Before I
had children of my own, if I stopped and thought about what life would be like
once I had kids, those mythical “kids” were always boys. Not sure why, but they
were. And I’ve now been fortunate enough to have two kids, two boys – Luke, who
is almost eleven; and Liam, who is eight. While I certainly believe you can be
a good teacher before becoming a parent, I know I absolutely became a better
one after having children.
It was my
boys that opened my eyes to the fact that the typical way elementary classrooms
are set up favor compliant children, often girls. It was after having my boys
that I realized the high percentage of boys diagnosed with ADD/ADHD or referred
for special education. It was also after having my boys that I started paying
attention to what the gender was of the child waiting to see the principal in
the office. Nine times out of ten, it was a boy.
Why is this? I read up a lot on the issue, but then I started paying attention to my own classes. I will be overgeneralizing here, but when looking at fourth graders and thinking who will be in my room the following year I pay attention to:
· The child who has an anxiety
disorder
· The child who needs “nurturing”
· The child who hates reading
· Any boys who are “active”
Those
kids are almost always on my list. Why? Well, I struggle with anxiety myself –
so I get that. I love every kid I’ve ever taught, so the nurturing makes sense.
Reading – yep. And the boys…
I said
goodbye to my class on Wednesday. That morning we were sitting in the classroom
before heading out to the playground for field day. I looked over the room and
thought how much I would miss them – and then thought about them. Ten girls,
thirteen boys. Of those ten girls – and they were all incredible – eight are
quiet. Two are outspoken, but not in a bad way. All incredible readers. Very
little drama, if at all. (An unusual quality in fifth grade girls – made me
love them even more!)
Now let
me describe the boys. Thirteen of them. Eleven are outspoken or active.
Wonderful students. Move a lot. At one point in the year I compared a few of
them to puppies – they were rolling around on the floor and laughing non-stop.
Some of them stood at their table when they wrote, one turned his chair
backwards each time and knelt on it. He commented just the other day that he
was surprised I never said anything about him sitting/standing that way.
I looked
at him and said, “If it helps you learn, why would I care?”
He
commented that he’d never been allowed to in the past.
Last
night I went to watch Liam play baseball. Chris helps coach his team so Luke
and I stood behind the bleachers by ourselves, using the top row of bleachers
to lean on. We stood because Luke prefers it, he’d rather be able to move than
be “trapped” in a seat for the game – another lesson he has taught me. Three
boys from my reading class came over – they were playing a game on the other
field in a few minutes. We talked about their summer so far. Two confessed they
hadn’t read that day, but promised they would when they got home. Later, three
more boys came up – two from reading class, one from my homeroom. Again, we
talked books and summer plans. One is finishing a series and asked if he could
email me to talk about it as soon as he was done. Of course I said yes.
They left and Luke commented that he thought it was crazy that my students
always came to sit and talk when they saw me. My reply was that we’d talk next
year after he was in my reading class – maybe he’d see why. J As I watched the game, I thought about it. I
love all of my students; I can confidently say that every year. There are some
years I’ve loved them more individually then as a class, but I’ve always loved
them. That being said, I have a special spot in my heart for boys. So many have
come to fifth grade and believed they were “bad.” They had their card turned,
been sent to the principal, notes home, etc. Some of that is absolutely
deserved, but other times I wonder if it is our expectations, our classroom
environments. Sitting still, raising their hands, being quiet for large chunks
of time – those are hard traits for me. How is a young active child supposed to
accomplish that?
So each year I look over my class list. Often there are names that I assume I will see on it. I smile as I see them. I know that happened this year with a few, and my heart sang. I knew I would love them. Active can equal excited, or energetic. Looking at this year’s list, I knew we would have plenty of energy within our four walls, and we sure did.
And so,
on Wednesday morning I looked over that room once more. I took a breath and
read to them a few picture books, a letter I had written. We watched the video
of photos from field day. And I smiled. Their voices sang along to the video
and I lost myself into memories of the year. The crazy stuff that had happened.
The study halls that were never quiet but were always productive and usually
ended with me laughing so hard I cried. I began to wonder about next year’s
class – thinking of the coming increase in class size. Wondering who will be on
that class list? I bet I could guess a few. I know I will love them – from the
moment their names appear on that list. And I know I will hate to see them
leave, just as this class tore my heart in two only a couple of days ago. Is it worth it, absolutely. I hope a they leave realizing how much I loved them - the girls AND the boys. I hope they realize their potential knows no bounds. And I hope they find teachers next year who will love them for the amazing kids they are.
