30. (six.) : What thread weaves ... all this ... together ?

Lots of short peoples’ tears wept into my shirt today. Various little accidents, injuries, disappointments. Also extremely red allergy-eyes and a vomit incident. (Not both from the same kid.)

My favorite words of today: “Holy Spirit, please help the lady who got the hole in her head. For she can live, and her family can live…” This from J. the reluctant saint. Who, I would also add for background, is the most “I am not a morning person” kindergartener I have ever seen. Grumpy like an old man, I tell ya. Reticent, silent. Not awake. Cracks me up. We’ve been learning about the day of Pentecost, about the Holy Spirit. I’ve told them about the Trinity. But I hadn’t told them, really, that they could pray to the Spirit. So it blessed my heart that J. did.
His prayer was for the subject of a rather gruesome neighborhood story related by J.-girl about an elderly woman who fell and is now in the hospital.

“We need to have a talk,” says I, I says. It is a moment of rather intense frustration. “It is your job to make sure that your brain is getting exercise when you are at school. Can I open your head and pour things into your brain?” “No,” comes the fascinated response. “Even when it is someone else’s turn to talk or to read,” I go on with this somber lecture, “you can be getting smarter. If you are playing and talking instead of trying to read along and exercising your brain, then you are missing a chance for your brain to grow, and to get stronger. You can be getting ready for first grade. But it is your job to do it! I can’t make you learn what I am teaching you. I am trying my very best, but it is your job to catch it. Don’t let it walk by you.”
How many times do you have to say this to five and six year olds for it to have any effect whatsoever? A million? A trillion? Lately the title of a book I own, I Won’t Learn From You, keeps coming to mind. It’s been my goal to make learning feel like a breeze. Feel like fun. Feel like games. Delight. And yet sometimes I wonder if my doing this has made them totally clueless that they have a responsibility and an accountability in this process.

For our social studies unit on markets around the world, we practiced bargaining today. Hilarious. “Hmm. 20’s a little steep,” I say. “I’ll give you ten, though.” Kindergarten minds (most of them) are not real swift with the number-relationships. “How about… two,” says the seller. I draw the numbers in order vertically to try to clarify the process. Mostly it’s just fun to hear them haggle. Even more fun with nonsensical numbers, really. A couple of them don’t bargain with me at all. They accept my lower price without countering. The wheeler-dealers among the group call out in frustration. “Oh, man! She didn’t even do anything!” they moan. I bargain for a guitar, a seashell, a horse and some chocolates. The former two real, the latter two imaginary. I got the horse for a dollar, the chocolates for fifty, the seashell for ten, and the guitar for two. The Kinder-economy.

Note to all Kindergarten teachers and would-be Kindergarten folk: Telling your class that they have to be a “secret Kindergarten class” as they walk in line behind you actually works!! Keep turning around dramatically to see if they’re still there. Exclaiming “I don’t even know there’s anyone behind me!” is also helpful. As is “I can definitely tell that ____ is behind me, but everyone else is being so secret!” I’ve tried “We have to be as quiet as spies” before, and that works pretty well, but my dramatic gang can get overzealous with the tiptoeing and dodging about. I wish I’d known about “secret Kindergarten class” in September. Although maybe it wouldn’t work for a whole year. Few things do. . . .