I woke up with butterflies in my stomach and a flurry of questions floating around my head. How was today going to go? Would my teacher be welcoming me in her classroom? Would the students realize how excited I am to meet them and learn more about them? Would everything go smoothly?
I popped a soft peppermint into my mouth and got out of my car. Ever since I can remember my mother handed me peppermints when I was nervous. The first day of each school year and presentation days were always peppermint days. Peppermint eased my stomach pain and helped take my mind off of my worries.
As I was walking into the daunting new world, I made sure my nametag was on straight and put a scared but excited smile on my face.
***
After several weeks of a successful placement, I was introduced to a new student.
“Hello!” I said.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
“DeRon” the articulate young boy stated.
Wow, I thought. He seemed so strong, confident, and very articulate for such a young child. Even though he only spoke his name, he looked me straight in the eye and clearly stated his name, proving to me he was very proud. DeRon, a 5-year-old African American student, was sitting in a desk by himself next to the whiteboard at the front of the classroom.
I felt such an instant connection with him in just the first few minutes after meeting him. He had such a warm and inviting personality and was eager to talk to me.
He would talk about anything and everything! Little did I know, DeRon was going through one of the roughest times in his life so far.
“Ms. Roberts!” DeRon shouted as I walked into my kindergarten classroom a week later.
A huge smile formed across my face. I felt so appreciated and welcomed. He warmed my heart with his ever so sweet greetings in the morning. I felt as if I made his life better, if only for a few hours. I hoped he realized how greatly he inspired me.
After the usual calendar time and read-a-loud my students went back to their tables and DeRon went back to his desk. The students got out their journals and began to write during free writing time. I began to walk around the classroom and monitor students’ writing and drawings. The students were always eager and excited to share with me what they wrote, even if they wrote very little. Listening to them pour out their hearts and tell what was going on in their little but big worlds was always extremely interesting to me. As a student in my first semester of the early childhood education program getting to know my students and what events were happening in their lives was an exhilarating and eye-opening experience.
I looked across the room and DeRon’s hand was waiting ever so patiently up in the air. I slowly made my way over to him and he started bouncing in his seat with anticipation. I expected a story about what he did over the weekend or the video game he’s been playing or even about something that happened at school. His story was nowhere near what I was expecting.
As he began to tell me his story he pointed to his clear and precise illustrations. I was overcome with chill bumps and my entire body froze including my shocked facial expression… for what seemed like an eternity. My body slowly began to unfreeze and my head was overwhelmed with thoughts. How do I respond to this? What else does he know? Is this why he moved to our school? A five year old should NEVER have to see this or go through this!
I began to collect my thoughts as he finished his story.
“I’m so glad you shared your story with me DeRon, “ I stated quietly and shyly.
“Just remember, you can always share your stories with me!”
I slowly stood up and started to really process what I had just experienced. I knew that I always wanted to help students who were facing serious and scary situations at home. Was I certain this is what I wanted to do? How do I really handle situations like this? The bittersweet moment was certainly one I would never forget. I wanted to be a good role model and really impact and child’s life but at the same time I had no clue where to begin.
After a few minutes passed, I asked DeRon if he’d like to share his story with my placement teacher. I knew this is something she should see because his story was no ordinary everyday story. He picked up his writing journal and walked over to the teacher’s desk. He began to retell his story just as vividly as he had told me a few moments ago. Just hearing the words come out of his mouth again gave me a sick feeling all over.
DeRon had been placed at our school because his mother was no longer able to take care of him. He was living with his grandmother who at the time was working full time and still trying to support herself. His mother was arrested at their home and was taken to jail. DeRon had illustrated and written about the time the police came to take his mother away.
“They said I have to pay them 600 dollars to get her out of jail,” were the exact words out of this young and innocent looking five year old.
He had experienced something I have and probably never will experience. I wanted to just scoop him up and cover his eyes in order to protect him from such a horrible situation. How can I really help him? Do I have enough time to really make an impact on his life?
I was determined to make a difference in this young boys life, even if he didn’t remember it after a month or two. I felt just like Erin Gruwell as she described in her memoir. She was filled with all the excitement and motivation to change lives but when her chance finally came she was overwhelmed with how to handle it.
