Beyond Books: Stories from the Heart

Should a 50-Year-Old Male Teach Grade 2?

By Alain Briand

When I was asked last summer if I would consider teaching Grade 2, my first reaction was a total body freeze.

Once thawed, I asked, “How many kids?” “Seventeen,” was the response, “mostly all boys.” Seventeen? Does that number even constitute a class? I’ve taught classes where I had 17 students in one group, never mind the entire class.

A warm feeling spread through my body. I quickly said yes. My mind raced at the prospect of getting rid of 13 desks.

Room! I’ll have room! I envisioned bringing the tables I had stored in the hall for the past 12 years back into the classroom.

Peace and quiet! Just how noisy are seven-year-olds? I was giddy with excitement. I was dizzy with delight. It was rapture before retirement.

A few days before school started, I went in to look over the Grade 2 curriculum. My first reaction upon seeing the math and language arts components was, “Isn’t this just plain common sense? Just how dumb are they? Sight words? What the heck are sight words? Word walls?” Then the big day came. Looking around at my class of pint-sized mini-men and the odd girl, I realized my learning curve was about to take a turn, straight up.

Has it been easy teaching Grade 2? Hell no! But I have learned that I can make underarm sounds with the best of them. If I turn one student upside down in class, I have to flip everyone over. If I tell them to go face first into their birthday cakes before they take a bite, they listen. If I hide one student’s desk in another room, they all want their desks hidden. If I try to cheat in floor hockey, they attack and jump all over me.

I am the only sane or semi-sane male role model in the lives of many of my boys. We work hard, laugh hard and delight in one another’s humanness. Thank goodness for mischievous little boys because, with any luck, they will become mischievous 50-year-old men.

Should a 50-year-old male teach Grade 2? You’ve got to try it at least once. What a rush! And yes, you can colour every picture you draw in Grade 2 with the blue pen you brought from home.

Alain Briand has taught kindergarten to Grade 6 at Notre Dame School in Leduc for the past 24 years.

A Teacher’s Mother Lode

By Marian Wilson

I discovered early in my teaching career that if I could find something to like about each student, then my job was a pleasure. It could be a student’s sense of humour or ability to sketch a dragon, or even something as minor as a student holding open a door for me. Sometimes the gem that helps me to like a student is difficult to find.

Thankfully, it’s often easy to like them; it’s easy to love them.

Colton was one such student. I first taught him five years ago when he arrived with his classmates for Language Learning 5. He returned for Language Arts 7, 8 and 9. I never had to struggle to find that nugget with Colton—he was a gold mine.

Colton always wanted to do his best, so he wasn’t afraid to ask questions and participate in class—two things that set most Grade 9 students’ hearts aflutter.

Though Colton preferred political thrillers and I’m a sucker for fantasy, we shared a love of reading. He wasn’t one to waste time and often tucked himself into a book when his work was completed.

Colton was diagnosed with cancer last February. He began immediate and aggressive treatment. The treatment took his strength and his hair but not his essence. He remained a vein of precious gems. The school population delighted each and every time he was strong enough to attend school.

His last treatment was to be in early December. Unfortunately, his immune system was so compromised that his body was susceptible to everything.

December 16 may have been our last school day before Christmas holidays, but it was much more than that. It was Colton’s last day.

Colton was easy to love, and we think of him constantly. His classmates are learning how to make it through a 40-minute class without him to shush them back to work. Colton’s team mates are struggling to support one another without his reassuring presence. We are all mourning the loss of his slightly sarcastic yet never mean sense of humour.

Though I could never accurately articulate the depth or wealth of Colton’s mother lode, it is the little treasures that I think of most. Hearing him praise the efforts of another student did something warm and fuzzy for the nurturer in me. I miss that.

Being a language arts teacher, I read typed work and scribbled work, but mostly I read a printing/writing hybrid that most students have adopted.

Colton adopted none of these. It sounds silly and unimportant, but his beautiful handwriting touched my teacher’s soul.

I miss that. I miss him.

Marian Wilson teaches junior high language arts, French and science at Rosemary School in Rosemary.

A Higher Education?

By Lisa Hannay

In this age of feelings education, character education, virtues projects and Morality 101 and the focus on assessment for learning, of learning, about learning, it can be difficult for a high school teacher to know if she is breaking through to the jumble of students she faces September through June.

With the inception of an advisor program a few years ago, I was given the opportunity to connect with and mentor 20 students through their entire high school journey at Brooks Composite High School. This opportunity, however, was not without its hard knocks, downfalls, windstorms and icebergs.

Student: “Why do we have to do this?” Teacher: “But I’m bonding with you.” Student: “This sucks!” Teacher: “Feel the love!” Around Christmas, a vocal young woman asked me what colours were featured in my living room. With some trepidation and fearing the worst, I said green. She looked slightly crestfallen but a smile returned to her face when I said I also had a bit of blue and burgundy.

A few days later (of hard knocks, downfalls, windstorms and icebergs), the young woman presented me with a nicely wrapped gift and a smile.

I was stunned. She was in Grade 12 and had been opposed to the advisor class. I couldn’t recall anything in particular that I had done or said. I had only tried to get to know each student every day.

Inside the package was a green wall-hanging with painted lettering that brought tears to my eyes: “Teaching is the occupation that creates all others.” Those words hang on my living room wall and she has a place in my heart.

Lisa Hannay is the Special Education Coordinator at Brooks Composite High School in Brooks.