When I first started teaching, I taught grade six, even though I was trained for high school. It was my way in.
I was way in over my head!
Managing thirty children in a class was like having a birthday party every day for ten months, except…
There was no birthday.
…no balloons.
…no cake.
….no money for cake1 nor balloons.
For that birthday fun I seated them in rows2, had them do math sheets, and then tested their inspired knowledge, while attempting to make it engaging and FUN!
When first starting out, the hardest thing to do was trying to please everyone.
Filling out forms, writing reports, finding rewards, giving rewards…
Calling parents, meetings with parents, joking with parents, sharing with parents…
Using agendas, not using agendas, marking agendas, forgetting agendas…
Collecting donations, counting donations, reminding kids about all those donations…
Collecting canned food, counting canned food, emptying my own cupboards so it didn’t look like I-forgot-to-tell-the kids-about-donating canned food…
Raising money selling stuff you’d never want or need…
Collecting forms for field trips, collecting money for field trips, counting money for field trips, submitting money for field trips, going on field trips, returning from field trips……. recovering from field trips…
Homework, not giving homework, giving too much homework, not giving enough homework…
AHHHHHHHHHH HELLLLPPPPPP!!!!!!!
Homework was the bane of my existence. I still can’t stand homework. I never liked homework as a kid, and I don’t like homework as an adult and homework is just plain——
(Ok, calm down, Michael)…
…Do you want to spend all day at work and then do a couple more hours at home? Nope. Me neither, though I do because I’m a teacher and I know so many others do as well.
But kids? Why? Explain.
Are we training them for the factory?
Do adults work harder because they did a lot of ‘character building homework’ as kids? I doubt it.
But let’s focus on fun. Birthday-like fun.
One day my students asked…
Mr. Florizone, can we get a class pet?
I thought about it… for about .0001 second.
…No. Sorry.
Pleeeeeeease??
…No, we’re not getting a class pet.
They were sad, then I gave them another math sheet and they perked up. (I’m kidding. I probably distracted them with something more fun.)
The next day, I brought a little surprise. I thought it would cheer them up. I was excited. After all, I wanted to please them.
I brought them something special. A class pet! Can you believe it?
I stood in front of the class with a big smile on my face, my hands behind my back.
…Grade six! Hey! Kids! Listen. Shhhh… Stop talking. Ok? Guess what I have!!
What? What is it???
…You won’t believe it…
Now the collective yelling begins. “Whaaaat????? What IS IT Mr. Florizone??”
…I brought you a CLASS PET!
No, you didn’t. You don’t have a pet behind your back, Mr. Florizone!!
…I do.
And I pull my hands out from behind my back and ta-da!
…A PET ROCK!
…Yes, kids, we now have a PET ROCK for our class. And he/she will not need food, no cleaning and easy to take care of! There will be hours of fun with our PET ROCK. BUT…… our pet rock will need care and attention. He/she will need LOVE.
…Here’s the deal. Every weekend we will draw a name for someone to take the pet rock home, and guess what? You get to decorate the pet rock and put googly eyes or hair on it, and have fun with our pet rock. Sound good?
(Pause. I’m quite sure they’re thinking…)
Nahhhhh!!!! That’s stupid, Mr. Florizone. We want a real pet, like a animal.
…No, this pet rock is going to be so much fun. You’ll see.
They thought I was weird but agreed. A few were excited about the geological wonder.
Weekends came and kids took pet rock home, decorating him/her and bringing the rock back looking brand new.
More weekends came and the novelty began to wear off. Pet rock got lonely. So lonely! No love!
Finally, Monday came. First thing in the morning…. two girls came up to me in the hallway.
Mr. Florizone, Mr. Florizone!! Guess what? We brought you a class pet!
…You….. what??
We brought a class pet. A real pet.
…um… wh—what do you mean?
A bunny!
…a….bunny?
It’s in my backpack! We found it in the park.
The girl actually had a pet rabbit in her backpack! A real, living, breathing pet rabbit.
…No! That’s crazy! Take the bunny out in the field right now and let it go.
But Mr. Flor——
…No. Let it go now! Go.
The girls looked deflated. They took the backpack out to the field and let the bunny go. I thought I probably wouldn’t hear much about it again.
But later that day three quarters of the school found out Mr. Florizone told some girls to let their pet bunny escape. Parents even knew about it. No one seemed very happy about it.
Upon finding this out, I called the girl’s parents. Her Mother was relieved to find out about this.
Oh! That’s why she kept asking me for carrots and going up to her room!
Apparently the girl was keeping the rabbit in her closet.
Once I explained to the girls the implications of having a wild animal in a backpack, they began to understand.
Word spread.
By pushing the girls to let it go free …. I guess what I really did was ‘let the bunny out of the bag!’
Happy Belated Easter!
With Gratitude,
Do you know what my yearly budget was for 30 children for a 10 month duration? $100. That’s it. Not per month. For the whole year, for everything. This is why elementary teachers pay for things out of pocket, often.
I soon realized this old school way was not my style at all. I’m not a rows nor a worksheet kind of teacher.
"It's in my back pack"