Let's play 'School!'

I know I haven't posted in a long time, and I know that my large number of followers (sarcasm) have been losing sleep over my lack of blog time. The past few weeks have been absolutely crazy! After Spring Break (which was absolute bliss) I hit the ground running. One of the requirements for our internship is to teach 20 full days, 10 of which are consecutive. This means that I am responsible for all of the planning, preparing, and teaching; while the cooperating teacher is in and out of the room, but mostly out. Needless to say, the past few weeks have been hectic and exhausting, but also very enjoyable and rewarding.

All of my students had to write me letters prior to my arrival in January. They told me all about themselves and their school and also asked me questions. I can imagine this was a great exercise for their most recently learned “writing process” as each letter I received had an introduction, body, and closing.  The letters were fun to read and the detail they chose to give me was quite comical. I got some great descriptions of their desks, the school bathrooms, and the cafeteria food. Everything I wanted to know, right? When reading the descriptions of themselves, I tried to imagine what each one of them would look and act like. I went back and read them a few days ago, and what was a stack of letters with (at the time) meaningless words, became a stack of letters from my sweet students that described themselves perfectly.

Now by no means have I picked favorites throughout this whole teaching experience, but there are definitely a few in particular that I am drawn to because of their behaviors and unique personalities. There is one little girl that is a mirror image of myself as a child. The similarities are uncanny and sitting by her at the lunch table is sometimes the highlight of my day because I feel like I’m having a conversation with my past. I knew we had a lot in common when she walked in the first day wearing a matching floral outfit with her monogram on the front, a big bow in her hair, and a Vera Bradley monogrammed lunch box. (If you haven’t caught on yet, I have a small obsession with monogramming).

This is where the letters come in. All of the letters started off with the generic “Dear Ms. McKinney….My name is _________ and I am going to tell you about myself.” I imagine that was written on the board for them to duplicate verbatim onto their paper. I started flipping through them and came across the letter that came from the precious little girl that shared my monogram obsession. Come to find out, monogramming wasn’t our only shared interest. Her favorite food is macaroni and cheese; “Kraft to be exact” was what her letter said, and I couldn’t agree more. Nothing beats the blue box. Her second favorite food is peanut butter. I could, and do, eat it by the spoonful. She loves school supplies. My dad can vouch for me on that note. I still have never found my dream pencil pouch.  She loves her teacher and going to school, which is enough to describe me as a child. I was more excited about school than I was about having a weekend without it. In fact, I think I looked forward to Mondays, which sounds absolutely ridiculous now. 

During my consecutive days of teaching I was supposed to implement a few of my own teaching/classroom management strategies. I used an old coffee canister and decorated it with the words “Magic Sticks”. I took 15 popsicle sticks, one for each student, and wrote one name on each stick. When I ask questions or need a helper during the day, I can draw a “magic stick” to determine who will be called on. That way I can keep track of who has been called on and make sure it is fair. The magic sticks are supposed to be “magic”. The students are under the impression that the sticks that are drawn are the students that are on their best behavior and are listening; thus deserving of being called on (Obviously it is pure luck and there is nothing magic about it…). Of course they straighten up right when they hear the wood clanking inside of the canister in hopes that their name will be drawn. It’s amazing the kind of incentive you can use to get kids to behave.

My little mini-me was one of the ones that immediately straightened up and got quiet the minute she saw the magic sticks coming out. She didn’t require much straightening up however, seeing that she was always trying to please the teacher. Following the week that I started using the magic sticks, she came up to my desk that Monday morning giddy and beaming. “Ms. McKinney I want to tell you something!” she whispered in my ear. “Well I play school at home, and my playroom is like my classroom. I have a little board and a desk and everything. This weekend I told my mom about the Magic Sticks and she gave me a cup so I could make my own!” I started smiling and told her that I used to play school when I was little and had my own classroom too. When I asked her what she used for her magic sticks, she answered, “Well I didn’t have any popsicle sticks so I just got a few knives, but I can’t write on them, so I just pretend”.

I happened to have leftover popsicle sticks in my bag from when I had made the magic sticks. While my class was at the library at the end of the day, I put about 20 popsicle sticks in a Ziploc bag. I put her name on the bag and stuck it in her take home folder. When she got back she opened her folder and I saw her eyes light up and a smile that stretched from ear to ear. She ran to my desk, sticks in hand, and whispered excitedly in my ear “Are these for me to make magic sticks?!” I nodded my head and she hugged my neck. “I can’t wait to tell my mom that I can have real magic sticks just like you, Ms. McKinney! She’s going to be so excited to have her knives back!”

I felt just as excited as she was. It warmed my heart to see how ecstatic she was…all over a bag of popsicle sticks. I can remember so many times when I was younger trying to mimic little things that my teachers did and from that, building my very own classroom at home. It’s fun to think that I’m the one being mimicked now. And secretly, I wish I could visit her little classroom and play school with her one day. I could even teach her how to create makeshift lockers between the slats of her staircase, just like I did when I was little. I don’t even have to pretend to play school anymore, now I really do have my own classroom.