They were doing the FCAT in the public school where I volunteer. It took two weeks and they did not want volunteers there for the duration. I took a trip up north and worked in the garden and thought about those good and patient children who were filling in the circles with their number two pencils.
I reappeared today to cries of welcome, and "What are we going to do today?" They are eying my satchel for clues of what art materials and what food goody I have brought this day. I have brought a big bag of greens from my garden for the teacher and two large bags of peanuts in the shell for the kids. After the 'pancake' fiasco I have vowed never to cook in that classroom again.
As usual, the teacher is hunkered down at her laptop and her database of kids' scores and attendance and what else I have never been able to figure out. What I know is that these tasks take up all her time. She is a shy woman and I have gradually warmed to her and now appreciate her shards of humor. After all, she did ask me to be a classroom volunteer and she knew right from the beginning that I would not be Ms. Plastic who put up bulletin boards (all canned). She weathered the pancake incident, after all, and she pretty much gives me free reign to do what I want with the kids.
She told me today that she had an encounter with the principal, who wanted to know why in the world she would let a volunteer-me (!) do clay with the kids when the FCATS were pending?? My projects are messy and fun and noisy and the fired and glazed products are wonderful to my mind.
Earlier this week I went back to my old school to visit for a few hours. As I walked into the school my eyeballs popped at the riot of colorful paintings lining the halls. In the background I heard choruses of recorders playing in the distance. Little kids pulled me along to look at the small cottages they were making out of craft sticks. There was so much STUFF there! Other kids showed me their writing. Five minutes before the end of the day everyone, kids and adults, went into action to clean everything up. They are responsible for their everyday environment and they take doing their jobs seriously. In the public school the janitor does all this.
In my old school the kids also take standardized tests. They do not spend every school hour preparing. What they do is produce a Shakespearean play or go on a trip to study marine science in the Keys. And on the tests they do very well indeed.
Today I wanted to start a small group of ten students writing their own books that we'll compose, illustrate, edit, and bind. They seemed excited about it, though there is never enough time. These kids seem starved for adult interaction. They wanted to tell me so many things! They wanted to talk to me about the books they are reading, and what they used to read. I am thinking about the many years when I read to ten year-olds "To Kill a Mockingbird", and how this book was the most important thing they addressed. A few kids sidle up to me and ask, "Have you read the second book of "A Land Remembered"? This is the book they are required to read (Sunshine Standards), a fictional history of Florida. I read it months ago and was appalled by the expurgated edition and promptly got the original. The kids wanted me to somehow get them the real edition. I hedge.. I am already in trouble with this school.
I think that I may just begin reading them TKAM. It could be the best thing they learn.
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