Sozlet stories

Sozobe,

#6 is definitely distracting! I remember that this was frequently this case with me as a young kid. My body would be telling me that I needed to go, but I'd override the message because I was so interested in doing or thinking about something that I wouldn't accept being interrupted until I was desperate. Our younger daughter did this all the time. I think a lot of bright kids do.

#1 and #4 tend to be interrelated in lively, smart children. Because they are so deeply fascinated by the world and by their minds, they want to stay up for more input, and they also sometimes have trouble shutting down their minds for the night.

#4 can be problematic, but only if it happens a lot and/or it's an upsetting kind of boredom. Being bored is, alas, part of life. I've never met anyone, no matter how clever, who could avoid boredom altogether. When bright kids--adults, too--become bored, they tend to abstract themselves and "trip." Their minds are merely scanning for something interesting, and, while this is going on, they don't pay much attention to fine motor skills. Chewing all that mental gum and walking at the same time--that's tough!

We got more than 20 inches of snow and have been having a blast. Today we went to the Big Sledding Hill. (We'd done some more minor sledding yesterday.) It's big and it's fast. Some teenagers had constructed a jump on one side of the hill -- a skateboard jump that they packed snow around. It's a big/ broad hill so that wasn't really a big deal, littler kids just stayed away from that part.

One teenager went ahead and tried it -- he was on an innertube and he flew up, the innertube flew up, but he was higher than the innertube and wasn't holding on tight enough so he flailed around a bit in the air (must've been 10 feet up, was up there for a while) and then landed on the snow, not the innertube. He was down for a while and got up slow but seemed OK. Nobody else really wanted to try it after that, though. They kind of hung around and packed more snow around it and talked about it, but they weren't using it.

Meanwhile, sozlet was interested in going down on her own for the first time. I gave her steering directions, she went down the hill, did a good job, she had SO MUCH FUN. Loved it.

Came back up, went back down.

Both times she pretty much got in a good track and didn't have to steer much.

Third time, she veered. She wasn't steering. Things were happening fast. She got closer to the jump. I was too far away to do anything. I yelled "your heel!!!!" as a reminder of one way to steer. Nothing happened. She got closer.

And she went over the jump.

Oh. My. God.

It was really far. She was way high in the air. She spun. My heart was in my throat.

She landed, bounced, slid, bounced, came to a stop... everyone watched her to see if she was OK.

Then she bounced back up and grinned and everyone applauded, especially the teenagers. ("Sweet!!")

She ran back up the hill (the jump was about halfway down and she stopped not far past it) with the biggest grin ever.

Then sat in the soft snow for a while to give her butt some time to recover. (At first she said she was completely fine, then admitted to a sore butt.)

I don't see any black and blue marks or anything, she seems to really be OK.

Yay for puffy snowpants.

She just read the account -- I asked her if it was accurate and she said yes. Then she got a happy/ dreamy look and said "that was seriously fun when I was spinning around in the air..." (Me: "No, you're NOT doing it again...")

My heart almost stopped reading this, so I can imagine how you felt
when she was up in the air. Thank goodness nothing happened. She's
a real daring, adventurous girl

Whew!!



(time for a steering committee...)

WOW! The time she was in the air must have seemed like forever. You can now tell her that there's never any need to do another flight. Sozlet has just established major street cred with the toughest audience, the teenagers. So has your son. This pairing is even cooler: it suggests that deep sang-froid runs in the veins of your offspring.

Next up: bungee jumping and paragliding.

Shhh...! Don't give her any ideas...


This poor kid.

I picked her up from school and she was clearly out of sorts. She was definitely in "tripping on another planet" mode and was making all kinds of mistakes and getting frustrated. (She couldn't get the door shut, she couldn't get her backpack off, etc., etc.) When we got home I said I could tell she needed some TLC -- to which she nodded morosely -- and settled in on the couch to find out What Was Wrong.

Answer: everything.

First, her mood indicated to me that someone had gotten mad at her, quite possibly for good reason. I hazarded a guess -- had A gotten mad at her today? (Some backstory there, related to earlier posts about reading with the second-graders. A is very competitive and had earlier convinced sozlet that she, A, was in the top reading group and sozlet's reading group was the second-best. Sozlet accepted that. Then it turned out it wasn't true, and that further sozlet was the only one reading with second-graders, and evidently A isn't totally happy about that. Sniffily announcing that "I could do it if I wanted to," that sort of thing. They started sitting at the same table around when sozlet started the new reading situation and there's been some snippiness.)

