Not-So-Civil Disobedience

I often say, half-jokingly, that many kids come to kindergarten in the "not yet civilized" phase of existence. Coming from teaching upper grades, I found it endlessly frustrating at first to have to take time out from teaching reading, writing, and math to teach It's Not Okay to Smack The Kid Next to You, Please Close the Door While You're Going to the Bathroom, and Kindly Refrain From Blatantly Picking Your Nose While I'm Teaching (and Looking Right At You).

Three years in, though, I'm used to it, and have come to accept the fact that teaching kids this young is an entirely different ball of wax from teaching the big kids. Tying shoes, buttoning pants, fixing boo-boos, and teaching manners aren't high on the to-do list of most 5th grade teachers, but in kindergarten, they're all in a day's work....and turning a group of Wild Things into tiny humans in a few months' time ain't easy, but it's definitely rewarding. Plus, kindergarteners are big on hugs, "I love you"'s, and enthusiasm, which (along with watching non-readers transform into readers right before our eyes) makes the whole experience worthwhile.

I'd like to believe that I've gotten pretty adept at managing the behavior of a couple dozen 5-year-olds; that I've mastered the fine art of singing, chanting, and call-and-responsing our way from one activity to the next; and that I've settled into a kind-yet-firm demeanor that effectively addresses behavior issues when they come up. I'd like to believe that, but this year, we've got ourselves a couple of kiddos who've just about seen the bottom of my bag of tricks already...and it's only September.

Here's the thing: most kids' behavior is relatively easy to manage by playing into their desire to please adults. Even Ellie, at not even 18 months old, knows praise or scolding when she hears them and reacts accordingly. When kids behave the way adults want them to, we smile, hug them, compliment them, and reward them; when they misbehave, we frown, reprimand, and give consequences. Simple, right? (When you think about it, it's interesting to note how we basically raise children to be people-pleasers, and then spend their teen and adult years trying to convince them to resist peer pressure, be individuals, and "think outside the box" to become successful in life. Sure, passive obedience is convenient for parents and teachers, but how many truly great individuals in history lived by all the rules and never challenged authority?)

All of this goes out the window, however, when you're thrown the curveball of a child who doesn't want adults' approval; who thrives on negative attention; who delights in causing frustration or anger in caretakers; and who makes it his or her primary occupation to test every single boundary, every single minute of every single day. All the sticker charts, modeling, pep talks, warnings, behavior contracts, parental support, bribes, consequences, encouragement, lecturing, and persuasion in the world mean nothing to a child who simply has no desire to conform, or to obey even the most basic of rules. We've got a couple of those this year, and while their personal histories explain the "why" of their behavior, the "how to help them" part is much less clear.

It is, to say the least, a challenge. There are no teacher prep courses entitled "Teaching the Defiant Child," and nothing in the eight years that I've taught remotely resembles the situation at hand. Even with two partners (my jobshare partner and the teacher who shares our classroom), an aide, and a team of supportive personnel on the case, we're going on eight weeks into the school year and still seem to be taking two steps forward and (at least) one step back in terms of progress. I consider myself to be a patient and optimistic person, but there are days when I leave wanting to do nothing more than huddle up in bed for a week, with only an ice chest of Diet Cherry Dr. Pepper and a stack of "Friends" DVD's to sustain me. And hey, there are worse coping mechanisms.

Most days, though, I'm looking at this as a professional growth opportunity. I've already learned a ton, tried techniques I've never had to use before, and added some items to my bag of tricks that, while they may not work with these individual students, may serve other kids well in the future. I've experienced behaviors I'd previously only ever seen on "SuperNanny," and met them with an even tone and calm expression. I believe I have, in fact, earned an Oscar nomination--or at least an Emmy--for the role of Unflappable Teacher, and stand proudly by my record of never once having raised my voice or shown anger toward either of these children. (Here's where my reality TV addiction comes in handy: all I have to do is picture a roomful of hidden cameras watching my every move--and occasionally factor in a $250,000 prize on the line--and double-dog dare myself to look like I absolutely expect and know how to handle everything that happens. Am I always 100% successful? I doubt it...but I think I'm doing as well as any human being possibly could, under the circumstances!) I've gained a great deal of sympathy for what parents of children with behavior disorders and various emotional issues must go through.

In a strange way, I've also learned that teaching isn't always about the warm fuzzies. Whether or not they hug me, love me, obey me, or please me, every one of the kids in my classroom deserves the best education--in reading, writing, math, manners, behavior, whatever--that I have to offer them, for as long as I have them. And however challenging that process may be, there is something to love about every one of them...whether or not they ever sit "criss-cross applesauce" or keep their behavior clip on green.

But I definitely need a spa day.