13 boys and 3 girls in a small room...

Since Michael wrote a little postcard from his classroom, I thought I would, too.

I have 13 boys and 3 girls in my class(!).  It's a small room designed to hold about 12 students comfortably, but the school is way over-enrolled and many elementary classes already have over 20 students.  That limit in space makes it hard to separate two students when needed.  ("Okay, you -- move 5 inches to the left!")  

In some ways, boys are a lot of work.  They aren't always naturally inclined to want to sit still and write, and often need a lot more excitement injected into an assignment if it involves being quiet and focused.  They cry way more than my girls -- every time they are tired, hurt, frustrated, angry, sad.   And, most importantly, they're very physical:  they fight/wrestle/run into walls/poke each other with their sharp pencils for fun -- and someone always gets hurt.   (Fortunately, they are able to repair friendships instantaneously, which is more than I can say for most grudge-holding girls.) Sometimes I just feel exhausted from having to be so physically involved (pulling them off the tables, picking them up from wrestling matches on the floor, guiding them to where they're supposed to be instead of where ever they are).  Here are my three most memorable phrases from last week:

•  "This is the Reading Corner, not the Karate Corner!"
• "Hey!  You'd get a red card for headbutting in soccer -- and you get one in this class, too.  Go sit down."
• "We do not play suffocate in the bean bag!"  

They're making me realize that I have to be a lot more explicit with my instructions ("I'm sorry -- I forgot to say not to break it.").  Fortunately, they do apologize and follow my instructions when I reprimand them.  I think this is because I preface all of my "I'm upset because..." statements with "I like you, friend!"  Somewhere along the line, they see that I'm not just picking on them -- I really do like them and am trying to teach them more than just academics.

And, yes -- even with all this, they are pretty adorable.  One kid to another in my chess club:  "We can't beat Mrs. Fitzgerald at chess because she's super smart and the strongest."   One boy to another: "It is too okay for boys to cry!  I bet your daddy cried the day you were born and he saw you for the first time."   One boy to me after I told him why his friend was mad at him and how to fix it:  "Thank you for helping me be a better friend, Mrs. Fitzgerald."   And even:  "I think you are the best at telling us about Cultural Studies.  I love Cultural Studies!"   Me too!

Yeah. I guess I can stand another day.  : )

They've got a case of the what-ifs.

Just a quick post in between my classes. I think the 12 year-old brain is fascinating. They're always looking for the exception to the rule; I kind of like this or at least can identify with it. I'm not saying that I have a 12 year-old's brain, but ...

Anyway, their favorite way to begin a question is, without a doubt, "What if...?" All day long, every class, every day, "What if...?" I should write some of their what-ifs down, but they fly at me so quickly I don't really have a moment to. I should maybe, at least, start tallying them up.

I talk to teachers who have students slightly older than my seventh graders and their students don't really ask this many what-ifs. I wonder if there's a critical age where the what-ifs drop off. For me, I remember the age where I knew whether I wanted to ask the question or not. You start thinking of what the possible answers will be before you ask the question and then, if you don't like what's a probable response, you don't ask the question. I don't think they're there yet. Sometimes they make more work for themselves.

The bell just rang and the students are starting to stream in now. Questions are already flying. I wonder how long before a what-if pops up. What if one doesn't?? Should I worry?