The Vocab Wars: One Successful Skirmish!

It’s that time of the year.  The most wonderful time, according to some.  The most hectic time, according to teachers.

In the three weeks between Thanksgiving and Xmas, we have to train 100 wild creatures to stand tall, suck in their guts, memorize, and sing–not shout, roar, yell, screech, or otherwise mangle–not one but two songs for the holiday concert, in English and Spanish. We have to transform the hangover-green auditorium replete with falling acoustic tiles into a festive, beckoning performance space.  We have to choreograph the routine, decide on costumes, send out letters to parents, prepare accessories, and arrange the wiggly wild things onto exceedingly narrow risers.

Oh yeah.  And then there’s teaching.  And testing.  And more testing.  And preparing winter break homework packets.

In three little weeks.

Yadira, a lanky, lovely gazelle of a 2nd grader, probably the most recently arrived of my Mexican immigrants, came crying to me as we trudged back from holiday concert practice.

Yadira:  Ms. B, Luke punch me in the stomach.

Me:  What?  Where?  Right now?

Yadira:  Jes.  Inside.  In the steps. (On the risers)

Me: On purpose?  A proposito?

Yadira:  Jes.

Now Luke is one of our most upstanding citizens.  The Editor-in-Chief of the class newspaper.  The Reader of 185 words/minute.  The Page of All Office Tasks.  The  Escort to the Vice-Principal of Those Who Misbehave.  Chief Male Bathroom Companion.  Chief Male Nurse Accompanier.  Comprehender of Subtle Nuances in Children’s Literature.

Me (hopefully): It was an accident?

Yadira (sadly): No.

I summon Luke.  I dismiss the rest of the class for recess, though they all would much rather have stayed.  Even children enjoy the Toppling of the Great.

I shut the door (since there are two of them with me, this is allowed).

I seat us all at a children’s table.

Me: Luke, did you punch Yadira?

Luke (matter-of-factly): Yes.

Me (ever hopeful):  Was it an accident?

Luke: No.

I pause to digest this.  It makes no sense.  The two children gaze at me expectantly.

Me: Why?!  What happened?

Yadira: He was talking to Kyle B, and then he turn aroun’ and punch me.

Me (sternly): Luke???

Luke: It’s true.

Me: But why?!

Luke looks at me.  He is tall, droopy, speaks with a bit of a lisp.  He shrugs. There is no explanation. One moment there was a conversation with Kyle B. and the next minute there was a fist popping into Yadira’s stomach.  He denies nothing.

The facts lay there on the table before us.  The children wait patiently.  This is a new script for us all.  No disputes, no he said, she said, are there any other witnesses and let’s summon them.  I sighed and proceeded to improvise.

Me:  Luke, what unit are we studying?

Luke: Kindness, Ms. B.

Me: Do you think what you did to Yadira was kind?

Luke (about to cry): No, Ms. B.  It was not kind at all.  It was cruel.

(I danced a little jig inside at how easily ‘cruel’ slipped from his mouth.)

Me:  Please write Yadira a letter apologizing for your unkind deed.

We’re also working on letters.  This is what teachers call a teachable moment.  Where you coax a whole bunch of different learning objectives out of one unanticipated, real-life experience.

Luke (relieved to have a specific task): Oh yes, Ms. B!!

Me: And, Luke…

Luke (eagerly): Yes Ms. B?

Me:  Please check in with her.  Right now.  Ask her how she’s feeling.

Luke: How are you feeling, Yadira?

Yadira (without hesitation): Glum.

Yes! Another vocab word we’ve been working on!  Internal jig #2.

Luke: I’m so very sorry.

Yadira: Is okay Luke.  Is okay.

And they both scamper off, Yadira to play and Luke to write his apology.

I got a cup of coffee.

We still had miles to go before the day was over.

But at least we had some vocab success behind us.