The Goody Bag

"It's not fair!" exclaimed Scarlet. "Why does he get to keep it?" And so began another kindergarten tug-of-war over who was going to end up with something the others were restricted from claiming. This time, the dispute involved a "goody bag" that Gus had found on our field trip to McLaren Park today. The kindergarteners never know when I'm going to surprise them by letting them keep a small token they come across on trips like this - a shiny bead, miniature playing card and a new ballpoint pen were all discovered on our walking trip through the Portola neighborhood today. And because they had shown them to me first, these lucky scavengers were able to keep each item as a souvenir of our day together. But this discovery felt different. As more and more children gathered around Gus to proclaim the unfairness of him being the rightful owner of it, the look on his face as he walked towards me revealed he already had a feeling he wasn't going to be allowed to keep his prize. Reluctantly, he handed the clear zipper bag with a bright sticker over to me, and immediately I could see the appeal. After all, any child would be excited about receiving a party bag filled with what looked like new, colorful balloons and small packets of flavored chapstick. As tired as I was, I had to act fast; swiftly, I deposited the bag of unused condoms and lubricant into my backpack, telling Gus, "This might be a goody bag for someone, but it's not for us." This wasn't the answer he wanted to hear, but as long as no one else was going to be allowed to go home with it, he let it go. Now, someone just needs to tell the SF Department of Public Health that, though they're doing a great service by handing out these Safe Sex bags in public locations, they might want to work on making them look slightly less appealing to children!

Teaching with love has it's drawbacks

Last year, when I was trying to figure out my place in the classroom with a co-teacher who was not convinced I wasn't setting him up for failure, I overheard something he said to a fellow teacher. When she said, "Carla seems great! What's it like teaching with her?" his response took a moment. Finally, he said, "Well, she certainly teaches with love." That response really worked for me. And that's when I knew he and I were going to be ok. Because it's true, I really do try to keep my heart in the game everyday. Today, I was reminded of the downside of teaching this way. At 3:35pm, I opened the email from L's mom and dad. In it, she very sincerely thanked our Head of School for all his efforts, and said tomorrow would be his last day at school. With that, our months and months of struggle were finally resolved. And I felt - crestfallen. We'd failed. Though the outcome may have ultimately been the same, the way it went down was not how it should have gone.

At 2:00pm today, walking the kids to singing time, I pulled L aside. I squatted down to his level, and said, "Hi! How are you? I feel like I haven't seen you in a couple days...I've missed you." He looked in my eyes and responded, "You missed me?" I couldn't tell you what the expression on his face meant, and that has been part of the problem for months - was he surprised, sad or happy to hear this information? I can't say. But I do know, if I thought I missed him today, it is nothing compared to how much I'm going to miss him after tomorrow.