Dad on Duty #93

My first day back, in a while.  We were on Christmas break, and I also missed a couple days because of work.

It feels so good to be here again.  Let’s see what today has in store for us.

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Janae, our librarian, bumps into me in the hallway and says “oh my gosh…you MUST come see the box of poop I got”.

Well, yeah.  I think I gotta see that.  Who wouldn’t?

This is an actual product:  Poop-related erasers than can be given out to students as positive reinforcement.

Really.

This was somebody’s job.

An actual team of brainiacs at this company had a meeting, and intentionally decided to spend a crap-load (pun intended) of investment money to manufacture these things and send them to thousands of schools all over the country, in the hope that they would buy a bazillion dollars worth of doo-doo.

The box Janae got contained, literally, hundreds of various poop icons.

“You gonna give them out to kids?” I ask, honestly wondering.  She stares at me for a second before replying…”um, no.  Who would do that?  But I am going to give them out at staff meetings”.

Yeah, that’d be perfect.

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Our counselor, Heather, is a real gift to our school.  Everyday, she does imaginative, interesting and engaging stuff.

As I have learned more about what really happens inside schools, and what needs to happen inside schools, I notice her work more and more.

I am understanding that the emotional and social learning that happens here is at least as important as the traditional didactic learning we are charged with.

This is a great example:  a bulletin board reminding students…in a fun, engaging and effective way….to take an active role in determining their own affect, mood and internal dialogue.  Pretty heavy stuff.

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We have a rule that if it’s below 40 degrees, we don’t do recess or PE outside.

Depending upon which weather app you reference, it’s right at 40, or a little above.

So now it’s a grey area.

But here’s the thing; kids that can’t go outside and run around, are not kids you want to spend the rest of the day with.  Really, they aren’t.  It is no fun.

On the other hand, a portion (importantly….not all…..) of the staff must be outside with the kids.

So, there is a division among the troops.

If I am a 4th grade teacher, but I don’t have recess duty today, I think sending them outside is the best idea I’ve ever heard in my entire life.  On the other hand, if I am an aid assigned to 2nd grade, and I have not just one…but two….recess assignments, one of which is watching your 4th grade kids, that I won’t see the rest of the day, I’m thinking:  42 degrees is damn cold.  I think outside time is an awful idea.

And here we are.  It’s time to make a call.

Kindergarten opts to stay in.  They are fairly easy to contain.  We outweigh those kids 10:1.

But first grade gets frisky.  While their kids are at lunch, I go to the first grade teachers to ask what they want to do with their kids for recess…how and where do we flow them?  The teachers ask me for the temp (weather underground says 44 at that moment), and they decisively state “we are going to the playground”.  OK, lemme check that with the Boss.

She thumbs up, with the caveat that “they know what they’re doing, right?”  I think so, yeah.

Second grade also heads out to the playground, kinda on their own.

By the time third grade is headed down the hall, my understanding is that we are going outside.  Everybody is.  (“A panini maker for you…and you…and you…”  gimme a slow clap if you get the Oprah reference….).

So as third grade marches out of the cafeteria and they ask where they’re going, I tell them “outside!”.

The teachers are not entirely clear.  There has not been an official announcement saying they can go outside.  But one boy, who happens to be African American, goes to his teacher and pronounces “the big white guy said we can go outside!”, with genuine glee.

We are fairly sure he was referring to my shirt…which is shockingly white.  But still, it was pretty darn funny.  Regardless, his reference to the “big white guy” convinces the teachers, and outside they go.

Turns out, I was wrong.  Sorry Heather Hill.  Y’all were NOT supposed to go outside, because we had already re-routed the recess manpower.  So third grade got to walk out, get cold, and then walk right back in.  Oops.  That was a 120 people I sent in a big, cold circle for no reason.

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I get a text from one of the teachers.

 

 

Well, I can’t decline that invitation.

I go down to the classroom, and a scholar, who is struggling both socially and academically, is anxiously awaiting me.  His teacher…a gifted educator, that we better hang on to….asked him if he’d like me to help with the snowflake construction project.  He lit up.  So she called for me.

He’s a great boy.  And I love every minute with him.

We work together to make the three best paper snowflakes anyone in the world has ever seen.  I sit on the carpet with him, using those tiny little scissors they give you in elementary school, and help him cut paper.

It was awesome.

When we’re done, his teacher asks “You want to take that home, or put it up here?”.

He thinks for a moment.  Then walks our snowflake to his cubby and says “I’m keeping it”.

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As I walk around outside today, picking up lunchboxes and jackets, I really look at the building.  I’ve seen every inch of this place.  But today as I look at it, I realize; I love this building.

It has a soul, which is comprised of little pieces of the hearts and souls of everyone who has worked here, volunteered here…..cared for your kids here.

I see it, hear it and feel it so clearly now.

This has been a great place for us.  And it will be for so many others, for years to come.

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Our time here is coming to an end.  It is palpable.

And so many changes are coming so fast.  Tori in particular; everyday there is a noticeable change in her, physically, socially and emotionally.  It is staggering, in both scale and speed.

Today, I had probably 10 people, both parents and teachers, ask “what are you going to do next year?” Or “who’s taking your job?”

We are all aware.  You can hear the clock ticking.  Loudly.

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After we got home today, and I dropped the girls off, I went to run an errand.  I ended up behind a middle school bus, as it was dropping off some kids.

As I sit and wait, I recognize one of the boys getting off the bus.  He was one of “my boys” the last couple of years at McCoy.  I spent a lot of time with him.

And I felt like my time with him made a difference.  He’d get in trouble, but I could almost always get him to respond and make some better choices.

We genuinely liked each other.  He would do a lot of little jobs with me.  And he did them well.

He’s a smart, sweet boy.  With real gifts.

As I watched him climb off the bus a few feet in front of me, I wondered; how is he doing now?  Is he OK?  Is there somebody at middle school that spends time with him, can get him back on track when he acts out or makes a bad choice?

Is someone taking care of him like we did?

I almost got out of the truck and went to him, to ask those questions.

Then realized; no, that’s probably not appropriate.

So, as he walked away toward his house, and the flashing lights on the bus shut off, I drove on to my errand.

Thinking about him, and worrying…..and then praying….the whole way.

You know that “footprints in the sand” story?  As I reflect on my reaction to seeing this boy, I realize there are footprints on my soul now.   Hundreds and hundreds of them.

Some of them are little dance steps, light and airy.  Some are more like tire tracks.

But those little feet changed me.

And those little footprints will never, ever go away.