Tuesday, May 26, 2015

Tuesday SOL: Truth be told




This is a Tuesday Slice of Life for Two Writing Teachers
Check out their website for many more reflections on teaching.


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Truth be told,
I cannot write a slice tonight.

Truth be told,
there are so many positive things I want to share from my classroom,
about preschoolers,
about teaching.

Truth be told,
I cannot write a slice tonight.

My son (Bryce, 19) is in the midst of a health crisis,
a severe flare-up of his ulcerative colitis.

I can only share the acrostic I wrote at 4pm today,
after 24 hours in the hospital at his side.



It has been a tough three weeks. I will share more from my classroom once Bryce is on the mend.

Tuesday, May 5, 2015

Tuesday SOL I'm just a bad boy



This is a Tuesday Slice of Life for Two Writing Teachers
Check out their website for many more reflections on teaching.


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Often,
by Friday,
preschoolers are just
'tuckered out'...
nothing left to give.
This past Friday was no different,
with at least one little guy
'falling apart',
inexplicably hurting his classmates,
provoking others,
being defiant to me.
Rather than head out to the playground with everyone else,
I suggested he stay in with me for a few minutes,
while I made myself a cup of tea.

"Let's chat, you and me, spend some time together."

"Okay, Ms. Ingram. I didn't want to go outside anyway." (Just a slight amount of petulance in that voice, letting me know he was still in charge.)

"Sweetie, I wonder what's going on.
You seem to be making some unkind choices today -
your friends have gotten very sad when playing with you."

"Oh, Ms. Ingram! Last night, and at breakfast,
I keep hearing
I'm making
bad decisions!
bad decisions!
bad decisions!
That's all anyone is saying!"

Oh my! This was quite a confidence to share with me! I immediately understood what was going on. He'd had a tough evening the night before, followed by a tough morning. The little guy I was spending time with at school was very much the same friend at home.

"You did not have a happy breakfast? You know what I think, I think your family loves you very much...and we love you here in school, too…we all feel very sad when you are unkind to us."

"But I just like myself!" he retorted.

Oh, to be three years old. You feel so important and in charge and yet, I suspect, fully aware of how little you really get to decide. Ever.

I soothed, "Okay, I'll give you a little space."

He settled into the cozy chair while I searched for my tea cup.
Just a moment later, there was a mournful wail…

"I don't get to watch a movie before bed tonight!', he sobbed.

With that, I sat down with him in the cozy chair and just held him for a few minutes.

Sometimes it is really tough to be a preschooler. His earlier actions had stretched a long, punitive arm into the evening in front of him. He had been carrying the weight of this all day long. What motivation was there to be anything but grumpy and defiant? His day was over before it had even begun.

That night, I went to see a blues concert. When Charlie Musselwhite crooned the song "I'm Just a Bad Boy", all I could think of was this little guy….



I'm just a bad boy,

Long long ways from home.

I'm just a bad boy,

Long long ways from home.

But I ain't got nobody

I can call my own.