Many of you have been asking for another chapter in my Final 40 Days in the Classroom book. Here you go! Day 24 - May 23, 2013 Safety in Words and Paper Flowers One of my students has been acting pretty withdrawn lately. I have stopped in a few times to check in on her, in other classrooms, at lunch, and at different points throughout her school day, and it is true - there is definitely something going on out of the norm. Today during independent reading Dee refused to read. Dee is an avid reader, reading close to 2-3 books a week. She will take any recommendations I suggest and give them a test read. And the good news is that she likes most of what I have handed her. She read The Color Purple earlier in the year, and connected with Celie on such a deep level, that it caused me to take note to what else may be going on in her own life. Today Dee is choosing to write in her journal instead of read. While this is fine with me, the school would frown upon a student choosing to write over read during the 25 minute independent reading block that must happen in each of my classes, every day. There was a time I would not allow this, but now, I know better. If the child wants to write, I’m going to let her write. As the class is getting ready to move forward into the lesson, I see Dee saunter toward the pencil sharpener, which is located near my desk. She hesitates for a moment, then drops a piece of paper onto my plan book. I see it, but pretend I don’t, and continue teaching. After class has ended, I wish the students a happy day from the door and walk to my desk. I open the piece of paper. Dee has share this with me: Dear Mrs. Hernandez, I am starving. I haven’t had dinner or breakfast. I was punished again for speaking my mind and standing up for myself. I’m sorry I can’t focus. I’ll keep trying. Love, Dee My heart stops. I know Dee’s story. She was placed in foster care, and the foster mother is rash, judgmental, and cruel. Dee must walk the thinnest line each and every day, not saying or doing one small thing that would upset her foster mom, lest she be punished with the removal of food from her life. My heart goes out to this kid. I walk down the hall, to the art room, where the staff refrigerator is located. I grab my lunch and head back toward the math classroom, pop in next to Dee’s desk and whisper for her to come and visit me for a moment, and head back to my classroom. I spread out a few napkins to create a make-shift table cloth, empty my lunch bag, and make a centerpiece of paper flowers out of tissue paper and a twist tie. We sit down to share a meal together. I give her my orange, peeled, and segmented, my roasted almonds, and my cherry yogurt. And we dine. And in that moment, Dee knows she is loved and valued beyond belief. She is being nourished in body and spirit, and I see a complete transformation in her. She looks at me from across our intimate table and says that she has never had a tablecloth or flowers during a meal. And then she cries because she is so relieved she has found a teacher who is a friend.
Posted on: Wed, 04 Sep 2013 12:15:12 +0000
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