A Year at Crayons
Tomorrow marks a year since my first day at my job as an inclusion specialist. I remember walking into a classroom on that first morning and having absolutely no idea what was going on. Bewilderment is an understatement. There were at least 15 thousand children running around the room, and I didn’t know anything about them. I didn’t even know which children I was supposed to be working with as an inclusion specialist. I remember meeting what seemed like countless teachers, trying to keep track of which ones where in which classroom, and which people worked with which children. I even remember one of the teachers singing a song about a “fur-fur-furry squirrel” and thinking she was crazy (you know who you are). Unsurprisingly, a year later, things are still just as crazy. The only difference is that I’ve joined the craziness.
The year went by really quickly, but I feel like I’ve learned a lot. For example, though it may sound trite, don’t judge a book by its cover. Before being there too long, I had my ideas of which children I wanted to work with and which I certainly did NOT want to work with. Well, you can probably guess which ones I ended up working with. Fortunately for me, some of those kids turned out to be pretty great, and I would have missed out on some hilarious situations had I not been working with them. (Here’s a hint for you Crayons girls… “STUCK!!”)
Now, that’s not to say that my time there has been all laughs and smiles. Some of those very same children, and a good many other children, have made me want to jump out the window. Seriously, guys, it’s really no fun being called a “f***ing b****” by a three year old. Or to hear a child plotting your death. Or to be hit, kicked, scratched, slapped, punched, bit, screamed at, have things thrown at you, etc. It’s not fun to be around three year olds who try to boss you around, refuse to listen to you, and are just generally unpleasant. Please don’t think I’m being unjust, because rest assured, regardless of what a child does to me, my behavior to them remains the same. Children are still children, regardless of how likable they are, and deserve to be treated with respect - no matter how hard it is. And here’s the funny thing: I’ve found that no matter how hard it is, we still do it. We may throw our hands up in despair or sigh in exasperation. We may complain and boldly declare that things can’t go on much longer like this (I know I’m painting a very melodramatic picture, but it really does seem true at the time). But somehow, we always get the job done. And we do it well, to be frank. Way to go, ladies.
To top it all off, here’s the preschool-ese of the week: tootummers.
That’s cucumbers in English.
The year went by really quickly, but I feel like I’ve learned a lot. For example, though it may sound trite, don’t judge a book by its cover. Before being there too long, I had my ideas of which children I wanted to work with and which I certainly did NOT want to work with. Well, you can probably guess which ones I ended up working with. Fortunately for me, some of those kids turned out to be pretty great, and I would have missed out on some hilarious situations had I not been working with them. (Here’s a hint for you Crayons girls… “STUCK!!”)
Now, that’s not to say that my time there has been all laughs and smiles. Some of those very same children, and a good many other children, have made me want to jump out the window. Seriously, guys, it’s really no fun being called a “f***ing b****” by a three year old. Or to hear a child plotting your death. Or to be hit, kicked, scratched, slapped, punched, bit, screamed at, have things thrown at you, etc. It’s not fun to be around three year olds who try to boss you around, refuse to listen to you, and are just generally unpleasant. Please don’t think I’m being unjust, because rest assured, regardless of what a child does to me, my behavior to them remains the same. Children are still children, regardless of how likable they are, and deserve to be treated with respect - no matter how hard it is. And here’s the funny thing: I’ve found that no matter how hard it is, we still do it. We may throw our hands up in despair or sigh in exasperation. We may complain and boldly declare that things can’t go on much longer like this (I know I’m painting a very melodramatic picture, but it really does seem true at the time). But somehow, we always get the job done. And we do it well, to be frank. Way to go, ladies.
To top it all off, here’s the preschool-ese of the week: tootummers.
That’s cucumbers in English.
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