Tuesday, February 9, 2010
This actually did not happen to a student of mine, but it was so entertaining I felt like I had to share it with the larger Internet community. Or the six people that actually read this, half of which are my immediate family members.
A little bit of information before the story starts: the school that I work at is a Title 1 school, which means we, the teachers, are privileged (or required, depending on who you talk to) to do many, many hours of professional development. This often requires us to leave our precious little angels with substitute teachers anywhere from 30 minutes to two hours. You can imagine the kind of shenanigans that occur, especially when us leaving for said meetings has lately become like a bi-weekly occurrence. . .
Side note to this story: The principal came in my room to observe me teaching the other day, and some of the kids automatically assumed that she was there to teach/watch them while I left (they told me this afterwards, thank goodness). I actually think they were a little disappointed that they had to put up with my teaching for the rest of the day.
So, imagine a room full of 5/6 year olds with someone who is not their regular teacher. What would you do? Of course, you would try to get away with everything you KNOW you would not be able to get with if your beloved, regular teacher was present:
Dance in line and in the hallway instead of walking? That's a given.
Steal glue sticks and pencils and anything else you can find that is somewhat inconspicuous and take them home? Why not? Maybe you can sell them to your siblings and friends.
Tell the sub that you ride the bus when you actually are supposed to stay in the after school program? And then end up wandering around your apartment complex by yourself? That's a really good one.
See if you can climb through the hole between the back and the bottom of your chair? Absolutely.
And that is exactly what happened.
To a kindergartener, that small foot of space is apparently THE place to be. If you were of a certain size, wouldn't you want to see if you could fit in such an appealing hole? Wouldn't you want to see if you could actually wear your chair like you wear your clothes? Wouldn't you want your teacher to come back and be absolutely amazed at the feat you just accomplished? Wouldn't you want for all of the custodians and the computer teacher to come in and see if they could figure out a way to get the chair off of you? Because, bonus, it's a really old chair that simply won't come unscrewed.
Maybe other teachers and maybe even the principals would come by to see what you have done! Maybe someone will take a picture of you! Hopefully, if you're lucky, a first grader will stand outside the door and tell everyone who passes by your story—that you have defied the odds. And then, if you are really lucky, perhaps all of the adults in the room will finally come to the conclusion that they are going to have to cut the chair off you, much like victims of car accidents are pried from their vehicles with the Jaws of Life. How cool is that?!? If I were 5 years old, and had my whole life and career in front of me, getting stuck in my chair at school would be a pinnacle experience that I just would not want to miss out on.
One of my favorite sayings is "It's funny because it's true." And all these things are funny, because all these things are 100% true. I love my job.