Life settled in our classroom. Pretty soon, my students seemed “normal” to me and I noticed how boring the rest of the world seemed. I would talk to people at church and walk away feeling as though “something was missing” because I could sense they didn’t share their true feelings.
There was one man at church, however, who gave me his true thoughts after my husband, Michael, had preached for the first time as the associate pastor. As I mentioned in an earlier blog, I grew up in a fairly conservative denomination. As a child, I was raised in a home without swearing and that was certainly a standard I held for myself at this time in my life. Even though I was more comfortable when people swore after hearing it all day, every day in my classroom, it still caught me off guard outside the classroom.
This particular Sunday, Michael had preached a very nice sermon. His delivery was excellent and the words he shared were memorable (even though I have NO IDEA what the sermon was about now). After the service, Tommy approached me. Tommy was a man small in stature of Hawaiian and Japanese descent. He came up to about my shoulders and immediately got into my space, pointing his index finger at my chin.
“I want you to know,” he said, “that Son of a Bitch is going to be a great man someday!”
It was one of those moments that renders one speechless. I didn’t know whether to say thank you or to punch him out. I think I tried to be gracious and then looked for an escape route. In addition to learning to be a teacher, I was also in training for being a minister’s wife. I thought learning to be a teacher at this point was easier and definitely a lot more fun!!
Our routine at school never became boring. Joan and I worked hard to find ways to make experiences as sensory as possible. I had talked to other teachers and had read a bit on my own. I learned “sensory” was the key. If an experience was sensory, it was more likely to integrate the learning content into the student’s knowledge base. The question we asked ourselves constantly was “what senses will the students have to use in this activity?”
We tried to engage the sense of sight first, eventually moving to the sense of touch. The more extreme the experience, the better. So, on the first day of snow, my mind began to turn. What could I do to make this an “experience” for my students?
After we settled in the classroom and completed our morning routine, I told Joan, “Take all the kids over to the window and make them watch the snow for a few minutes, I’ll be right back.”
I bundled myself up and went out into the falling snow. It was one of those magical snows where it was coming down so hard I felt I was the plastic character in a snow globe that someone had just given a good shake.
I stood in front of our classroom window and waved to the kids looking out. I caught snowflakes on my tongue and walked in circles, pointing to my boot prints. I laid on the ground making a snow angel and generally acted like an idiot. Then it was time to take it to the next level. I made soft snowballs and threw one at each face in the window. They laughed and pointed each time I hit someone’s face. They were so tickled and excited. When I hit Joan’s face, I could hear Darryl’s “Jo, look cold” through the class. Ok, now the next level. I grabbed an armful of snow and headed for the classroom. I had no sooner entered the classroom when Mr. Brock’s voice came over the PA system, “Excuse me teachers for the interruption. Students let me remind you of our rule regarding the snow. There are absolutely NO snowballs allowed on school grounds. If you are caught throwing or making snowballs, you will be sent home immediately. Thank you.”
I looked at my armful of snow, now a puddle on our carpeted floor. “So much for that sensory experience.” I said as I tried to fit my mind in the small rigid box presented to me through that announcement. Joan, my ever present cheerleader smiled, “Don’t worry! The kid’s loved that and we can scoop in some more snow through the window. Some rules are okay to break—but maybe no more snowballs at the window.” I laughed as we scooped some snow in through the window for the kids to touch.
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