A First in Teaching

Teaching is always an adventure. An adventure in seemingly-senseless paperwork, ever-changing schedules, lack of bathroom breaks, and oh yes, spending all day with 10-year-olds.

But this past week, I experienced something new. And I have to share it.

To begin the math period, my students have a math warm-up of a mere four questions. Some breeze through it in 30 seconds while others could take a year and only answer three of them.

After a short time, the students pass their papers to the right and a classmate corrects their work. It's quick exercise and allows me to see how well the students are retaining their skills.

Now, the scenario is this. I have just walked around to the groups, quickly picking up the stacks of corrected papers. I arrive at group 6 and immediately can tell something is amiss.

I scan the group but everything seems normal. I must be imagining things.

"Please hand me your papers, you guys." (Yes, I'm one of those teachers who still says 'you guys' even when referring to a group that also includes girls. They tell you not to do that but old habits die hard.)

Four of the students hand me their papers. J.P., we'll call him, does not. Nor do I see it on his desk.

"J.P., where's your paper?"

no response.

I look to the other kids, raising my eyebrows and giving them the teacher look that says, "Someone had better tell me what's going on RIGHT NOW."

A brave soul ventures to tell the unfortunate truth, "Umm, Ms. Fink, he ATE it."

Yup. ATE his worksheet. Because he only got one answer correct.

I guess it made sense to him.

And just to clarify, he didn't quite eat it. I know, because I instructed him to open his mouth and watched him spit out the soggy, wadded-up ball of copy paper.

And that's my job.