Never a Dull Moment

Here’s a sneak peek into my classroom this past week...

Ere Zij God

We begin every morning with singing.  We usually sing three or four songs which are chosen by the students.  On Monday morning, one of the students chose the Christmas carol ‘Ere Zij God’, or ‘Glory to God’.  This was unusual not only because we were in the middle of January, but also because none of the kids know Dutch.

I had to bite my cheeks to keep from smiling as I suggested we sing the English version of the carol, but the students insisted that we sing the carol in all of its Dutch glory.  And so we began our week with ‘Ere Zij God’.

Risk

Winter is a great time for board games.  A group of boys in my class pulled out Risk two weeks ago and are still playing.  The rules have been modified somewhat and alliances have been forged.  Recesses have become intense strategy sessions.  For those of you who are not familiar with this Risk, the point of the game is world domination.  To achieve this end, players must build up their armies and strategically attack continents and take over countries. 

Risk games usually do not last for two weeks.  Because of their huge armies and their intricate alliances, one false move will plunge the entire board into a total war.  I have a feeling they will have a déjà vu moment when they study the causes of World War I.

The board is so full of little plastic armies that you can’t see the borders of the countries anymore.  Reagan and Gorbachev would be in awe of this arms race.  I’m waiting for the final battle to happen and am expecting it to happen sometime late next week.  It will either end with an epic struggle or they will simply run out of playing pieces.  Hard to say.  

High School Day

The students have been very excited for ‘high school day’.  The middle school will be spending the day in the high school wing where they will be experiencing life as a high school student.  Why are they so excited?  You would think it would be because of the change of scenery, the new classrooms, the high school gym, the science lab, or the high school style classes, but you would be wrong.  They are the most excited about being allowed to have their shirts hanging out.  It doesn’t get any better than that.

Never a dull moment.

A Tale of Two Sisters

We are currently studying Charles Dicken’s A Christmas Carol at school.  It is one of my favourite pieces of literature and is from one of my favourite periods in history.  Dickens was a masterful writer and wrote many other classics besides A Christmas Carol.  After recently reading about Dickens and some snippets of his popular works, I was reminded of a little Dickensian episode that occurred many years ago.  I was in university where I was trying to become an intellectual (fun fact: still trying).  I had just discovered the Industrial Revolution and this amazing period of British history, when one day at home, the world of Dickens became real to me.

 “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.”  It was a tumultuous time in the Slingerland household.  For some reason that is not known (well I’m sure there is a reason but I didn’t try to find out) it came to be that my two younger sisters, Ally and Becky, were to have their wisdom teeth pulled on the same day.  Perhaps mother found a two-for-one coupon for wisdom teeth pulling.  There was no doubt however, that this was going to be a traumatic event for the girls and for everyone in the home.  Extensive preparations were made.  A gigantic bed was made in the basement in front of the TV.  Anne of Green Gables and Maria Von Trapp were on standby.  Kleenex and pain killers were ready at the bedside.  Jello and pudding were setting in the fridge.  

The day of the appointment arrived and the girls headed out to the mini-van.  Mom gave me some instructions before she shuttled the girls over to the doctor’s office.  “When I get back, you’ll have to help me bring the girls into the house and down to the basement.”  I told her that I would clear my schedule and do my brotherly duty.  In truth, I was looking forward to some excitement and drama.

Later that day...

The mini-van pulled into the driveway and came to a halt by the front sidewalk.  The garage door was opened remotely and Mom got out and went to the passenger side and opened the front door of the van.  She put her hand around Ally’s shoulders and guided her to the house.  Ally’s face was as white as snow, or as Dickens would say, ‘as white as the ghost of Christmas past’.  Mom expertly steered Alison through the garage and into the house.  I helped Mom from there and together we laid Ally down on the couch.  Things looked pretty grim.  I briefly thought about getting a pen and paper for a last will and testament.  Her eyelids fluttered and her mouth was completely swollen.  A solitary tear rolled down her face and then veered off to the side when it hit her chipmunk cheek.  

Our thoughts turned to Becky.  While I checked Ally’s pulse, Mom went back out to the van to get Becky.  Mom slid the side door open and guided Becky out.  I expected to see an ashen and morose Becky emerge from the van, but to my surprise, she just about rolled out of the van.  Even more astonishing was that Becky was laughing hysterically.  Mom propelled goofy Becky into the house and onto the other couch.  

The girls eventually made their way down to their basement bed where they began to watch inordinate amounts of Anne of Green Gables.  When that series was finished, The Sound of Music was slid into the overworked DVD player.  The entire house was then treated to the yodelling of a lonely goat-herd.  

