Reawakening of a Teacher as Parent
When I left teaching in the primary grades (K, 1 and 2), it was to pursue higher education. I had a great 6 year career as a teacher in the primary grades. I was a literacy specialist, Reading Recovery teacher and fostered a developmentally appropriate, constructivist approach to education. In fact, I thought it was so great, I wrote a book called, 10 Golden Nuggets. It is yet unpublished but maybe someday. But this is about the day that I spent a couple hours in my youngest son’s preschool class. I am still in the habit of reflecting on my days, and I was doing it that day when some thoughts formed in my head and I decided I would write about them. I noticed three things that I had when I was in my First grade classroom, that I lost when I left the classroom and found again when I visited. Teachers of young children have certain qualities. I had them. I think I lost them in the 17 years since I left the classroom. But it was refreshing to find the embers of patience, tolerance and spontaneity.
Patience
We had spent 15 minutes creating a “Name Caterpillar” for Valentine’s Day with 7 little 3 and 4 year olds. We had asked the children if they wanted pipe cleaners for antennae and legs, or markers for writing the letters of their name and making a face. The teacher made the announcement that we were finishing this project and going upstairs to do a science project; and then this exchange:
Teacher: “Okay, let’s gather your name caterpillar and go
on upstairs.”
Child: “What about my legs?”
Teacher: “We can take the pipe cleaners upstairs.”
Me: [in my head] “What the crap? We just spent 15 minutes, asked
several times, even made the pipe cleaners available, and you
wait until we cleaned up to ask for the legs?”
When I was a First grade teacher, that frustration would have never even entered my mind. I was patient and understanding and always had the children’s growth and development in my mind. But I think it is because I could always separate myself from the children with whom I was working. When they were mine, my own children, their little idiosyncrasies and COMPLETELY developmentally appropriate behaviors became frustrating and maddening. It took being back in that place when, as an educator and role model for someone else’s children, I had to be patient and laugh in my head but not say a single negative comment. Still do it with my own – make little comments about how frustrating their completely normal behavior is – and it’s the thing that I don’t like about myself. But I will do better.
Tolerance
I don’t mean the kind of tolerance related to race and cultural differences, nothing that serious. I just mean when a child spills a cup of milk….and you wipe it up…..give him a little more….and he spills it again. Rather than being upset or irritated, you just brush it off with a smile and realize in their world, this is an opportunity to learn about cause and effect, their autonomy and observing modeled behavior when milk is spilt.
When I was a classroom teacher, I had centers for children. They were based on domains of literacy (listening, speaking, reading and writing), Gardner’s theory of multiple intelligences and of course, thematic centers. The point is that there was SO much activity going on during that time. In fact, I had teachers from adjoining classrooms come over and ask me to quiet down a little. But that was my classroom: active, engaging, dynamic, loud, boisterous, student-centered and flexible. What happened? When did that openness and willingness to let things happen around me without intervening disappear? Was it when the children who were expanding their boundaries became my own and the noise and boundary – pushing was 24/7 and I couldn’t control everything? Maybe that’s it. With tolerance for difference and boundary pushing comes letting go of control. In my classroom, I set up the environment and children explored their boundaries but within a larger set of boundaries: classroom rules, expectations, the WALLS! I was able to experience that loss of control within set boundaries again in my son’s preschool classroom.
Spontaneity
This is a big one for me that I think either age or experience or SOMETHING stole from me. Being with those children for a couple of hours and seeing them with their teachers, reminded me of a time when I was spontaneous, whimsical, light-hearted and open to unknown outcomes. There was just so much spontaneous thought and moving from activity to activity and utterances about the world just brought me back to my Kindergarten classroom when children would make comments that popped into their heads that I just relished. For example, one student told me that I was supposed to marry “Miss Cindy” and when I asked her why, she told me it was because we both had black hair. I just smiled because it is just so ludicrous but the logic in her head was so basic and rational. How else do people get together if not for the color of their hair?
My son was passing out his valentines to the other children when he asked if he could have the candy.
I said, “No honey, these are for your friends.” And he said, “But they’re mine.”
There it was; infallible logic that has evidence right there in front of him without any of the pretenses of sharing and otherwise. This thought popped into his head and he told me about it. I could just smile. Another four year old told me to remember to put one of his valentines into his own bag. Infallible logic people!
Oh yeah, and then one of the two year olds toppled his lunch plate because….just because. Spontaneity. Then another moved from heart stickers, to blocks to trying to put a baby crib over one of the infants…spontaneity. I forgot how much joy there is in just watching them and not being concerned that something will break or it isn’t “right” or whatever the rational, adult version of the activity might keep us from doing it.
My 7 year old loves spontaneity. I think I may have been close to squashing it out of him. In fact, sometimes he will do something that he thinks is funny and I really don’t, and he will tell me after I correct him, “I thought it would be funny.” He didn’t think it through; he just did it, realized the outcome and then went about his day. I keep holding on to it, even bring it up later if he does something else I don’t approve of…not good parenting. 25 years ago? That wouldn’t have been my response. I would have been patient, tolerant and of course, know that the statements coming out of him are the bursts of thoughts and ideas that society and culture hasn’t shut down in him.
