Reason #16 They remind us to play

I knew today was going to be an utter failure by 8:31AM. The students entered the door at 8:30AM, and I greeted them while trying to simultaneously enter grades, take attendance, and shush them into submission. It took three quiet signals before the students became quiet, and even then the silence was interrupted by random humming, whistling, a few bird calls (made by students), and an underlying muttering from Quinn that became the soundtrack of our classroom for the next eight hours.

As teachers we create any number of reasons why we have days like these. It's a full moon, they served syrup at breakfast, it was a long weekend, it was a short weekend, it rained, it was sunny, it's hot, the kids are just crazy this year, nobody taught none of these kids any sense, and the list goes on. The truth is, being the only adult in the room, more often than not the blame lies on us. We are the agent of change in the room. We set the tone.

Or, in our classroom, the problem might have been that we missed a prep, had to do standardized testing, and in an effort to cool off the room, we kept the windows and window shades down all day, which is against my general principles on life. People need sun. The walls slowly started closing in on us until we were scratching at the doors and windows to be let out. Children started carving hatch marks into their desks to delineate the endless ocean of time. Misery ensued.

Here's an idea of what happened:

8:30-9:00 Morning Meeting: During our class meeting I had to interrupt the greeting not once, not twice, but eight times to remind the class to be quiet while someone else was sharing. Quinn was sent back to his seat when, after a three second pause for Kylie to think, he called out, "She's too short to talk!"

9:00-9:15 Bathroom Break: During bathroom break Tasha refused to get into the line because she "didn't need to go to no bathroom." This, despite having spent the previous ten minutes complaining about how badly she had to pee, and claiming I was evil for not letting her use the bathroom, even though it was apparent that we were preparing as a classroom to use the lav. When sent back to the room, Tasha decided that she did have to go to the bathroom after all, stomped down the hallway, and started trying to have a conversation with Mary.

Meanwhile, on the way back from the bathroom, Ronald was told to go to his line spot. Instead, he yelled out about how he hated this stupid school. Then, when told to step aside for a teacher conversation, he tried to force his way into the room, only to be blocked in an amazing play by linebacker Swanson. It took ten minutes, a phone call, a pep talk, and some more clever corralling before he was able to return to the room.

You get the point.

It's no big surprise that things were still going poorly by the time math rolled around. I looked into my teacher sleeve of tricks and decided it was time for an energizer. These are short songs or activities that you can do throughout the day that get kids moving and out of their seats. We played "Shark Attack".

Suddenly the mood in the room brightened. Kids started dancing. Sweet little voices sang the tune. Not even Ronald tried to ruin the moment with his usual antics of shouting the lyrics. I looked over at Kylie during my favorite part of the song. Something about the way she swings her tiny hips side to side while pretending to be a California surfer makes me chuckle every time. And there she was, putting as much sass and frass into that move as her three foot frame could muster.

Honestly, the day didn't really get much better. I was close to kicking the kids out the front door by four o'clock. Or I would have been, if they hadn't beaten me to it by running out the main entrance like dogs from an unlatched gate. But in that moment of singing Shark Attack I got a little bit of clarity.

School should be fun. Eight-year-olds need to play. Yes, they need order and structure and routine and good old fashioned discipline, but they also need joy and wonder and curiosity and excitement. My adult mind gets worked into a lather by all the ideas I have to cram into twenty five tiny brains, and sometimes I need to step back and let my kids be kids.

Hopefully tomorrow will be better. But even if it isn't, I am going to work in some more energizers and chances for play. Maybe it's just for my sanity, but I'm pretty sure I wasn't the only one who appreciated our one small sliver of sunshine today.

And if that doesn't work, I have some sick days.