Separation

Since the separation of church and state in Utah is often, shall we say "tricky" (I was going to say "non-existent", but didn't want to risk exaggeration), I would be surprised if many of you had not had a similar experience to the one I had in my classroom this week.

One of the skills first graders should have by the end of the school year is the ability to recognize pennies, nickels, dimes, and quarters.  To help students with this skill, we introduce the coins one by one, talk about what they're made of, how much they're worth, how many it would take to make a dollar, whose likeness is on the front, and what's depicted on the back.  Here's a brief synopsis of how part of the lesson went yesterday (and how it goes most years):

Mrs. Plant: So we know whose head on the penny, right?
Logan: Abraham Lincoln!  He died.
Mrs Plant: That's correct and also very insightful.  Which president do you think is on the front of the Nickel?
Jonah: President Hinckley!  (For those readers who don't know, this was the former president of the Mormon church).
Mrs. Plant: No, Jonah, President Hinckley was the president of a church, not our country.  That's a good guess though because they were both "presidents."  I'll give you a hint: he was the 3rd president of our country (insert the sound of birds chirping here).  His name was Thomas Jefferson (here there was a brief discussion about this president that none of my students will remember, except maybe that he died).  How about the dime?  Any guesses on which President is on the dime?
Jonah: President Hinckley!
Mrs. Plant: No, Jonah.  As I just explained, President Hinckley was the president of a church, not the United States.  He's not on any of our money.  I'll give you a hint: he was the 32nd president of the United States (insert the sound of crickets chirping here).  Okay, his name was Franklin D. Roosevelt (blah, blah, blah, also dead).  Let's move on to the quarter.  I heard a few of you guess this president when we talked about the other coins.
Stewart: President Hinckley!  (Really?)
Mrs. Plant: No.  Not President Hinckley.  A president of the United States by the name of George Washington - our first president - yep, also deceased.  President Hinckley was the - oh forget it.  Let's just go quietly back to our desks.

Like I said..."tricky".

Mr. Chocolate Bar

When we celebrate birthdays, the students are given the opportunity to bring a small bag containing a few of their favorite things to show to the class.  Generally in any given school year I see a variety of small toys, stuffed animals, medals, trophies, pictures, video games - nothing extraordinarily exciting, to be honest.  I try my best to appear blown away by the coolness of their stuff - as if it's the first time in my life I've ever seen a Transformer or Hello Kitty Purse; however, if I were to be truthful, in my seven years of teaching there has only ever been one object pulled from a bag that was truly awesome...

Mr. Chocolate Bar.

As Debi showed us the things from her bag, I was in my "try-to-look-interested" auto mode when she pulled out a Hershey's chocolate bar.  I admit it did grab my attention a little, as would chocolate at any other moment of any given day or night.  What I did not understand in that moment was that this particular candy bar was exceptional.

"This is Mr. Chocolate Bar." Debi explained as the melted chocolate bar flopped over in her hand like a dead fish.  "Hi!  I'm Mr. Chocolate Bar!" she responded in her best chocolate bar voice while at the same time flopping and unflopping the bar to imitate the movement of a mouth.  The class was stunned and I can't say I blamed them.  I'd never seen chocolate talk either. 

After our introduction to Debi's friend, her mom, looking less than thrilled by her daughter's choice in playmates, gave a brief synopsis of how Mr. Chocolate Bar spent his afternoons; propped up on the couch watching the boob tube with Debi, enjoying the talk at the dinner table with the fam, listening to bedtime stories in Debi's lap, and cradled in Debi's arms as she drifted off to dream land.  Then, every morning, it was back to the freezer for Mr. Chocolate Bar where he would harden up and anxiously await Debi's return from school later that day. 

You know those times when you must laugh, but you know it's just not appropriate?  Yeah.  This was one of those times.  I feel I held myself together pretty well under the circumstances, but I've been laughing ever since.

