School Story #2

 

'Mrs. Sotham'.  Another portrait by a former student.

Several years ago I was teaching a class of very fun and funny Grade 2 students.  We were in our groove as a group.  We had gelled.  We were a team.

Halfway through the school year 'Gordon' (not his real name) moved to our town and into my classroom. Things were never the same following his arrival.

Gordon was disruptive to say the least.  He was up.  He was down.  He was under tables.  He talked incessantly.  He didn't stay on task.  He was never on topic.  He blurted out answers.  He didn't talk, he shouted.  He never walked in the classroom, he ran.  It was like he was driven by some invisible motor.

And he never, EVER, sat in his desk.  I don't think he was in it for more than 2 consecutive minutes.  No wonder he couldn't get any work done.  It seemed I was constantly ferrying him back to his seat.  And I am not a teacher who has her students sit for long periods of time.

Anyway.

Every day at 1 o'clock I read a chapter or two from the novel we were studying.  One day the word 'conscience' came up in the book.

"What's a conscience?" someone asked.

I put the question to the students.

Ashleigh answered, "It's like you have a devil on one shoulder and an angel on the other.  You should listen to the angel."

Mark said, "One day there was a piece of cake in the fridge for my Dad's lunch and I really wanted to eat it.  But I didn't because it made me feel funny inside.  That feeling is your conscience."

Good answers kids!

But the best answer came from one of my quietest students.  Mitchell said, "Your conscience is the voice in your heart that tells you the difference between right and wrong."  Thank you, Mitch!  I couldn't have said it better myself.

The topic of conscience came up a lot that week.

One day during that time, Gordon was particularly manic.  He could not control himself.  It was as if all his disruptive behaviours had been cranked up tenfold.  At snack time he did not eat.  Instead he was twirling around the room bumping into furniture and people.

After ignoring many requests from me to return to his desk and eat his snack, I lost my patience.  I walked over to him, planted my hands firmly on his shoulders and marched him back to his desk.  I plunked him onto his seat.  "Sit down!"  I ordered.  "And don't move until the bell rings for recess!"

Gordon sat there with his arms crossed and a smoldering look on his face.  "Too bad for you," I thought.  "Sit there."

The recess bell rang and the students ran out the door to the playground.  Gordon came up to me with the hugest smile on his face.

"Mrs. Sotham!  Mrs. Sotham!  My conscience talked to me!"

"It did?!  Your conscience talked to you?"

Inside I was beaming.  Finally, something had gotten through to Gordon.  It was a fine teacher moment.

"Gordon!  What did your conscience say?"

"It said MY TEACHER IS A REAL BITCH!"

And with a smile on his face he skipped out the classroom door to join his friends on the playground.