Yes, A had gotten mad at her today. This one is complicated to explain -- basically, sozlet was being a spaz during a writing assignment and bothering everyone else and they (3 other kids) moved to a different table. Sozlet wasn't good about taking responsibility there. ("What, I was just looking back and forth, what's the big deal?")

So O and J had gotten mad at her too. I jokingly asked, "What about K?" Yep, she'd gotten mad because sozlet had beaten her at a board game during indoor recess. "Um, T?" Yes, she was mad because sozlet had arranged to play with K instead of her and T wanted to play with her. "A2?" Yes, sozlet had accidentally knocked over her toy. (At this point I couldn't quite hold in my incredulous laughter -- everyone I was coming up with had gotten mad at her!!! This built as it continued, despite my best efforts and her glares.)

"C?" Yes, because she asked sozlet to fall backwards and she'd catch her and sozlet did but she fell "too hard" <air quotes> and hurt C. "J?" Yes, they'd played kickball in gym and she accidentally kicked the ball so it bounced off of something and barely got J on the shoulder but he immediately started crying. "N?" Yes, because she hurt C.

"Miss Teacher?" Yes, because sozlet had used too many capitals in her sentences (she gets lazy about this, she knows what to do but she doesn't). "Mr. Gym Teacher?" Yes, because she hurt J.

I asked if she'd had her snack today. (She gets punchy if she doesn't have enough food.) No, she didn't like any of the options. (I'd packed 1 new thing and there were 2 leftover things -- all individually wrapped on the order of cereal bars, not rotten fruit or something.) What was for lunch? Well... evidently she hadn't had lunch. At all. She was in the bathroom the whole time (another element of punchiness/ planet-tripping).

At this point I fed her. After she ate I kept asking about various classmates and this went on and on for EVERY SINGLE PERSON I ASKED ABOUT. And I think she was serious, too. ("M?" "I sat on his blankie -- but it was UNDER THE CARPET!!!!" [He's in the process of being weaned off of the blankie, evidently, and a stage is that it's under the carpet -- he knows it's there and that's a comfort, even if it can't be seen]. "E?" "He was mad I wouldn't play with him at indoor recess." "J?" "I was being silly and kind of sleepwalking and I *touched* her butterfly and she went AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!! <loud, long scream> like an absolute Tasmanian Devil!!" Etc. Etc.)

I asked her if this had ever happened before -- so many people getting mad at her -- and she shook her head with the biggest, saddest eyes you've ever seen.

I noticed some themes and tried to give her some advice but she wasn't having it. Too sad/ frustrated. We hung out a bit more, she had some more food, she drank more water, she calmed down more, and I managed to get the idea in that she should probably put more emphasis on apology and less on "it was an accident!!" I've noticed that too, if she's being sloppy she seems to think that lack of malice aforethought should excuse everything, when sloppiness can be a problem in and of itself.

She took that to heart I think.

Now she's happily reading Tintin (recent addiction).

What a day!

By the way, this:



is probably part of the general problem. They haven't had a proper outdoor recess in forever due to the weather. Everyone seems grumpy and out of sorts. Ready for spring!

god ur so lucky.

I agree, she's very lucky. (Even if she did get rear-ended yesterday.)

I wasn't feeling particularly lucky when I wrote that!

I know I am, though, thanks!

I volunteered in sozlet's class a bit ago, and have also spoken to a mom who recently volunteered, and some things are becoming a bit more clear...


I don't know if anyone remembers that earlier on in the year there was a boy (C) in sozlet's class who had some sort of issues -- perhaps autism -- who really disrupted the class on an ongoing basis.

After a couple of months, he was moved to another school that could better serve his needs, and seems to really be doing well there.

Meanwhile sozlet's class had 18 kids instead of 20 (another kid just happened to move for other reasons), and was also a bit weighed towards "low-maintenance" kids. That is, the original class make-up was intended to balance out C -- who was known to be a Handful -- and when he left they were off-balance, towards low-maintenance.