Up until this moment in my life, I can't say it had ever occurred to me to use chocolate as anything other than dessert (or breakfast, depending on the day).  And I had certainly never considered the idea of chocolate - or any other food - as a companion.  But this story is just one example of why I love how I spend my days.  I get to explore ideas from angles I never knew existed.

After exploring this particular idea, I decided that my personal preference is still to eat chocolate.  Not hang out with it.

Old Blue Eyes

Josh made this fantastic piece of art for me.

It's a girl with four eyes.

Obviously.

Five Step Program

I am patient.  I believe it is necessary in order to survive in this profession.  I must admit, however, that there are times when I reach a breaking point.  For these rare occasions I have developed a five step program to help me through without destroying school property or harming children.  It goes like this:

Step One: I cease all communication.
Step Two: I look toward the ceiling in hopes that the gods of education will shine down on me with everlasting solutions to the chaos before me.
Step Three: Once absolutely positive that there are no gods of education shining down with anything remotely helpful, I dramatically hide my face with my hands and pretend I am somewhere else.
Step Four: Whilst hiding, I take several moments to purge my mind of the various expletives that have taken root while at the same time letting out an audible moan.
Step Five:  Slowly, I remove my hands from my face, hoping that my students have witnessed steps one through four and have corrected their behavior on their own.

(Note: To date, this five step program has proven ineffective.)

A couple weeks ago I was on step four, mentally preparing myself for the big reveal of step five, when I heard a voice only inches away from my hiding place, 

"Mrs. Plant, you look really beautiful today."  I peeked through my fingers to find Ella, a genuine gap-toothed smile gracing her innocent face.  "That green is a good color on you."

In a split-second the program, and my reasons for embarking on it, had dissipated into thin air. 

Forget five step programs when sincere flattery is an option; especially when it comes from a 6 year-old.

Harm

In order to write a good story in first grade, you must have the following elements: a catchy title, an attention-grabbing beginning, a middle with interesting details, and an ending that brings closure or solves the problem of the story.  With these points in mind, I'd like to share with you a story by Ben (the spelling has not been changed).  See if you can pinpoint each of the aforementioned elements with me.

The Battle In Space (catchy)

There was a battle and who'd win between marshans and aleins? (My attention was grabbed.  Yours?) Floated over a blackhole, fighting, shooting, and harm. Because the losers will fall. (Whoa.  And here come those details I mentioned.) And weapons, bows, arrows, clubs, boomerangs, spiny balls, forts, bases, bombs, swords, guns, planes (oh, we're not done), wood weapons, fireballs, fire, hot wood, metal balls the problem is solved! (Wait, what?)  They need weapons!  (Ah, I see now.) Then the fight began.  They had a hard time getting organized. (Well, I'm not at all surprised, what with all those weapons to sort through.)

And that's how it ends. Leaving the reader begging for more.

Overall, Ben's story is right on target.  I'd just like to know who won - Marshans or Aleins? 

I'm betting it was whoever had the hot wood.

Aw Nuts

We read a story in first grade entitled Lost! It's about a boy who meets up with a big grizzly bear that has managed to get himself lost (thus the title) in the middle of the city. Understandably, the bear is very upset and confused. Honestly, what bear wouldn't be given this situation? The boy, being the good Samaritan he is, makes it his responsibility to help the bear find its home in the forest.

Naturally, after the class has read this timeless adventure, in an attempt to make the story more memorable, I ask the thought-provoking question that all students should be required to ponder: What would you do if you came face to face with a bear in the city? Standard answers include: I would help the bear get home, I would be scared, or I would be the bear's friend, among other similar variations of the same answers.

This was the case until Christian came along.

Christian was a pint-sized kid with a gallon-sized attitude (he once threatened me with "a power of attorney"). Christian was intelligent. And Christian was not to be wooed by some make-believe story about a boy and his bear friend like those other naive 6 year-olds. No.

"Christian?" I asked when he raised his hand. "What would you do if you came face to face with a bear?"

"KICK HIM IN THE NUTS AND RUN!" he shouted, pride written straight across his sunburnt face.

And what could I say? The boy was right. We really shouldn't be teaching students to approach bears, should we?