This week I am teaching a third grade class. This particular class is one of my favorites. Like the rest of the elementary school, it is a mix of black and white, Asian and Latino, rich and poor.
We sit cross-legged in morning meeting. Each child gets a turn to speak. They are excited to share what they did over Winter break, and what presents they received. The boy next to me asks what "black Friday" means. Kids call out things like, it's when you get stuff on sale, and it's when people stand in line all night for TV's and X-boxes. The boy says, I thought it was the day black people get to shop 'cause stuff is cheap and black people are poor. We're losing our house soon. It tumbles out of him in one long thought.
I'm sorry, I say. I'm sorry you are losing your house. It's a lame statement, but I am caught off guard, and I'm not sure he really wants more than that. I'm not sure he even expects more than that. This is his sharing for today.
I can't get it out of my mind, the differences in this one classroom, this one elementary school. There are children of diplomats and children who are bused in from neighborhoods many never venture into. In the classroom, I get to hear the stories of the kids whose parents work at the White House and the stories of the kids whose parents have no job.
My head aches as I lean over their desks, explaining fractions. In this city, as in many others, I am struck by the enormous gap between the haves and the have nots. I choose a book from the shelf to read aloud during their snack time. It is a book of poetry by Langston Hughes. I watch them unwrap their apples and Hostess cupcakes, their edamame and their Cheetos. It's a varied selection of snacks.
I start to read. I need to hear his words, and I want them to hear them too. I read the poem called "Mother to Son." It includes the memorable line the mother speaks to her son, "Life for me ain't been no crystal stair."
The kids get it. The mom is saying her life hasn't been easy, but she doesn't give up, says one of the girls. She's telling her son to never give up, one of the boys yells out. Life is hard, but it's beautiful, offers another child. I love that answer. Langston Hughes never actually says that it's beautiful. I ask her about that. She explains. Why would we give up on something that we believe has something beautiful for us?
I believe Langston Hughes should be a part of every third grade class.
They get it.
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Comments
Oh, and a flippant pat on the back for writing such a wonderful post and a big flippant "R" (inspire of your excessive comma usage!)
Nice post.
r
bike, it was meaningful on both sides...
Barry, you are very kind. Thank you~
toritto, that made me laugh until I realized that it's probably true.
trilogy, either this is a very deep class, or we don't give kids enough credit.
I sat down and read it. I had never read anything like that in my life. I do not know how you do your job. I would be taking them all home with me.
HUGGGGGGGGG
HUGGGGGGGGGG
your kids are lucky to have you.
we are lucky too.
I think it's the latter. I taught third grade. I think they are the coolest grade in elementary school. Not babies, not yet jaded, and razor sharp. Your classroom sounds like a microcosm of the real world, and that's a good thing.
Lezlie
Belinda, I thought it was a very wise statement, too.
dianaani, you will love it!
froggy, I love his poetry more and more as the years go by. But yes, the kids get him.
jlsathre, thank you. Unfortunately I'm only with them this week...
Lezlie, now that I am working with different grades, I have to agree with you. Third graders are wonderful. (I can just see you as a third grade teacher.)
Thank you, Deborah. I wish it was not just for the week.
Bea, there is nothing I'd rather give kids than an appreciation of books.
Smiling and waving at you, Con! Thank you for coming by!
I taught third grade for 6 years and loved every minute! But, I love each grade I've taught. Its their minds and spirit mingled with learning and being together "The Lion Cubs" that make loving the days I spend with my "children".
I come away from this wishing all the kids had the same chances and even the same lunch. The healthiest possible, chock full of protein, good carbs and fresh veggies and fruit. And homes, most of all, loving homes ...
Wow and tears... real tears..
Thanks, Mary.
Firechick, thank you, I appreciate you coming by.
LammChops, thanks for the kind words.
Pauline, if I knew how to provide a link to the poem, I would. I'm so bad at that kind of thing. It's worth looking up, though!
Jaime, thank you so much.
Mango, I like to work with all ages too, but somehow third graders seem smart and savvy, yet still innocent.
Rita, thank you. It's a great thing to share with kids.
Jonathan, :) :)
Cranky, that's one of my favorites too. I love Langston...
Some tribute here, Joanie.
Gosh your kids are fortunate to have you.
r.
Rated for audacity.
I have had a teacher in grade five who was the best teacher I had ever.Apart from teaching,he taught us the most beautiful songs that I can't find in any book.I loved him dearly,and I still sing his songs when I am out in the fields bike riding.
You remind me of him.During the entire school year I was happy to have him as a teacher.
It was the poesy of the songs,the loving nature of this man and his talent to encourage the children to believe in their abilities that made him so special.
Thank you ,Joanie,for sharing,I am glad to know you.
Have a great year 2012!!!
I'm crying. this is so good. I think what makes it so damned good is I KNOW you do this stuff, this beautiful feeling creative stuff for them. And I know you're making a difference, enriching these children with (not just langston hughes, whose pretty damned formidable) but YOU. you are an immensely gifted woman giving your loving, generous soul to them.
I know you're not a saint joan, I know you're a flesh and blood american artist sensitive creature human being woman who probably has 'moments'. but what a teacher. these kids are so lucky to be taught by a poet, in poetry.