I see that child - the small one, the clumsy one, the big
one, the shy one, sitting in the corner of my classroom longing for a friend. I know him. He's the child who smiles and laughs at
jokes that are shared at his own expense, the child who is seeking attention,
friendship, acceptance and love.
These are the children that I take particular care with each
year; the ones I try to boost with an offhand positive comment meant for others
to hear. They’re the ones I watch carefully from the corner of my eye, and the
ones I steer gently toward a child or group that I know will accept them as one
of their own.
Each year I search for those souls in my room- they’re not
hard to find. I wrap them as best I can
in my protective arms, all the while hoping that the coming years in school
will treat them well – but knowing in my heart that they may not. I try to show
the rest of the class by example what is important - his character, her humor,
his honesty, her intelligence and his talent.
That child who sits in my room that is too big for his age;
the one who is too shy, too small, too loud or too clumsy? The one who won’t speak, or talks too much or who is much too silly? I know him. I know him intimately.
He’s my child.
My child is the boy who will climb on the roof, fly down the
hill on his bike, climb WAY too far up the tree, but is afraid to participate in
class. My child is the boy who collects
insects in the summer, identifies their tracks, does science experiments in his
room, but hates to read. My child is the
boy who didn’t look where he was going and stumbled over the recycling bin and
fell flat on his face on the first day of school. He's the boy who fell down
the stairs during the first fire drill of the year.
My child is the one who sleeps with the bathroom light on
because he is a little afraid of the dark. My child is the boy whose smile and sense of
humor brighten our lives, but who just can’t keep his mouth shut at
school! He's the one who gets caught by the
teacher but won’t tattle on the other children who have been participating in
whatever mischief has drawn her attention.
As teachers, we know our mission; to ensure each child in
our care makes significant academic progress during the school year. However, we all know our most important
charge of all.
To hold the hand of the child who doesn’t quite fit in, and
gently guide him along the way. And when
he sits up a little straighter, when he laughs a bit louder, and smiles more
often- we know. We KNOW in our hearts
that what we’ve done in that regard is even more important than our original
mission.
We have helped that particular soul be brave enough to fly.
