Check your Self-Esteem at the Door

Twenty-eight years ago I taught school at Pleasant Grove Junior High. It was a blow to my self-esteem. I had about 180 students divided up into six classes of Art and English. I was young had difficulty motivating the kids and keeping them disciplined enough to get them through forty-five minutes. Danny was sort of a class smart-alec and it was obvious that he was smart and probably knew more than I did on the subject of English grammar--which to be honest is still not my strength (though since them I graduated magna cum laude in English. But I digress, back then Danny loved to throw me off my game and it worked. A few times, what he said was actually quite funny. I'd quickly turn my back on the kids so they wouldn't see me laugh. Other times, I turned my back so they wouldn't see me cry. Once I did cry--not a cool thing--to a bunch of rowdy thirteen-year-olds.

I taught for one year at P.G.J.H and then joined my husband to teach  in Grouse Creek, Utah. We had 24 students K-10. Since my self-esteem was already rock bottom it improved some over the few years. I had fun. I loved the kids we had though some of them still loved to throw me off my game. I taught for a few years before we moved to Paradise.

As most of you know, I'm back out to Grouse Creek teaching once again with my husband. This time around we have only have ten kids spread from K-5th grade. My self-esteem was pretty good before I started teaching again. I'm a fairly respected potter in Cache Valley and an author of five published novels, so you know, I was feeling pretty good about myself. So how is it that a kindergartner can throw you off your game with a few comments and say things so funny that it's hard not to laugh out loud.

Here's just a bit of wisdom from a couple of very cute five year olds. While I was attempting to teach reading, one of the kids said, "Hey, you're growing a mustache, you've got hairs right here," as  he pointed to my face. Another time this same child warned me to be careful "you might break it," while I was hanging from the tricky bars sturdy enough to hold an elephant. Another time, this same child mentioned that I was "painting sloppy." Did I mention my art degree? Just the other day, I was trying to console a 7-year-old who was very upset that he couldn't draw a butterfly as well as I could. I told him, that I was a whole fifty years older than he was and so had fifty more years drawing butterflies. One of the five-year-olds piped up with, my grandpa is really old too..."damn old." I burst out laughing.