Most of their parents had never seen a Little in a position of authority. If I had a dollar for everytime I’d heard a crack about “babies teaching babies”, I’d make more money than the Superintendent.
I’ve had parents who’ve openly talked about putting me in a playpen, or taking me over their knee, or offered to let me sit in their lap, or asked where the “real” Pre-K teacher was. I ‘d be halfway to retirement if I got a bonus for that. That was my first year with any given parent. For some reason they just couldn’t wrap their head around the idea that their child’s very first teacher was a Little.
By Fall of their child’s first year, I was an incompetent who was going irrevocably damage their precious boy or girl. By mid to late Spring of their second year, I was a miracle worker who’d whipped their kid into shape. First they couldn’t stand me, then they didn’t want to leave me.
“I’m gonna miss Jaden being in your room, Mr Gibson.” Mrs Roberts gushed. “I know I shouldn’t be, but I’m nervous about Kindergarten.”
I smiled. All reassurance. “Don’t be. Jaden’s grown up a lot, and he’ll do a lot more. Just wait and see.”
“I still can’t get over it,” she went on. “When he didn’t potty train at two, I thought he was…was…like a…like…a…” She stopped. Clearly, she didn’t like where this train of thought was going and who it might offend. At least she was cognizant enough to watch what she was saying in front of me. Progress.
“Not every kid potty trains at two. They’re called late bloomers because they do still, in fact, bloom.”
Mrs Roberts leaned over the table a bit. Much more at ease. “Still, I gotta know, for future reference…how’d you do it? What’s your secret?”
My secret? I made the kid change himself. Peeing and pooping yourself isn’t nearly as fun when you’re the one who has to clean it up. Especially if you’re made to do so and you’re missing play time. “If I told you that, I might put myself out of a job.”
That got a laugh from just about everyone assembled. “Mr Gibson is really good at motivating his students,” Miss Winters, the physical therapist said. She was only at this meeting to officially dismiss Jaden from P.T. Kid didn’t need any help with his gross motor skills at all. “He really makes a connection with them.” Everyone nodded in agreement.
“Mr Gibson is very good at getting into the mindset of his children,” Mrs Bankhead said, not even looking up from her laptop as she typed away at the meeting’s minutes.
Miss Sosa nodded. “He is very empathetic. We’re lucky to have him.”
From there, the meeting went back to auto-pilot. Academic goals were presented and read.
“By the review date, Jaden will recognize and read thirty Dolch Sight words.”
“Jaden will add and subtract using manipulatives with sums and minuends up to twenty”
“Jaden will write his first and last name correctly with legible handwriting.”
And so on and so forth. Fairly advanced stuff for a kid who hadn’t gotten into Kindergarten just yet, but a kid’s need for an I.E.P. would only be re-evaluated every three years, so I made the goals to.
“To be clear,” I said, “these aren’t the ONLY things that we’ll be working on. These are just the goals that I’ll be collecting data for.”
“Of course, Mr Gibson.” Mrs Roberts reached out and shook my hand. Another satisfied customer.
After that, minutes were read, papers were signed and I was able to walk out of the meeting room and make a bee-line for my personal sanctuary.
Tarnia was laughing when she opened the classroom door for me. Not polite laughing, fake laughing, either. Full on belly laugh cackling. “Hey, Boss!” she said. “How was the meeting?”
Most of the kids were busy doing coloring worksheets. Social Studies. People in our community. Basic fun stuff. No sense in having Tarnia run herself ragged in my absence, but somebody had to watch the kids. “Second year, parent,” I said. “So it went well.”
“What does ‘second year parent’ mean?” I heard. I looked past Tarnia. Sitting at my kidney table, playing a match game with a couple of my students was a dark haired Amazon woman. Not a stranger. Not exactly what I’d call an acquaintance, either.
Tarnia gestured to the intruder, not a hint of weariness in her tone. “Administration sent Mrs Grange over to help while you were at your meeting.” Janet Grange. Third Grade Teacher.
Time to go into action, and graciously get this stranger out of my room. I went over to my kidney table. “Thank you so much, Mrs Grange for taking the time to assist my students.”