The girls were not quite themselves throughout this healing process.  Becky giggled, laughed, sniggered, cackled, chortled, chuckled, guffawed, and hooted her way to getting better over the next couple of days.  Even when she was in pain, she was laughing.  Ally sniveled, whimpered, bawled, sobbed, and wept her way to getting better.  They made quite the pair – like yin and yang, black and white, or Bert and Ernie.

Besides the DVD’s, we did play a lot of Monopoly.  Because I wasn’t on heavy pain killers, I had a bit of a mental edge on the girls.  

“Hey Becky, look how pretty the purple stripe on Baltic Ave is!  Why don’t you give me Marvin Gardens and I’ll give you Baltic.” 

“Thanks Greg!”  Becky giggled.

 Alison mustered enough strength to give the dice a good toss.  She was rewarded with the ‘free parking’ spot and the jackpot.  As she collected her money, the ‘waterworks’ were turned on.  “I don’t know why I’m crying!” she said.  

Becky rolled the dice and moved the dog along the board.  The dog stopped on my ‘Parkplace’, which also had a nice little hotel on it.  I was pretty impressed with how Becky laughed it off.  I was laughing too. 

Both girls successfully recovered from the trauma of wisdom teeth extraction and were soon back to their normal selves.  To the relief of everyone, Anne of Green Gables and Maria Von Trapp were put back into their cases and left to collect dust.  It truly was the best and worst of times.  The worst in that the girls experienced a lot of pain, Matthew from Anne of Green Gables died (by my count at least 7 times), the Nazi’s annexed Austria, and then there were the crushing Monopoly defeats.  And the best of times, in that the girls did get to spend a lot of time with each other, watched as Anne was accepted by Marilla (by my count at least 7 times), the Von Trapp Singer’s victory at the Salzburg Music Festival, and the privilege of playing Monopoly with their older brother. 

The Vaccine Scene

Shortness of breath, cold sweat, clammy palms, and dizziness were the symptoms my students were experiencing one morning a couple of weeks ago.  Eyes were wild and darted around the room looking for a quick escape option.  Comforting hands were plied to backs and consoling words were spoken.  

It was vaccination day.

I felt bad for them and searched for words to comfort them.  No words came.  What good things can be said about getting a needle? (I guess in hindsight, I could have mentioned that it would most likely prevent them from getting a disease).

One student raised his hand.

“Does getting the needle hurt?”

“Well, it won’t be too bad.  Your arm will feel like you have been punched or had a bad Charlie horse.” I replied matter-of-factually.

A student in the front row let out an unearthly groan and put his head down in despair.

“My mom told me it would tickle!” said one student.

“My mom told me I wouldn’t even feel it!” countered someone else.

Our discussion of pain was interrupted by a knock on the door.  I opened the classroom door to find a nurse in floral scrubs waiting outside.  She handed me a list of students who were getting the injection and in what order they should come.

It was at that point that I knew that my lesson had no chance of competing with needles.

“It’s time.”  I said gravely.  All of the students knew what I was referring too.

I pointed to the first two students on the list and told them to make their way to the make-shift nurses’ station in the kitchen.  Some of the remaining students solemnly waved goodbye.  Others silently mouthed ‘goodbye’ or ‘you were a good friend’ or ‘can I have your sparkly pencil if you don’t come back?’

The first two students bravely stood up, took a deep breath, braced themselves, and strode out of the room.  

After about five minutes one of the students returned – alone.  The students anxiously asked him where the other student was.

“He fainted in the hallway.  I tried to catch him, but I dropped him.”

I jumped up and ran to the hallway, but was relieved to see the nurses helping the student back to the kitchen.

“Who’s next?” I asked the class.  The students sank lower in their desks, avoided all eye contact and suddenly seemed very interested in the weave of the carpet.

I selected two more students. They solemnly left the room and headed for the kitchen.  I and the rest of the students were relieved to see them return after a few minutes.  Their arms were tender, but they seemed okay. The next two were sent.

To my dismay, only one returned.  

“What happened?” I asked exasperatedly.

“She fainted in the kitchen and threw up.” replied her partner.  More anguished groans from the class.

This was getting intense.  That kitchen was quickly turning into a triage unit.

I turned to the class and addressed them in a Churchillian manner.  “I am sure she will be okay.  Just relax and take a deep breath.  You’ll be just fine.”  

“My mom said that this morning too!” said one student accusingly.  

The needles continued, and were done by the morning.  Our casualty rate climbed to three.   Two students went home early to recover from the effects.

My mantra “never a dull moment as a teacher” was never truer then that fall morning.  I haven’t had the heart yet to tell the class that the nurses will be back in April for round two.  Stay tuned...