Adventures in kindergarten

Today was Field Trip Day again at school. This time, I was the lucky teacher who remained behind with the kids who didn't go: 32 students ranging from entering kindergarten in the fall to entering sixth grade all stuck together in one classroom. Most of the time, I enjoy the field trips--it's a free pass to places I'd like to take the kids to but can't afford, like the Santa Monica Pier, or, heck, bowling. I was happy enough to miss today's trip, though. Roller skating would have been fun, but the hour plus of playtime at the park after would have bored me to tears, and I was glad to have some extra planning time.

After getting through the five or so hours of playing One Room Schoolhouse, though, I have to admit--I'd be a terrible kindergarten teacher. I definitely belong in the upper side of elementary, or at least safely in the middle, with my third graders who know how to line up and raise their hand in a classroom, and even with my second graders, who apparently don't.

Highlights of my day today:
- At recess time, I had the kids line up by class, youngest first. I called the first kindergarten table. Six little 4- and 5-year-olds dutifully stood up, pushed in their chairs, and stood by the door. Two stayed in their seats, watching wide-eyed as all their classmates walked over to stand in line. I tried again. "Everyone in Ms. ____'s class should be standing in line for recess." And again. "Anyone sitting here who wants to go play outside needs to go line up." I motioned. I pointed. I got nowhere. Finally I gave up, said they could keep sitting if they didn't want to play, and called the rest of the class. Once the situation progressed to me benching the kids who couldn't follow directions, one of them then immediately ran off to the sandbox.

- Later on, during free play, some voices got too loud. After several warnings about the noise, I finally told one kid with trucks to put them away and read or draw at his desk instead. He looked at me blankly and went back to the trucks. I told him he needed to put them away because he kept shouting when he played with them. He turned his back to me and kept playing. I kept rephrasing my instructions. I pantomimed putting the toys back in their case. He kept ignoring me. Finally, I asked what his name was, to leave a note for his teacher. His response? "Yes." I said, "What is your name?" He said again, "Yes." I told him, "I need you to tell me what your name is." He said, "Okay." I asked again, "What is your name?" He answered again, "Yes." I turned to one of his classmates and asked "Do you know this boy's name?" That kid told me "Yeah, he's Yota." Grasping for any help I could get with this one, I asked if he possibly knew how 'Yota' was spelled. "Sure. It's Yota." Um. "No, I mean the letters. Do you know what letters are in his name? Does his name start with a Y? How do you spell it?" The kid replied, melodramatically, "YO. TA."...slowly emphasizing each syllable so that I, dunce that I am, could get it. (Eventually I tracked down the attendance sheet. The kid's name started with an R, inexplicably, but did contain the letters 'y,' 'o,' 't,' and 'a.')

- The bigger kids were asked to come help move books and got Otter Pops for doing so. After naptime for the little kids ended, they got Otter Pops as well. I had all the kids come outside and asked for a show of hands to see who still needed an Otter Pop. "Okay, if you didn't get a popsicle earlier, raise your hand." Eighteen kindergarten, first, and second grade hands went up. Three kindergarten hands didn't...good old Sandbox Boy, Sit-In Girl, and my best friend there Yota. I gave it three good tries before I finally threw my hands up and said "Okay, looks like eighteen of you want popsicles" and sent a messenger up for 21, just in case. Sure enough, my three best friends sat there looking forlorn after the 18 hand-raisers had gotten theirs. I asked Sandbox if he wanted a popsicle. He said yes. I asked what he needed to do to get one. He said, "Raise my hand," ...and kept sitting there with his hands at his sides.

- The best part of my day: finding out (after the field trip was over and the regular teachers were back) that Yota and Sit-In Girl don't speak more than two words of English ("yes" and "okay" evidently being those two words), and Sandbox isn't too hot with the language either. For some reason, it didn't seem like something I might need to know before spending five hours with them.

I'm going to be overjoyed to spend my entire eight hours tomorrow with my Boot Camp Cadets, aka second graders. They might crush my board game boxes, trample my sandal-wearing feet, and (horror of horrors) mis-shelve my classroom library books (seriously--in what universe does a book called 'Amber, the Orange Fairy' belong in the science section???)...but they at least know that "Yo" and "Ta" are not letters.