kiddos

Sometimes I forget that my students are just six years old.
Me, age 5 and 7 months:
Today I remembered. We had an assembly with African dance and music at school. As the awesome West African dancers called students up to dance with them, I saw how tiny mine were compared to the 4th graders, the 6th graders. I thought to myself, "They're just kids, Ellen." I try to treat them like real people, explain things at their level without talking down to them. But at the end of the day, they are only six (or seven) years old. They don't know what a problem like this means:
4
-1
3

They tell funny stories when they aren't supposed to about how one time they had a campfire, but it wasn't cold cause it was summer and it was fun and their friend Annie was there. They have no point and are simply memories. They all say eww if someone's body makes an interesting noise, chew on pencils and erasers, and touch everything that's on their desk when they aren't supposed to. They stare out the window and wonder aloud what those kids on the playground are doing mid-math time. When I walk in the room, I have a student who will immediately raise her hand and look at me until I pass by to hear her judgment on what I am wearing that day. "You look nice today," she whispers.
They forget my name and refer to me as "Miss.... ummm..." or my personal favorite "um, Missus, can you help me?"

On Monday, my dear first graders were not at school. We had teacher training. I was shocked to see how quickly I had a pen in my mouth and was fidgeting with all the things on my table, wondering what the people in the hall were doing, hoping I could go use the restroom to get up and not be bored.

We are not that different from first graders. We just know the expectations now and cover it up better. But not all my learning experiences have been like sitting in that room on Monday. No, no. If they had all been like that, I would not have gone to college. I think the most powerful learning doesn't feel like learning at all. You are spellbound, captivated by wonder. We've all had a teacher that made something come alive, from World War II to PreCalc, French I to human anatomy.

How can we tap into that more often? I wondered as I sat in teacher training, "How in the world can a teacher teaching teachers about teaching be uninteresting?! Shouldn't there be enough general knowledge in this room about what creates good learning?"

I still don't really understand. But here's a quote from Henry Barnes, a teacher with the Waldorf schools:

"When children (I'd say "humans") relate what they learn to their own experience, they are interested and alive, and what they learn becomes their own."