As the weeks progressed, I spent much of my time in the classroom working with him. I wanted him to know that someone cared about him and was willing to listen to whatever he needed to get out. The bond between De’Ron and I continued to grow and he greeted me every time I entered the classroom (even if I had just left the classroom for a minute). He wrote about me in his journal. He drew pictures of him and I holding hands and smiling in his journal. I felt relieved knowing he trusted me and that he knew I cared about him.
De’Ron meet with the counselor at our school. She worked with him one and one and helped him try to make sense of the situation he was in. She incorporated children’s literature that related to his life. He began to open up completely with her.
After my placement was over, I came back several days to see the children and help my placement teacher out. One particular day, I came to visit and it happened to be awards day. I walked with my class to the gym for awards and De’Ron held my hand the entire way. He seemed overjoyed that I had come to visit and I secretly told him I came to see him. Once all of the kindergarten classes filed in and sat down, De’Ron asked if he could sit in my lap. I sweetly told him he could sit right next to me.
He sat right next to me, well rather on top of my right leg. He locked his arm around mine and held onto me as if I was going to fly away. I felt bad telling him to stop so I let him hold onto me for another minute. Then, he turned around and said, “Ms. Roberts my grandmother is here”. I felt rather embarrassed that he was clinging to me while his grandmother was watching behind us. At the same time, he had been through so much and I wanted to be the solid rock in his life. I wanted to really make a difference in his life.
I had the wonderful opportunity of meeting his grandmother. I made sure I told her what a wonderful child he really was. I wanted her to know that despite what may be going on his life, he was an extremely smart young boy and extremely caring as well.
De’Ron left a lasting impression on me. I knew I had made an impact in his life, even if he never remembered, even if it was tiny.
Sadly, after speaking with my previous placement teacher, I found out that De’Ron transferred out of the school. My teacher was uncertain as to what school he transferred to and what was going on in his life.
I think of him often, but I am certain he made an impact in my life. J
One Life, One Story
I woke up with butterflies in my stomach and a flurry of questions floating around my head. How was today going to go? Would my teacher be welcoming me in her classroom? Would the students realize how excited I am to meet them and learn more about them? Would everything go smoothly?
I popped a soft peppermint into my mouth and got out of my car. Ever since I can remember my mother handed me peppermints when I was nervous. The first day of each school year and presentation days were always peppermint days. Peppermint eased my stomach pain and helped take my mind off of my worries.
As I was walking into the daunting new world, I made sure my nametag was on straight and put a scared but excited smile on my face.
***
After several weeks of a successful placement, I was introduced to a new student.
“Hello!” I said.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
“DeRon” the articulate young boy stated.
Wow, I thought. He seemed so strong, confident, and very articulate for such a young child. Even though he only spoke his name, he looked me straight in the eye and clearly stated his name, proving to me he was very proud. DeRon, a 5-year-old African American student, was sitting in a desk by himself next to the whiteboard at the front of the classroom.
I felt such an instant connection with him in just the first few minutes after meeting him. He had such a warm and inviting personality and was eager to talk to me.
He would talk about anything and everything! Little did I know, DeRon was going through one of the roughest times in his life so far.
“Ms. Roberts!” DeRon shouted as I walked into my kindergarten classroom a week later.
A huge smile formed across my face. I felt so appreciated and welcomed. He warmed my heart with his ever so sweet greetings in the morning. I felt as if I made his life better, if only for a few hours. I hoped he realized how greatly he inspired me.
After the usual calendar time and read-a-loud my students went back to their tables and DeRon went back to his desk. The students got out their journals and began to write during free writing time. I began to walk around the classroom and monitor students’ writing and drawings. The students were always eager and excited to share with me what they wrote, even if they wrote very little. Listening to them pour out their hearts and tell what was going on in their little but big worlds was always extremely interesting to me. As a student in my first semester of the early childhood education program getting to know my students and what events were happening in their lives was an exhilarating and eye-opening experience.
