I'm The Student Now

I love being pleasantly surprised. Last Wednesday I was called in to be a substitute and rather than teach the kids, I learned a few things myself.

I got the call Tuesday evening asking if I could sub for a first grade class in the afternoon. Afternoons are tricky for me because Aimee only goes to school from 8:30 a.m. to 12:15 p.m. and Lily gets home at the same time the first grade lets out (in my town the kindergarten and first grade are in one school and the elementary – grades 2 through 5 – is divided into three different schools). I called everyone I could imagine to help me: I called a former teacher at Aimee’s school but she was busy. She called a friend of hers but that woman’s car was in the shop. I called a former nanny I knew, I called friends who might be free and, eventually, I called a neighbor who lives down the block (who happens to reads this blog). A while back she had offered to help me out if I was ever in a jam and I called her on her offer. She immediately agreed to wait for Lily after school and hang out with her until I got home and I am forever grateful. (Thank you again, MLK. You were truly a lifesaver).

Insisting on looking a gift horse in the mouth I brought Aimee to school and begged them to let her stay there all day. “No problem,” the director said.

“Um, and I might be a few minutes late picking her up,” I said sheepishly.

“That should be fine,” he said.

I breathed a huge sigh of relief.

When I mentioned the plan to Lily in the morning, she said, “But are you still going to take us to tennis in the afternoon?”

Right. Because why would my life run smoothly?

I went early to the school and familiarized myself with the lesson plan. The teacher was incredibly organized and wrote the day’s schedule by time. The assistant teacher, who is also a special education teacher, was with me the entire day, as well as a helper who was assigned to four of the children.

“This is an inclusion class,” the assistant teacher told me.

What she meant by that was this: our education center has a preschool for normally developing kids as well as children who have behavioral and developmental issues. By the time they reach kindergarten the special education children are integrated into the public school system (and often assigned helper and/or assistant teachers). I happened to get one of the classes with several special education children.

Talk about being thrown into the deep end.

After spending some time in the classroom and watching the assistant teacher deal with the kids, I couldn’t believe what I was feeling inside. Rather than get annoyed when a child spoke loudly out of turn or could not sit still, I became sympathetic; empathetic even. I saw these children – all of them, actually – in a whole new light. They were little. I mean really little. My eldest child is only a year older and I can see how much more mature someone her age is from these kids. When they struggled I was overwhelmed with the urge to comfort and help them. When they got out of hand I used what I had learned from being in the school when Lily was in kindergarten and first grade: an “I” message.

For example, when I was reading a book and a boy kept talking to his friend, I said, “Dan, when you talk while I’m reading I feel ignored. How can we solve this problem?”

Dan looked at me and said, “Stop talking?"

“Yes,” I said. “Thanks for solving the problem.”

It worked!

I thought being around those kids and using every ounce of patience would make me grouchy when I got around my own kids. Quite the opposite happened. Because I was in the habit of being understanding and calm, I behaved that way around my daughters. Both of my girls were really tired (I actually did make it home to take them to tennis) and when Aimee threw a fit I calmly dropped down to her level and spoke very quietly. I told her I understood how she was feeling and wanted to help. I gently took her hand and said, “I know you’re a big girl and always get your pajamas on by yourself, but if you want me to help you today, I would love to.”

She nodded and stopped crying.

I won’t lie – I was exhausted after I put the kids to bed. But I felt good about myself and what I had learned. I also liked working outside the house and the feeling of being a contributor, even if I wasn’t bringing in the big bucks.

I really enjoyed that day. I hope there are many more to come.

Photo by Sergio Roberto Bichara, courtesy of stock.xchng