The Little Things

I have a lot of little things in my life right now.

They are five years old and they all speak Spanish. They are the coolest kids ever. Last week I went wild and decided to finger paint with them. The morning class was complete chaos. Kids were painting on the tables and their aprons. They got paint on their faces and even on my clothes. It was wild, but a ton of fun.

I made some drastic changes in the plan, and went for it again during the afternoon. AND, it was fantastic. After we started, there was complete silence. They were so into painting. Instead of fingers, we used long q-tips. They experimented with mixing colors, and painted some really creative and wonderful things.

They kept asking the para and I to help them paint cool things like dragons, crocodiles, and ShinyNathan.

*Side story:
This week we studied insects and birds. On Monday morning, I caught a butterfly, brought him to class, and let the students name him. The morning class named him Shiny. The afternoon class? Nathan. One of the school's students shook Shiny/Nathan until he become... immobile.

Each week we use our "magic" to create a new letter out of paper. "Abracadabra, Kalamazoo, turn this paper into something new, WOOSH." So, to avoid approaching the "death" subject, I told them that I was practicing my magic, and I missed. I accidentally hit Shiny/Nathan's jar, and POOF. He disappeared. However, I told them that he was still out there somewhere and to keep their eyes open.

For the next three days, students came to class with testimonials of seeing Shiny/Nathan in their aunt's back yard, outside the school, in the park, and many other random places, like the produce section of the grocery store.*

So, after the painting, the students were on a creative trip. The smartest student in the class, which I told you about a couple posts earlier, told me, "I'm going to be an artist when I grow up, Mr. Seth." How awesome? Well, when his dad arrived, he told him the same thing. His dad looked at him square in the face and said, "No you're not."

And that was that.

I was slightly devastated. I spent an entire class period encouraging artistry and creativity in my students, and in one moment, a parent squashed that. I felt in that moment that I could do wonderful things to encourage original and abstract thinking in my students on a daily basis, but that effort could be smashed by their parents each evening. Why do children love to color, draw, paint and be creative while adults despise the thought of it? What changes in us?

Regardless of the answer, I want to strive to incorporate that kind of thinking. I want to strive to be "that" teacher. The "loud" one. The "unorthodox" one. The "a little off" one. The "_______(fill in the blank)" one.

How can I incorporate that? Here's my first idea.

An Airzooka. Shoot it at kids that aren't paying attention, sleeping, or get an incorrect answer. 

If only that would get approved by my principals. Long shot. Going for it. 

Peace, love, and Airzookas, ya'll.