I looked across the room and DeRon’s hand was waiting ever so patiently up in the air. I slowly made my way over to him and he started bouncing in his seat with anticipation. I expected a story about what he did over the weekend or the video game he’s been playing or even about something that happened at school. His story was nowhere near what I was expecting.
As he began to tell me his story he pointed to his clear and precise illustrations. I was overcome with chill bumps and my entire body froze including my shocked facial expression… for what seemed like an eternity. My body slowly began to unfreeze and my head was overwhelmed with thoughts. How do I respond to this? What else does he know? Is this why he moved to our school? A five year old should NEVER have to see this or go through this!
I began to collect my thoughts as he finished his story.
“I’m so glad you shared your story with me DeRon, “ I stated quietly and shyly.
“Just remember, you can always share your stories with me!”
I slowly stood up and started to really process what I had just experienced. I knew that I always wanted to help students who were facing serious and scary situations at home. Was I certain this is what I wanted to do? How do I really handle situations like this? The bittersweet moment was certainly one I would never forget. I wanted to be a good role model and really impact and child’s life but at the same time I had no clue where to begin.
After a few minutes passed, I asked DeRon if he’d like to share his story with my placement teacher. I knew this is something she should see because his story was no ordinary everyday story. He picked up his writing journal and walked over to the teacher’s desk. He began to retell his story just as vividly as he had told me a few moments ago. Just hearing the words come out of his mouth again gave me a sick feeling all over.
DeRon had been placed at our school because his mother was no longer able to take care of him. He was living with his grandmother who at the time was working full time and still trying to support herself. His mother was arrested at their home and was taken to jail. DeRon had illustrated and written about the time the police came to take his mother away.
“They said I have to pay them 600 dollars to get her out of jail,” were the exact words out of this young and innocent looking five year old.
He had experienced something I have and probably never will experience. I wanted to just scoop him up and cover his eyes in order to protect him from such a horrible situation. How can I really help him? Do I have enough time to really make an impact on his life?
I was determined to make a difference in this young boys life, even if he didn’t remember it after a month or two. I felt just like Erin Gruwell as she described in her memoir. She was filled with all the excitement and motivation to change lives but when her chance finally came she was overwhelmed with how to handle it.
As the weeks progressed, I spent much of my time in the classroom working with him. I wanted him to know that someone cared about him and was willing to listen to whatever he needed to get out. The bond between De’Ron and I continued to grow and he greeted me every time I entered the classroom (even if I had just left the classroom for a minute). He wrote about me in his journal. He drew pictures of him and I holding hands and smiling in his journal. I felt relieved knowing he trusted me and that he knew I cared about him.
De’Ron meet with the counselor at our school. She worked with him one and one and helped him try to make sense of the situation he was in. She incorporated children’s literature that related to his life. He began to open up completely with her.
After my placement was over, I came back several days to see the children and help my placement teacher out. One particular day, I came to visit and it happened to be awards day. I walked with my class to the gym for awards and De’Ron held my hand the entire way. He seemed overjoyed that I had come to visit and I secretly told him I came to see him. Once all of the kindergarten classes filed in and sat down, De’Ron asked if he could sit in my lap. I sweetly told him he could sit right next to me.
He sat right next to me, well rather on top of my right leg. He locked his arm around mine and held onto me as if I was going to fly away. I felt bad telling him to stop so I let him hold onto me for another minute. Then, he turned around and said, “Ms. Roberts my grandmother is here”. I felt rather embarrassed that he was clinging to me while his grandmother was watching behind us. At the same time, he had been through so much and I wanted to be the solid rock in his life. I wanted to really make a difference in his life.
I had the wonderful opportunity of meeting his grandmother. I made sure I told her what a wonderful child he really was. I wanted her to know that despite what may be going on his life, he was an extremely smart young boy and extremely caring as well.
De’Ron left a lasting impression on me. I knew I had made an impact in his life, even if he never remembered, even if it was tiny.
Sadly, after speaking with my previous placement teacher, I found out that De’Ron transferred out of the school. My teacher was uncertain as to what school he transferred to and what was going on in his life.
I think of him often, but I am certain he made an impact in my life. J