MASTERING THE FINE ART OF FRIENDSHIP
In the world of education, the closer you get to a school break, the more student behavior deteriorates, to the point that you are left wondering if someone has come and switched your children in the night ... like some weird body snatching incident or something. Fourth graders that would never, ever be mean or cruel, suddenly morph into some sort of mutant Disney "bad guy" and stomp their way around the classroom, hell bent on destruction.
It's at times like these that I really wonder why I'm not an alcoholic, because it's at times like these that I really, really, really want to drink ... lots and lots and lots of alcohol.
Today was just such a day, and I was blessed to have a student teacher observe the whole grand loveliness unfold. Isn't that special?
It started this morning, when a student leader decided that he was going to begin teasing another student and try to get the rest of his small reading group involved as well. Before it was all said and done, I was seriously crabby, and all my kids were gathered around me listening to yet another lecture on bullying and being good friends.
I falsely assumed that someone among us had taken the lecture to heart. Such is the way of assumptions, because at recess today, four of my boys ganged up on one of my other boys ... four of my good boys ... four of my student leader boys.
Torqued doesn't even come close to describing what I felt like when I heard the details.
I set them out in the hallway, told them they were going to figure out what it meant to be a friend, and devise a plan for being better friends to this boy. I told them I was setting the timer for 10 minutes, and if I came out and didn't like the plan, I would be calling parents because, and I quote, "I've had it with this silly crap!"
Then I shut my door and commenced to teaching 3 dimensional shapes.
My teammate, Stephanie, told me later that she walked by and asked them all why they were sitting in the hallway chatting.
"We're mastering the fine art of friendship," was their reply!
And so, they apparently had, because all five of them decided on these terms:
It's at times like these that I really wonder why I'm not an alcoholic, because it's at times like these that I really, really, really want to drink ... lots and lots and lots of alcohol.
Today was just such a day, and I was blessed to have a student teacher observe the whole grand loveliness unfold. Isn't that special?
It started this morning, when a student leader decided that he was going to begin teasing another student and try to get the rest of his small reading group involved as well. Before it was all said and done, I was seriously crabby, and all my kids were gathered around me listening to yet another lecture on bullying and being good friends.
I falsely assumed that someone among us had taken the lecture to heart. Such is the way of assumptions, because at recess today, four of my boys ganged up on one of my other boys ... four of my good boys ... four of my student leader boys.
Torqued doesn't even come close to describing what I felt like when I heard the details.
I set them out in the hallway, told them they were going to figure out what it meant to be a friend, and devise a plan for being better friends to this boy. I told them I was setting the timer for 10 minutes, and if I came out and didn't like the plan, I would be calling parents because, and I quote, "I've had it with this silly crap!"
Then I shut my door and commenced to teaching 3 dimensional shapes.
My teammate, Stephanie, told me later that she walked by and asked them all why they were sitting in the hallway chatting.
"We're mastering the fine art of friendship," was their reply!
And so, they apparently had, because all five of them decided on these terms:
- They weren't going to play unfair teams any more.
- If they discovered that there are unfair teams, they would cease playing the game and find something to play that didn't require teams.
- They apologized to the boy that they ganged up on.
- They will cease using smack talk.
- They decided that since that one boy worked so hard at the game, and they chose to gang up on him, they would each pay him five Cadet Bucks.
Our own little fourth grade peace treaty! I am impressed ... until someone acts like a goober tomorrow.
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