I am nearing the end of a long-term subbing gig, helping support a first grade class. It’s amazing how kids that age make a place in your heart.
They all have distinct personalities and strengths and deficits. Seeing their gifts and forgiving their bad moments makes you do the same for yourself.
Kids that age are very open and honest and feeling. On the rare occasion they tell a lie, their deception is transparent. These qualities and the fact they are small and cute makes me protective.
Every one of those kids deserves a good education, stability, guidance and attention. People at public schools generally conspire at every turn to make sure these needs are filled.
In my school district, every kid is given a bag of food on weekends. At the school where I’m working, this bag covers every meal of the weekend, just in case they have food insecurity.
The kids are proud of their bags, that they’re bringing home something that adds to their household. They’ve got things like Cup O’ Noodle, oatmeal, granola bars and juice. My daughter gets a bag, too, likes the cereal included and is proud of her contribution to our larder.
Many of the kids in the school district have free lunch and with that comes a breakfast. They sit down at a communal table to start the day.
There are so many other supports, like the counselor who comes in and talks about social emotional concepts. There’s no weird indoctrination, just discussions about regulating emotions accompanied by Star Wars-themed cartoons–let’s say about dealing with disappointment or frustration or being grateful–followed by an exercise.
These would have been just the ticket for when I was a child with a high IQ and low emotional intelligence. It is what it is, though. I get to learn about feelings and breathing exercises and pauses along with the kids.
There are hardworking teachers and interventionists who work with students during the day, helping them with reading, math, speech, special education and ESL. There’s a librarian, music teacher, computer teacher, gym teacher.
Yes, there are also Wellness Rooms. Rather than building a generation of snowflakes, they are helping kids learn how to seek out silence and self-care when they’re overwhelmed. And they get overwhelmed by all kinds of things, from a scary drill to a playground injury to a spat with a friend.
They’re real problems, the kind that beset adults every day. So it’s good, seeing these kids presented with solutions for struggles, the message that they can change, and the promise that they can “do hard things.”
I’m going to miss 17 half-pint friends who call me Mrs. Sarah, ask me to tie their shoes, and make me laugh .
I’m emotional, beneath my Rebel Without A Cause exterior, and I’ve already shed a few tears. There are wonderful kids with lots of potential and needs in the classroom and a whole team of people doing their best to make the school day a mixture of fun and routine and to ensure the kids master academics, no matter how long it takes.
Hanging out with these kids has been heartwarming and fun. It’s a privilege to have kids like and trust you. It’s helped me connect with my inner child and my own children. It’s given me faith in humanity, reminding me that cool people exist.
It’s also given me a sense of purpose, and not just because it’s honest work and gainful employment. My job has been to be part of the team, helping kids with reading, writing, behavior and feelings. I’ve also been able to read stories aloud to the kids nearly every day, which is a dream come true.
I’m happy to have been part of the team at this particular school because it’s heartening. Don’t let anyone tell you public education in the US is a failure, though there are many issues to be addressed. It’s full of grownups cheering children on, at the library, in the cafeteria, in the gym, during assemblies, at recess.
Once this gig changes, I will go on to other substitute teaching assignments, perhaps another long-term one. I’m sorting out my life, pondering getting a teaching degree. Then it’ll be back to working on a master’s degree in journalism.
But I get ahead of myself. Pretty soon, I’m gonna miss a bunch of 6- and 7-year-olds.
–Sarah Torribio
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