Nothing wrong with that.

Well, just as C was moved from our school to another that could better meet his needs, J was moved TO our school from another, shortly after Christmas. He's now in sozlet's class.

I hadn't heard much about him -- I knew he had a rough start but when I asked sozlet how he was doing she'd usually say, "Better..."

Then I volunteered, and discovered that he's another major disruption. Dang.

I was in charge of an activity out in the hall. It was an (educational) board game, and I said youngest goes first. Well that meant that he didn't get to go first. He had a FIT. Crying, screaming, yelling, whole nine yards. I double and triple checked that it was just because he couldn't go first, not that there was some other problem. Yep, he just HATED not going first. It made him SO MAD.

I was unimpressed and basically ignored him. Certainly didn't give in, which he seemed to find kind of shocking.

Because of that (the "she's not caving??" glances he'd shoot me between his fingers as he sobbed into his hands) I wondered if he was being (inappropriately) coddled, and so was interested in what would happen when later (he was acting up throughout) he appealed to the teacher for something. Her response was an (entirely appropriate IMO), "J, knock it off."

I'd noticed that she was just kind of looking besieged in general. She's always low-key, but she just wasn't really smiling and generally seemed overwhelmed.

The next day I talked to another mom who said that yeah, J is pretty much always like that and is driving the teacher up a tree. And this is a hard-to-rattle teacher.

The whole class seemed just kind of off -- I think J is both a) affecting the mood of the class with his own outbursts and b) affecting the mood of the teacher which c) in and of itself affects the mood of the class. Everyone seems on edge.

Plus, as always, sozlet sees a problem (J) and wants to solve it. This has its good and bad elements. I like that she is so caring -- she has in fact befriended him and is about the best able to get him on an even keel -- but I don't want her to feel that it's her responsibility. We've talked about that a bit.

Hopefully spring break will help.

As she stood in front of her 5th grade class on the very first day of
school, she told the children an untruth. Like most teachers, she looked at
her students and said that she loved them all the same. However, that was
impossible, because there in the front row, slumped in his seat, was a
little boy named Teddy Stoddard.

Mrs. Thompson had watched Teddy the year before and noticed that he did not
play well with the other children, that his clothes were messy and that he
constantly needed a bath. In addition, Teddy could be unpleasant. It got to
the point where Mrs. Thompson would actually take delig ht in marking his
papers with a broad red pen, making bold X's and then putting a big "F" at
the top of his papers.

At the school where Mrs. Thompson taught, she was required to review each
child's past records and she put Teddy's off until last. However, when she
reviewed his file, she was in for a surprise.

Teddy's first grade teacher wrote, "Teddy is a bright child with a ready
laugh. He does his work neatly and has good manners... he is a joy to be
around.."

His second grade teacher wrote, "Teddy is an ex cellent student, well liked
by his classmates, but he is troubled because his mother has a terminal
illness and life at h ome mu st be a struggle."

His third grade teacher wrote, "His mother's death has been hard on him. He
tries to do his best, but his father doesn't show much interest, and his
home life will soon affect him if some steps aren't taken."

Teddy's fourth grade teacher wrote, "Teddy is withdrawn and doesn't show
much interest in school. He doesn't have many friends and he sometimes
sleeps in class."

By now, Mrs. Thompson realized the problem and she was ashamed of herself.
She felt even worse when her students brought her Christmas presents,
wrapped in beautiful ribbons and bright paper, except for Teddy's. His
present was clumsily wrapped i n the heavy, brown paper that he got from a
grocery bag. Mrs. Thompson took pains to open it in the middle of the other
presents. Some of the children started to laugh when she found a rhinestone
bracelet with some of the stones missing, and a bottle that was one-quarter
full of perfume. But she stifled the children's laughter when she exclaimed
how pretty the bracelet was, putting it on, and dabbing some of the perfume
on her wrist. Teddy Stoddard stayed after school that day just long enough
to say, "Mrs. Thompson, today you smelled just like my Mom used to."

