On the first day of school, I always tell my students that I will learn so much more from them than they will probably learn from me…that I am student first and teacher second.
[waving the book in his hand] Hey Teach, I finally finished The Outsiders last night, it’s like my second time reading it now…
*Ray that’s so great [big smiles]
Yeah I had to finish it cuz I was readin’ it to my bro and he cries whenever I stop readin’
Cries?[eyebrows raise] How old is your brother?
He’s three. Blink, Blink. The G is almost three..
He’s three and you read him The Outsiders?!??
Yeah, yeah I’m tired of reading him that same book he got over and over.
Ray is only eleven and he is all boy. Pop, pop, tap, tap, bounce, bounce the kid cannot sit still. He fiddles with his pen busts it apart, drums his desk and then wipes the lenses of his gold rimmed sunglasses all this in one big breath. He is all boy and yet he has become all man, taking on the role of parent in his size 8 high tops. He’d never see it that way though, never. He’d tell you he’s just doing what he’s always been doing dragging the little guy to the park so he can play hoops, watching him out of the corner of his eye ready to rescue him from the sandbox even if its mid dunk shot. “Why do kids never wanna leave the park?” he asks me one day. For me, his predicament begs the question who teaches us how to be the parents we become? Does it start this early and if so what is Ray’s baby brother learning from Ray? How will it mold him, affect him? And for Ray, are these moments the beginnings of an unconscious parenting map he may or may not follow? At times as a mother I feel like an eleven year old Ray, totally unprepared, at a complete loss. I’ve told the G like a dozen times, “Use your words. We do not hit our friends,” hoping that the sheer repetition of this "mantra" will work, wondering how many other forces are working against it, wondering if it is making any difference at all. Thankfully I’m also surrounded by many mamas who assure me that its all normal, who assure me that its all part of being 2. But Ray doesn’t have this luxury he’s been given a job he did not sign up for and he’s doing it without knowing he’s doing it. I know Ray needs lots of mothering himself these days not because he doesn’t have a mom or that his own mom is not doing all that she can but because he’s got a job to do, he’s got a big role to play. As his teacher I’m in a strange new place honored with the chance to learn from Ray as he tries to figure out the beautiful mess of being a role model to a toddler that is just a few months apart from my own. So today I brought Ray a box of the G’s picture books.
“These are for your bro, recommendations from the G,” I tell him. “Now you don’t have to read The Outsiders anymore…read him these.”
*Ray is not his real name
2 comments:
sweet and yet so sad. my heart breaks for both the boys, seems neither is getting the type of childhood we'd hope for. happy to know he's in your classroom and that you've got the oppty to extend his reading experiences outside the school setting.
Teachers like you are like guardian angels to boys like those.
Post a Comment