One of my students recently found out that he
has a brain tumor. When I found out, I
cried for hours. Literally. This kid is soooo smart. And charming.
And just adorable. Cutest child
ever. I was devastated to think about
what his future might hold—or if he would even have a future (side note—after
an MRI, doctors have determined that the tumor is not doing any damage, and as
long as it doesn’t grow, they will not have to do surgery—or as he would say,
“Ms. Keddington, they’re not going to surger me.”). I felt physically ill whenever I thought
about it, not to mention feeling near tears most of the time. It was terrible. There were so many other things that were
worrisome: parents didn’t have
insurance, he lives below the poverty line, etc. But overall, I just wanted this child to be
happy and healthy.
Because of the tumor, A. couldn’t go to recess
or to PE for almost 2 months. At first,
on days when we had PE, he would go to either computers or music with another 2nd
grade class. Twice a week, he would go
hang out with the secretaries in the office during recess. The rest of the time, he would come to my
classroom and hang out with me. As time
went on, and the uncertainty in his life increased, he started to stay with me
all the time. When I would tell him it
was time to go to the office or to computers or music, his huge brown eyes
would fill with tears and he would ask if he could stay with me. How can you say no to that? Needless to say, A. and I became BFFs.
One day, when A. was with me during my prep, we
were running around doing a million different things—making copies, getting
books, etc. While we were walking back
to my classroom, he said, “Wow, Ms. Keddington!
Being a teacher makes me tired!”
I had to laugh at that one! About
an hour later, as we were walking with the class out of the school at the end
of the day, A. said to me, “Ms. Keddington, thanks for being my teacher.” My eyes welled up with tears and I thought,
“Oh, A. Don’t you see—I am not your
teacher, you are mine.”
Just a few thoughts about what A. taught me
during that experience:
- · It is possible to think of others when going through a crisis. I didn’t want A. to think it was a punishment that he couldn’t go to recess. So, I asked him if he would like to invite a friend to stay with him on the days that he was with me during recess. He said he would. And then, a minute later he said, “Ms. Keddington, maybe we should just go in ABC Order, because I don’t want anyone to feel left out if I don’t choose them.” Oh! That just melted my heart! But then I asked, “Should we maybe leave the girls out, though?” To which he responded, “Yes!” I guess his 7-year old compassion does have some boundaries…
- · Sometimes, we just have to do things because they are what are good for us. One day as A. and I were going to get the other kids from recess, I said to him, “A., I am really proud of you. I know how much you love to run and play at recess and during P.E., but you have never once complained about having to stay inside. I think that is pretty awesome.” He replied, “But Ms. Keddington, this is for my best good.” (Please keep in mind that English is not his first language, so sometimes he doesn’t speak correctly. Ha ha.) Sometimes I wish I understood that better. I feel like I always complain about things when I don’t particularly want to do them!
- Doing kind things for people is always a good idea. There were several times over the past few months when A. would persuade me to do something nice for the kids in our class. For example, one day we were working on something during my prep and he said, “Ms. Keddington, I think the kids have been really good today. We should surprise them with a treat on their desks for when they get back from P.E. They love surprises!” We put a cookie on each kid’s desk (after cleaning them with Clorox Wipes first, of course) and guess what? He was so right! The other kids were so excited, and he was even more excited than they were.
I am so grateful for
the things I have learned this year from A.
I was his teacher last year, as well, and I feel so blessed to be in his
life. With that being said, I have some
other really awesome students as well.
Here are just a few nuggets of wisdom I have gathered from them:
·
It really is easy to make someone’s
day. On days that my kids are driving me
CRAZY (about once every 2 weeks), I like to eat lunch with them in the
cafeteria, as long as I have checked with the lunch ladies to make sure the
food is edible. I do this because when
my kids are nuts, it is really good for me to see them in a setting outside of
the classroom. It kind of reminds me
that I actually like them. The first
time I did this, one of my little girls, M., said, “This is the best day of my
WHOLE life!” I thought, “Gee! If I had known that, I would have done this a
long time ago!”
·
Laughter really is the best
medicine. Sometimes being with a whole
bunch of 6 and 7 year olds all day is hard.
But it seems like every time I feel frustrated with a student or
something, someone will say or do something completely ridiculous, and we will
all laugh together. Like the time T.
said to me, “Ms. Keddington, my mom has an octopus.” And I said, “No, she doesn’t.” And he simply said, “Oh. Okay.” Hilarious.
The other day when my kids were walking back from art, they were nuts. It’s like they forgot how to walk in a line. I was feeling frustrated, but then my whole
class (except for the Arabic speaking student, and the 2 Vietnamese speaking
students) broke in to song. Of course it
was a Spanish song, so I had no idea what they were saying. Neither did they, actually, which kind of
worries me. They couldn’t tell me what the
words were in English, which leads me to believe it was Spanish slang or
something. Probably not good. But it sure was funny. I probably should have disciplined them, but
I couldn’t stop laughing. I seriously
genuinely enjoy being with these kiddos.
They make me so happy.
·
My students are constantly giving me
advice on how to find a husband and get married. My two favorite pieces of advice are: 1. Just
go to the mall. I can find a husband
there. 2. Just say hi to men. WHY HAVE I NEVER SAID HI TO A MAN BEFORE?!?!
·
George Washington is the best president
ever. On Election Day, we were talking
about the different presidential candidates.
Some of my students were saying how they would have voted for Barack
Obama, and some were saying they would have voted for Mitt Romney. And then, one student, R., said, “I would
have voted for George Washington.” I
replied, “But George Washington is dead.”
***Insert huge, mortified gasp!***
“He is?” This child was devastated at the thought that
this man was dead. Apparently when we
researched and wrote reports about the American Revolution and the Founding Fathers,
I forgot to mention that George Washington was dead… Oops.
My bad.
·
I am white. A couple of weeks ago, I was getting hives
every single day. I have no idea
why. But one day, I was scratching my
leg (who knew hives were so itchy?), and the very bottom of my pant leg came up. One of my students, E., said, “Whoa, Ms.
Keddington! Your legs are so white!” I said, “You’re right, E. I wish I had beautiful dark skin like you
guys do!” A few hours later my kids were
using their spelling words as they wrote sentences. One of the words was “white.” R. wrote, “Ms. Keddington is white.” Ha ha.
I feel so lucky to work with these kids every
day. I work long hours and on Friday
nights I am so tired that all I want to do is go to bed at 8:00 (and sometimes
I do just that). I feel burnt out almost
all the time, and under appreciated much of the time. But when I see 22 sets of beautiful brown eyes
looking up at me, I remember why I do this job.
I do this job because the world has knocked these kids down, and they
need someone to lift them higher. I do
this job because these children need someone to believe in them. They need stability. They need someone who will work relentlessly
to help them reach their potential. But most
of all, they need love. And although I
inevitably fail them in some way or another every.single.day., at least that one
thing, I can provide. And so I do.