Lately, my six-year-old daughter has been rather obsessed with the idea of fighting bad guys. Maybe I’ve been letting her watch too many shows about kid superheroes. Who knows?
One day, I collect her from afternoon care and see that she’s made a paper mask and is carrying a couple of sticks she picked up. When I ask her about them, she explains:
Daughter: “This is my superhero mask, and this stick is for threatening people so they go away. But if they don’t go away, I have this other one so I can stab them in the heart so they die.”
Me: “Wow, that sounds pretty violent.”
Daughter: “Yes, that’s why I made this creepy mask. It’s to scare them away, because I don’t want to have to be a murderer. Because then I would have to go to kid jail, and then I could never go to a sleepover again.”
I’m honestly not sure how I’m supposed to respond to that. I can’t fault her logic, at least! And for the record, no, she has never tried to stab anyone in real life.
I am a junior primary teacher teaching year two — seven- and eight-year-olds. My class is on Free Activity, playing quietly in the classroom. I take a phone call from the principal. We are having a serious discussion about the consequences for [Male Student’s] recent behaviour.
Female Student: *Running up* “MISS [MY NAME], I NEED TO POOP!”
Me: *To the principal* “One moment.” *To the student* “Okay, [Female Student]. Please go to the toilet.”
Female Student: *At top volume* “I NEED TO POOP! IT’S COMIN’ OUT!”
Me: “Okay, just stay calm and go to the toilet—”
Female Student: “I’M HOLDIN’ IT IN BUT IT’S COMING OUT!”
Me: *To the principal* “I think I need to handle this.”
I hung up. The student needed some persuading to stop yelling and go to the toilet. She was fine and didn’t need a change of pants. In fact, she came back in with a huge grin and a thumbs-up! Later, when I went to see my principal to continue our discussion, he and the vice principal were having a big giggle about what they’d heard through the phone.
I worked at an elementary school summer camp one summer with nine kids aged one to three attending the camp. There were two of us working that summer so we each had to watch four or five kids at all times. At the end of the summer, my boss asked if I’d come back the next summer to work at the camp again and I agreed, assuming it would be about the same as this year.
The following summer, I showed up for work and found out that this year we had two workers to watch nineteen kids all aged one to three. Needless to say, I’ve never been so exhausted or changed so many diapers in my life.
I am tasked with taking a video inventory of my entire school. This worries the other teachers, as a lot of their classroom supplies are their personal property, not the district’s. I assure them that this is just for insurance purposes, and they have nothing to worry about. The day before I’m to begin the inventory, I send this email.
Email: “I know I’ve previously stated that the video inventory will not affect anything you personally own in your classroom. However, I have received word from the central office that anything on the recording will be considered district property. Please remove all personal furniture, books, posters, supplies, etc., from your rooms by the end of the day. See me if you have any questions.”
A few minutes later a teacher, who’s probably been in the same classroom for twenty years, comes storming into my room. She’s livid.
Teacher: “Do you have any idea how much personal equipment I have in my classroom? Do you have any idea how impossible it’s going to be for me to move it all out? Do you want to go down there right now and have a look?”
Me: “Look, let’s deal with this logically. First of all, what’s today’s date?”
Teacher: “April… first.” *Pause* “You son of a b****.”
Another teacher left a pile of feathers on my desk, with a note saying the tar was coming soon.
I teach fourth grade. I’m trying to get my students familiar with the nations of the world.
Me: “[Student], please name a country.”
Student: “Oh, man…”
Me: “Correct.”