This is why I truly appreciate the early childhood educators who have worked with my sons for the past 5 years. I did it once, forgot all the traits that made me a great teacher, and was recently reminded how important those qualities are – even more so as a father. Preschool teachers should get paid more – not by my wife and me – by the government. Preschool and especially young child care, ought to be paid for by all the people because they ARE all the people. But that is another essay altogether.
Patience
We had spent 15 minutes creating a “Name Caterpillar” for Valentine’s Day with 7 little 3 and 4 year olds. We had asked the children if they wanted pipe cleaners for antennae and legs, or markers for writing the letters of their name and making a face. The teacher made the announcement that we were finishing this project and going upstairs to do a science project; and then this exchange:
Teacher: “Okay, let’s gather your name caterpillar and go
on upstairs.”
Child: “What about my legs?”
Teacher: “We can take the pipe cleaners upstairs.”
Me: [in my head] “What the crap? We just spent 15 minutes, asked
several times, even made the pipe cleaners available, and you
wait until we cleaned up to ask for the legs?”
When I was a First grade teacher, that frustration would have never even entered my mind. I was patient and understanding and always had the children’s growth and development in my mind. But I think it is because I could always separate myself from the children with whom I was working. When they were mine, my own children, their little idiosyncrasies and COMPLETELY developmentally appropriate behaviors became frustrating and maddening. It took being back in that place when, as an educator and role model for someone else’s children, I had to be patient and laugh in my head but not say a single negative comment. Still do it with my own – make little comments about how frustrating their completely normal behavior is – and it’s the thing that I don’t like about myself. But I will do better.
Tolerance
I don’t mean the kind of tolerance related to race and cultural differences, nothing that serious. I just mean when a child spills a cup of milk….and you wipe it up…..give him a little more….and he spills it again. Rather than being upset or irritated, you just brush it off with a smile and realize in their world, this is an opportunity to learn about cause and effect, their autonomy and observing modeled behavior when milk is spilt.
When I was a classroom teacher, I had centers for children. They were based on domains of literacy (listening, speaking, reading and writing), Gardner’s theory of multiple intelligences and of course, thematic centers. The point is that there was SO much activity going on during that time. In fact, I had teachers from adjoining classrooms come over and ask me to quiet down a little. But that was my classroom: active, engaging, dynamic, loud, boisterous, student-centered and flexible. What happened? When did that openness and willingness to let things happen around me without intervening disappear? Was it when the children who were expanding their boundaries became my own and the noise and boundary – pushing was 24/7 and I couldn’t control everything? Maybe that’s it. With tolerance for difference and boundary pushing comes letting go of control. In my classroom, I set up the environment and children explored their boundaries but within a larger set of boundaries: classroom rules, expectations, the WALLS! I was able to experience that loss of control within set boundaries again in my son’s preschool classroom.
Spontaneity
This is a big one for me that I think either age or experience or SOMETHING stole from me. Being with those children for a couple of hours and seeing them with their teachers, reminded me of a time when I was spontaneous, whimsical, light-hearted and open to unknown outcomes. There was just so much spontaneous thought and moving from activity to activity and utterances about the world just brought me back to my Kindergarten classroom when children would make comments that popped into their heads that I just relished. For example, one student told me that I was supposed to marry “Miss Cindy” and when I asked her why, she told me it was because we both had black hair. I just smiled because it is just so ludicrous but the logic in her head was so basic and rational. How else do people get together if not for the color of their hair?
My son was passing out his valentines to the other children when he asked if he could have the candy.
I said, “No honey, these are for your friends.” And he said, “But they’re mine.”
There it was; infallible logic that has evidence right there in front of him without any of the pretenses of sharing and otherwise. This thought popped into his head and he told me about it. I could just smile. Another four year old told me to remember to put one of his valentines into his own bag. Infallible logic people!
Oh yeah, and then one of the two year olds toppled his lunch plate because….just because. Spontaneity. Then another moved from heart stickers, to blocks to trying to put a baby crib over one of the infants…spontaneity. I forgot how much joy there is in just watching them and not being concerned that something will break or it isn’t “right” or whatever the rational, adult version of the activity might keep us from doing it.
My 7 year old loves spontaneity. I think I may have been close to squashing it out of him. In fact, sometimes he will do something that he thinks is funny and I really don’t, and he will tell me after I correct him, “I thought it would be funny.” He didn’t think it through; he just did it, realized the outcome and then went about his day. I keep holding on to it, even bring it up later if he does something else I don’t approve of…not good parenting. 25 years ago? That wouldn’t have been my response. I would have been patient, tolerant and of course, know that the statements coming out of him are the bursts of thoughts and ideas that society and culture hasn’t shut down in him.
This is why I truly appreciate the early childhood educators who have worked with my sons for the past 5 years. I did it once, forgot all the traits that made me a great teacher, and was recently reminded how important those qualities are – even more so as a father. Preschool teachers should get paid more – not by my wife and me – by the government. Preschool and especially young child care, ought to be paid for by all the people because they ARE all the people. But that is another essay altogether.