tiger my friend
Last week I went to go visit a 2nd grade classroom for a few hours. While I'm making a comic strip version of the experience, which I will post if I can get the scanner to work, I just wanted to relate some of my feelings that are irrelevant to the comic strip (which deals mostly with floggings, firing squads, and the charming story of how a corrupt dictator came to fall in love with an action figure modeled after himself).
I suppose the first thing I noticed was how the teacher was so overly concerned with keeping absolute order and organization, disallowing the children from moving, speaking, or making any noise of any kind. They're second graders for chrissakes! You're a teacher, not a drill sergeant! More to the point, this policy is actually hindering learning and creating the atmosphere of a cold factory rather than a place of learning. At one point I noticed a girl asking the boy sitting next to her what she was supposed to do on the writing assignment the class had just been given, and as he was explaining quietly, the teacher blurted out "I assume you must be finished because talking children are not working children." I wanted to punch her, for all the times this kind of thing has been said to me, and for all the children everywhere who have to put up with this shit. In reality I didn't do or say anything- though I am curious what the response would be to a smartass 21 year old one-day-guest attacking the ideology and practices of a 60-something teacher who's probably been doing this for the majority of her life.
During PE, the kids had to run around the field twice and try to beat the times they'd gotten before (I don't know how long before). One of the kids walked most of the way, and by the time he finally got in, he was in tears from all the shouting and the rain and being humiliated, as he pleaded with the teacher that he was "sick", to which the response was a shrug and "You'll be fine." I later asked him, once the class was starting to line up to go inside (he was still leaning against the wall, panting and teary-eyed), how he was sick, what hurts, or whether he can't breathe. All he said was that his leg hurt, so I asked him whether he has made sure his teacher knows. He said that he has already told her, but that "she must have forgot."
Now this tells me a lot about this teacher. First it seems entirely possible that she does not care about the physical health of this child. I don't know what is wrong with his leg, but no accomodations of any kind were made for him. Second, it seems entirely certain that this teacher cares nothing about this poor child's emotions. First she sends him out to run with his peers with full knowledge that he is unable to run, which sets him up for humiliation, and then when his peers make fun of him, she does nothing, thus ensuring that this child is fully humiliated and feels like nobody cares about him.
I wasn't going to let that happen. (god, here i am crying as i write this). So I told him to never let anyone ignore him, to make sure his voice is heard, and to ignore the kids who make fun of him because they don't understand how cool he is. That made him really happy and he stuck with me the rest of the day, showing me his favorite book and telling me everything. I could see how his face just beamed...
I cried.
Right then I knew I had to be a teacher. To somehow try to right all the wrongs, to give kids everything they so desperately need that nobody ever gives. I hate the school system as much as they do, so not only can I relate to them on that level that very few other teachers do, I have the power to change, as much I humanly can, the very things about school that make it so miserable for so many people. There is nothing else I am more skilled at; a career in art, digital or not, is based upon a lifelong dedication to developing that skill, which I have not been developing. All my life I have thinking about school and how to make it better.
I suppose the first thing I noticed was how the teacher was so overly concerned with keeping absolute order and organization, disallowing the children from moving, speaking, or making any noise of any kind. They're second graders for chrissakes! You're a teacher, not a drill sergeant! More to the point, this policy is actually hindering learning and creating the atmosphere of a cold factory rather than a place of learning. At one point I noticed a girl asking the boy sitting next to her what she was supposed to do on the writing assignment the class had just been given, and as he was explaining quietly, the teacher blurted out "I assume you must be finished because talking children are not working children." I wanted to punch her, for all the times this kind of thing has been said to me, and for all the children everywhere who have to put up with this shit. In reality I didn't do or say anything- though I am curious what the response would be to a smartass 21 year old one-day-guest attacking the ideology and practices of a 60-something teacher who's probably been doing this for the majority of her life.
During PE, the kids had to run around the field twice and try to beat the times they'd gotten before (I don't know how long before). One of the kids walked most of the way, and by the time he finally got in, he was in tears from all the shouting and the rain and being humiliated, as he pleaded with the teacher that he was "sick", to which the response was a shrug and "You'll be fine." I later asked him, once the class was starting to line up to go inside (he was still leaning against the wall, panting and teary-eyed), how he was sick, what hurts, or whether he can't breathe. All he said was that his leg hurt, so I asked him whether he has made sure his teacher knows. He said that he has already told her, but that "she must have forgot."
Now this tells me a lot about this teacher. First it seems entirely possible that she does not care about the physical health of this child. I don't know what is wrong with his leg, but no accomodations of any kind were made for him. Second, it seems entirely certain that this teacher cares nothing about this poor child's emotions. First she sends him out to run with his peers with full knowledge that he is unable to run, which sets him up for humiliation, and then when his peers make fun of him, she does nothing, thus ensuring that this child is fully humiliated and feels like nobody cares about him.
I wasn't going to let that happen. (god, here i am crying as i write this). So I told him to never let anyone ignore him, to make sure his voice is heard, and to ignore the kids who make fun of him because they don't understand how cool he is. That made him really happy and he stuck with me the rest of the day, showing me his favorite book and telling me everything. I could see how his face just beamed...
I cried.
Right then I knew I had to be a teacher. To somehow try to right all the wrongs, to give kids everything they so desperately need that nobody ever gives. I hate the school system as much as they do, so not only can I relate to them on that level that very few other teachers do, I have the power to change, as much I humanly can, the very things about school that make it so miserable for so many people. There is nothing else I am more skilled at; a career in art, digital or not, is based upon a lifelong dedication to developing that skill, which I have not been developing. All my life I have thinking about school and how to make it better.