This post originally published when David was entering Kindergarten. Two years later, Katherine is. But these rules stay the same.
When your contract stipulates writing two to four original blog posts a day, every conversation and interaction of your day is potential blog material. Eric knows this, as do my good friends, my mom, and my sisters, all of whom qualify what they are about to say: “This isn’t for Beyond Blue” …
Two weeks ago at Parents’ Orientation for Kindergarten at St. Mary’s, David’s teacher, Mrs. Ryan, explained her goals for her students, and how, exactly, she was going to get 21 kids ages 6 and under to do what she tells them.
As she spoke, I took copious notes.
Eric rolled his eyes. “This is blog material, isn’t it?”
“Oh my God,” I said, “This stuff is gold! Forget therapy! I can just use all of these simple lessons in my life!”
As it turns out I still do need therapy, but here are some clever rules Mrs. Ryan uses with her students that, I do believe, can apply to coping with fragile brain wiring, and to life, in general.
1. Be yourself: James, Anastasia, or someone in between.
According to Mrs. Ryan: “There is always a James who struggles and falls asleep and doesn’t care, at all. There’s always an Anastasia, who after showing the rest of the class why two apples and three apples make five apples begs her teacher for another exercise to challenge her precocious mind. And the same method Mrs. Ryan used to teach Tommy might not do the trick for Susie.
2. Reward and punish in ten-minute intervals.
If Danny drinks one too many fruit punches or eats something with red dye that compels him to use his ruler as a conductor’s stick on his buddies’ heads, then his angel is taken down from his name on the big board. For ten minutes. Because anything more than that will tempt the kids to throw in the towel (for good).
“It’s like when you get parking ticket,” Mrs. Ryan explained. “If you’re going to pay the tab regardless, you may as well leave your car there. Little people think the same way. So they get many chances in a day to try again, to figure out what went wrong, and how they might better handle it the next time.
This one is brilliant. Truly. Mrs. Ryan keeps a notebook called “The Complaint Book.” Whenever a little person grumbles about one of her classmates, Mrs. Ryan offers the book.
“It’s simple,” she explains to them, “all you need to do is register your complaint, the names of two other classmates who witnessed it, and three ways you’ve tried to fix the problem.”
In her 30-plus years of teaching, the complaint book is still empty.
4. Keep some yellow pages (or a self-esteem file).
I actually already do this! I’ve often talked about my self-esteem file, and coming up in a video blog, I’m going to read you some of the more meaningful notes in the folder.
In David’s class, each person gets to be a “star of the week.” David was the first star since his last name starts with B. (I took that into consideration when Eric asked me to marry him … Cool! Our kids would be at the front of the line! I always resented Eddy Alexander through 12 years of school … sorry, I digress).
David came home with his folder last week with a grin as wide as I’ve seen since he got the pirate birthday party he asked for (treasure chests and everything). Each student said something nice about him … many noticed he was a fast runner, a good artist, he had a nice laugh. I saw in my son what happens when I read through my self-esteem file and remember the attributes about myself that I don’t think about or appreciate, but other people do.
Mrs. Ryan puts all the sheets together, and she calls it the Kindergarten “Yellow Pages.” So if someone needs a fast runner or a nice laugher, they know to go to David. Cool, huh!
5. Let the gingerbread man talk.
This one gives me anxiety. I’ve already told Mrs. Ryan that everything that enters our house gets lost in our house; it never leaves. That’s why we don’t check out books from the library or rent Blockbuster movies anymore. It’s too stressful finding them when they’re due.
In David’s class, one student goes home with a gingerbread man (little stuffed guy), for the weekend, and the class gets to hear all about the gingerbread’s adventures. This is Mrs. Ryan’s way of introducing the kids to public speaking without their thinking about it like that. Because it’s about the GINGERBREAD MAN, not them! So, quite naturally, they’ll explain what, exactly, the gingerbread saw and did at their homes (in my case … in what pile he was lost); they’ll give the class a presentation of their own activities and hobbies and home life without the pressure of having to talk about themselves.
What a wonderful way to approach our fears! Put it into third person. The gingerbread man is having a hard time with her diet today. The gingerbread is feeling very codependent and wants to call a friend who wasn’t nice to her. The gingerbread man is dying for a martini. You get the point.
I sort of do this with my doll idea (as you saw yesterday).
Mrs. Ryan assured me that she has spares of the gingerbread man, for the unorganized, clutter-magnet moms in her class like me.
6. Use the magical lotion to heal.
Mrs. Ryan keeps a bottle of ointment she calles her “magical lotion.” Whenever a student complains of an ache, a sting, a discomfort, she gets out the bottle and applies some of the healing remedy on the injury. Many times the wound immediately feels better! Which means that 1) we all just need a little care and attention here and there, and 2) our minds are much more powerful than we think.
Did you want to add any rules?
To read more Beyond Blue, go to www.beliefnet.com/beyondblue, and to get to Group Beyond Blue, a support group at Beliefnet Community, click here.
Read Previous Post
