For this week and next Tuesday half of my teaching class is gracing the halls of Scera Park Elementary School in Orem, and I am helping Mrs. Culliman's fourth grade class for three hours every day.
Today I was in charge of supervising the class's PE (which apparently there is no separate teacher for) while Mrs. Culliman received the guest speaker for the afternoon (he was from NASA, which is a different awesome story). They were playing a version of Capture the Flag and were getting very into it (as I am sure most fourth graders would). Side B finally scored, although the culprit had been tagged by a fellow from Side A before he crossed into safe territory. When Side A fellow (let's call him Justin, because I really haven't learned everyone's name yet, but he looks like my friend Justin) yelled that he had tagged Side B man (whose name I do know, but I still think he looks like this kid Brett from when I subbed at Tussing last summer), everyone (especially from Side B) wailed that only two-handed touches got people out. Justin went over to the corner and started to cry, and after I started the next round, I went over to him.
I feel that comforting children is a little hit or miss. In my experience, they either believe you and immediately get over it or ignore you. I really didn't think this was going to work very well, especially since I didn't even know Justin's real name, but I tried to let him know it wasn't his fault and he still did a really good job of tagging Brett. (I have also found this week that when I take the blame for things that go wrong, the kids get less angry.) I told him it was my fault for not letting everyone know that only a two-handed touch got people out, and said I would announce it to everyone so that wouldn't happen again.
I thought about taking the approach that this was just a game, and the next time they played it everyone would start out equal again, but obviously this "just a game" mattered to Justin. So I tried to pep him up and said that his team really needed him to make up that point to tie the game, and they couldn't get a point without him. I asked him to get back up and play when he was ready.
And guess what? That little dude totally scored the next point. I couldn't believe it. I didn't really believe he would take what I said so seriously, but the smile on Justin's face after he ran into the safety zone was incredible. (Of course there was the inevitable "I tagged him already!", "That's not fair!", "He cheated!" chants from the opposing side, but there was no way I was going to dismiss that point Justin had earned.)
What a testament to the power of positive thinking. I didn't really believe what I said myself, but the important thing is that Justin believed it, and he put it into action. I know it's typical for children to change moods quickly, but seriously, he just turned that failure right around into something game-changing. I was honored to give him a high-five as we headed back to class. If only I could believe those positive things I tell myself and others as easily as Justin did!
1 comment:
What we believe shapes our reality. That is why we tend to see what we believe we will see, hear what we believe we will hear and feel what we believe we will feel. So if we expect things to go our way then we will find a way to see that they do. Like the story about the fellow playing baseball by himself. He throws the ball up and swings with the bat...and misses terribly. He initially is discouraged because he thought he was a great hitter, but then smiles and determines that he REALLY is a great pitcher.--Dad
Post a Comment