He’s a cute kid, all four feet or so of him with the cutest head of wavy auburn hair you’ve ever seen.  He has an expressive face, bright eyes and likes to talk.  About video games.  One of the side benefits of having a student teacher is that I get the opportunity to spend time listening and talking to some of my students who chronically struggle.  As per usual, this kid had been separated from the rest of the class due to poor choices in behavior, so I took this opportunity to talk with him one on one.

I asked how his long weekend and snow day had gone and he immediately went on this long narrative about playing video games.  I was completely lost after the first 30 seconds, so my responses consisted of a lot of “wow”s, head nodding and “uh huh”s.  However, at one point in the story, without blinking an eye, the 6 year says “that game pisses me off”.  As an adult who rarely if ever says that word, I was slightly taken aback, but the teacher in me kicked in and I said,” hey kiddo, we don’t use that word in school, ok?”  He response of “ok” seemed a little confused, so I asked him where he had heard the word before, and he shared.  Then comes the, well, I’m sorry you’ve had to hear that, and I know adults use it, but it’s not ok to use at school, proceeding then to give him some alternative vocabulary.

Now, this is one bright child and his regular vocabulary is extensive for his age.  He however used that word with the familiarity of an old friend, telling me that he not only hears it a lot but he uses it a lot.  For me personally, this is a little sad because someone has made the choice not to protect this kid.  Maybe I’m old and overreacting, but it seems that adults are allowing kids to see and hear more and more inappropriate things, not understanding the harm it can do to children not ready to process them.  And once they’ve learned or observed them, there’s no taking it back unfortunately.

In the next few minutes however, the subject changed because I noticed he was not as animated at usual and his nose was runny, so I asked how he was feeling, checking his forehead while I did it.  “It doesn’t work that way you know”, talking about checking his temp.  “You have to get one of those flat things you put under your arm and it’s from China and you have to go all the way to China to get it”, all said with the most earnest of faces.  In all seriousness, I responded, “you know, I’m a grandma and grandmas don’t need those things.  I can tell just by touching your forehead”.  He seemed mildly impressed and then decided to watch the class quietly after that, declining to join in and just put his head on the desk.

Within a matter of just a few minutes I watched this kid go from mini adult to the 6 year old he is, and my heart went out to him.  Is he a challenge?  Yes.  Is he still just a little kid?  Yes. And it’s because of that second yes that we can’t afford to give up on him.  Yes, I know things are less difficult when he’s out of my room, but somewhere inside him is a bright little kid looking for someone to talk to, to listen to him and yes, set parameters that he may not think he wants but he so desperately needs.

Later on in the class there was an analogy using a cream filled cookie to illustrate ABA form in music which then became the catalyst to our next discussion on cookies.  “I don’t like cream filled cookies” he said.  “I like cookies with chocolate chips in them and I like eating them in bed.  Everyone should eat cookies in bed”.  He then proceeded to share with me that his dad didn’t like him to do it but his mom didn’t care.  Hmmm….  Anyway, I asked him if he got a lot of crumbs in his sheets and he stopped for a minute and thought deeply.  “I don’t know” he said.  And then he started talking about video games again before it was time for him to go.

I guess all this goes to say is that sometimes, the problem with teaching is that while you’re doing it, especially teaching an academic/activity subject like music, there is very seldom time to get into an in depth discussion with your kids about what is going on in their lives.  Oh sure, I always stop and ask them how their day is going or comment on something I see, but the minute a kid tries to really talk to me, I have to stop them because the next “thing” is getting ready to start.  Perhaps this kid who struggles wouldn’t be struggling quite so hard if someone in his life spent time just talking and listening to him, even when he tells you about a game that pisses him off.