher--I'm moving to China.
Me: Wow--when are you moving to China.
Boy: Later.
Me: Are you moving this summer?
Boy: Yeah.
Me to Boys' dad: Your son told me he is moving to China.
Dad: No--he just likes China and wants to move there.