After the children left, she cried for at least an hour. On that very day,
she quit teaching reading, writing and arithmetic. Instead, she began to
teach children. Mrs. Thompson paid particular attention to Teddy. As she
worked with him, his mind seemed to come alive. The more she encouraged him,
the faster h e resp onded. By the end of the year, Teddy had become one of
the smartest children in the class and, despite her lie that she would love
all the children the same, Teddy became one of her "teacher's pets.."

A year later, she found a note under her door, from Teddy, telling her that
she was the best teacher he ever had in his whole life.

Six years went by before she got another note from Teddy. He then wrote that
he had finished high school, third in his class, and she was still the best
teacher he ever had in life.

Four years after that, she got another letter, saying that while things had
been tough at times, he'd stayed in school, h ad stu ck with it, and would
soon graduate from college with the highest of honors. He assured Mrs.
Thompson that she was still the best and favorite teacher he had ever had in
his whole life.

Then four more years passed and yet another letter came. This time he
explained that after he got his bachelor's degree, he decided to go a little
further. The letter explained that she was still the best and favorite
teacher he ever had. But now his name was a little longer.... The letter was
signed, Theodore F. Stoddard, MD.

The story does not end there. You see, there was yet another letter that
spring Teddy said he had met this girl and was going to be married. He
explained that his father had died a couple of years ago and he was
wondering if Mrs. Thompson might agree to sit at the wedding in the place
that was usually reserved for the mother of the groom. Of course, Mrs.
Thompson did. And guess what? She wore that bracelet, the one with several
rhinestones missing. Moreover, she made sure she was wearing the perfume
that Teddy remembered his mother wearing on their last Christmas together.

They hugged each other, and Dr. Stoddard whispered in Mrs. Thompson's ear,
"Thank you Mrs. Thompson for believing in me. Thank you so much for making
me feel important and showing me that I could make a difference."

Mrs. Thompson, with tears in her eyes, whispered back. She said, "Teddy, you
have it all wrong. You were the one who taught me that I could make a
difference. I didn't know how to teach until I met you."

(For you that don't know, Teddy Stoddard is the Dr. at Iowa Methodist in Des
Moines that has the Stoddard Cancer Wing.)

One of the more secret areas of school administration has to do with turfing out "troublesome" kids--of any age. Of course, some students are sent to another school because they have special medically-defined needs that can be better met elsewhere. However, a significant number of kids are turfed out, simply because they are, sometimes even without punching their classmates or yelling obscenities, major social problems; they disrupt classes simply by begging--sometimes demanding--attention and special privileges.

Turfing involves a quid pro quo. You turf a troublemaker from School A to School B; then School B--after a supposedly deceptive period of time--turfs one of its problems to School A. The reason superintendents are willing to do this kind of trading is that, amazingly, a kid who's a total pain in one school will sometimes, for a variety of mostly untrackable reasons, do a great deal better at another school.

Understandably, principals and superintendents do not talk to non-administrative outsiders about turfing. It does exist, however, and the students who are turfed are overwhelmingly male, as, thanks to our basic wiring, we males are about seven times more likely than females to be aggressive disrupters.

The problem child whom Sozobe describes having entered Sozlet's classroom late in the school year may well have been turfed in. It's very hard to find out, without doing the kind of research that makes a person feel grubby (asking a parent at the kid's former school, etc.). However, any continuing behavior problem who disrupts the class and is a continual drain on the teacher does not have to be tolerated forever. If he doesn't learn acceptable manners of at least a very basic kind, he can be given an in-school chance with another teacher in another classroom--with whom he may do better.

When I was teaching, I'd occasionally have a student who was a major distraction. If he or she didn't respond to some friendly coaching and an appeal to reason, within a generous amount of time, I'd ask my principal to place this student in another section so that I could do my job with the other 19 in my classroom. Sometimes, this switch was to everyone's benefit. Also, I'd occasionally have kids who hadn't worked well with one of my colleagues sent into my class. Fine. The kid knew that he was on probation of some kind, and, fairly often, he'd do pretty well with me.

In-school switching is discussable with a principal. Out-of-school turfing is, understandably, the province of superintendents.

If one kid is truly taking a classroom down, don't hesitate, as a teacher or as a constant volunteer parent together with the teacher, to think about asking the principal to consider an in-school switch. The principal genuinely wants the greatest number of students to do well and enjoy school.

