Friday, November 21, 2008

Persistence

So I read to this second grade class Friday mornings. I love it, the kids seem to like the books, and the teacher gets a break. Between pages, I try to make the stories interactive by asking questions and letting the kids comment, which they’re always eager to do. So much so that I can’t call on all the hands before turning the page, otherwise I’d be there all day.

But these kids are not to be discouraged. If I don’t call on them, they’ll persist in raising their hand after every page. When I finally do, they ask me to go back one, two, three, FOUR pages, so they can make their comment. Sometimes what they’ve been waiting so long to say is a personal story, a question, or an observation.

I used to find this a little frustrating. We are trying to move FORWARD in the story! But now I like that they’re so engaged. And even more, that they will not be silenced. I could skip their raised hand for fifteen minutes, but they will not relent until I call on them. Then they will speak their piece and then fold their hands, completely satisfied. I’m hopeful for our future.

2 comments:

lpanik said...

So today at the swings Mellisa got her hand caught in the chain and Billy's mother came to school to get him. Peggy had a carrot for lunch and my sandwich fell on the floor....
UH-huh.....
So did I tell you about the book I read after lunch? It was about a little girl and her DAD. After dinner she would go into the garage to talk to her father who was working under this kit car. I knew he was not listening but I talked anyway.
UH-huh....
So MOM came to pick me up at school but she was late. I didn't care. I knew she would come.
UH-huh.... Can you hand me that wrench?
Tomorrow I have to turn in my book report. I think I will do well.
UH-huh.......


I really miss those days and thank you for the memories I can take with me in life. Your writing reminds me of a lot of things. Thank you.
Love
DAD

Michelle Panik said...

Dad! How I loved those salad days (nights) that I spent in the garage with you. It never occurred to me before, but perhaps that's where my love of storytelling began. For that, I thank you.