Admirable of Sozlet to be trying to help this kid settle in. Often, kids are better at this personal assistance than adults, because kids, among other advantages, can say what they expect of their classmates--within reason. Also, kids usually want to help. Sure, they can be cruel, but they are also often very generous. Sozlet is clearly, from this and other stories, a very generous child.

Interesting, Miklos.

To clarify, there were three schools involved. C went from school 1 (our school, a regular public school with some special ed students) to school 2 (exclusively for students with special needs). J came to our school from school 3 -- a completely separate school, also a regular public school.

School 3 is in a district that is known for obsessing about test scores and tending to shunt kids who aren't good for test scores over to us. The fact that our school district is more laid-back about test scores and generally more inclusive is part of why I chose it (when realtors were recommending school 3's district).

I have the impression that J started out rough, settled down somewhat, and then recently got much worse. I wouldn't be surprised if bad weather and lack of outdoor recess is part of the problem... and hopefully spring break and then the return of better weather will help with that.

Interesting case, that J. Maybe we should reconsider our positions on not spanking kids? <innocent look>

Sozobe,

Good for you, choosing a school for Sozlet that is less test-oriented and more inclusive in outlook. The test-mill schools tend to stifle individualism and raise frustration--put, succinctly, I find such schools anti-kid.

Lack of outdoor recess may, indeed, make a big difference. Do you know why outdoor play is not a part of the day at Sozlet's school? If the argument is that too much time goes into bundling and unbundling winter clothes, then the recess is probably too short to begin with.

I'm not sure.

There was some genuinely bad weather for a while, but they had indoor recess even when I thought they shouldn't have. I do think bundling/ messiness is part of it. I remember one day sozlet said they didn't go out to recess because five kids didn't have boots. It was still very snowy at the time, about four inches left of wet, sloppy snow, and I can see that the teacher was concerned about wet feet and pantlegs for the rest of the day.

I expect things will get better soon but if not, maybe worth saying something...

Natural light--even on a gray day--is so important to the physical well-being and state of mind of not just kids, but of everyone, that it really seems negligent of a school not to allow outdoor recess in winter (the dark time of the year, anyway) simply because there are a lot of outer clothes involved or some parents forgot to send their children to school with boots. Life in the classroom would be much easier for everyone if, every reasonable winter day, children had a break to get some real light and some fresh air.

When I was in school, parents were instructed to send boots with their kids every day it even might be wet. Whether our recess was outdoors on a particular day depended on temperature (I think the lower limit was 20F) and the moisture content of any precipitation. I remember distinctly the great pleasure of going out to play as dry snow flurries whirled around us.

Our kids grew up in Maine, and there was outdoor recess, no matter the temperature. Boots were, again, required every day it might be wet, and the kids brought them faithfully because they all hated the idea of having to stay indoors during recess. Kids who came without boots or were getting over colds were left to do something quiet (read, draw) with another teacher or volunteer. Most importantly, the children were told how important the light and fresh air are--and they were strongly encouraged to go outside.

The science is there--in spades--on the virtues of even brief outdoor recreation during the school day. And, in winter, not every kid will get home before it's pretty dark, so school recess is THE time. Also, not every kid has a backyard--or a parent willing to take him/her for a walk or to a park. Outdoor recess is an important community health service that all schools should provide.

Sozobe, I don't know whether Sozlet is in an urban or suburban or rural school. If she's in an urban or suburban school, there is often an extra awareness on the part of administrators about the liability of kids' injuring themselves while playing on ice and other slippery surfaces. This liability is typically covered by the school's standard insurance, AS LONG AS there is a responsible adult outside with the kids, watching them play. There may be rules about how many monitors per how many students, but I'm not a lawyer. I do know that kids CAN play outside on all but the worst days, and the school will, with the correct monitoring, be covered if anyone hits the frozen lawn too hard. So, don't let anyone feed you nonsense about slip-and-fall coverage; the school will already have it!

If you do look into this, I'll be truly fascinated to hear what you discover. We live, increasingly, in a culture of fear--and reluctance to stand for any inconvenience, even if there's ultimately a positive effect. Why should kids pay the price for fearful or lazy adults? And it irritates me to think what behaviors such adults are modeling. To my mind, it's a child's basic right to get outside at least once during the long school day.