friends become enemies, enemies become friends

Anyone who watches Family Guy knows that's a quote from the episode where Stewie taunts Brian about that novel he's been workin' on.

This post is actually not about a novel, and I didn't become enemies with any of my friends. I did however, become friends with one of my "enemies."

Let's call her Lucy. She was one of the students in the first grade class where I was substitute teaching.  There is always without fail, one student who comes up to me before class starts and says, "Is you our guest teacher?" There's one in every class, and in this class it was Lucy. And just like that, my preconceived notion of Lucy was born.

She didn't fail to meet every one of the expectations I had dreamed up about her. She was loud. She was bossy. She fought with other students. And my biggest pet peeve as a sub, she was that student who was in no way shy about telling me exactly how their teacher normally runs the class. (At which point I silence the students, wave the piece of paper in my hand, and say, "Your teacher left me great notes about how to do my job. I think I'll stick with those.") I knew I would have my hands full with Lucy that day.

As much as teachers don't like to admit this, we are human. We form judgments about students. (Especially as a sub...you have about 10 minutes to "get to know" the kids before you start teaching them!) We mentally embrace those easygoing, rule-abiding, high-achieving students, and mentally cringe at the students who we find swinging from a proverbial chandelier the moment we turn our backs. Like I said, we're only human.

Back to Lucy and her first grade class. I had succeeded in using my Love and Logic language on the students that morning. "I listen to students who raise their hands." "We'll start when everyone is quiet, with a calm body and hands in their lap." "It really makes me sad for you that I might have to take away a minute of recess. I hope we can find a way to fix that." The students were responding fairly well, but they were a chatty group, and I was relieved when lunch time rolled around.

The students struggled to form a quiet, straight line to go to lunch, and there was plenty of "budging" going on. My policy is: "Send the Budgers to the back of the line!" Guess who happened to be one of the budgers? That's right. Lucy.

"Sorry, Lucy. You know the rule. What happens when we budge in line?"

"You go to the back."

"That's right. You'll have to go to the end of the line. Bummer."

I expected Lucy to stomp her feet all the way to the back with narrowed eyes and arms folded across her chest. What she did next, I could have never predicted.

Lucy threw her head back, and screamed bloody murder. Then she screamed again. And again. And again.

For a moment, I froze. I couldn't decide whether to laugh, cry, or yell at her. Then, thankfully, common sense and teacher mode kicked in. I calmly told the line leader to start walking toward the cafeteria. Best to take the other students out of the picture. I knew the only way to get Lucy calm would be by remaining calm myself. So I waited for her to run out of breath, and jumped in as soon as I had a second of silence.

"Lucy I know that was very upsetting, but remember that screaming and crying are not going to solve the problem. Please use your words."

No response. More screaming.

I tried a different tactic, "Lucy, if you don't stop crying you're going to have to eat lunch with me instead of with your friends. That would really be a bummer." After all, who wants to eat with the teacher?

Her ears perked up. The screaming turned into a soft whimper and a shaky breath. She took my hand as I helped her off the ground, and we walked to the cafeteria where the rest of the class was waiting in line for hot lunch.

I made sure to thank her for making a good decision: "Lucy, that was a great decision. Now you can stay in the cafeteria for lunch and join your friends!" I veritably skipped back to the classroom, dug into my lunch bag, and sighed with contentment.

Then the door creaked open. Expecting one of the other first grade teachers coming to check in on me, I pasted a confident, professional smile on my face. Instead, I saw Lucy balancing her tray in one hand as she pushed open the door with the other. She was grinning from ear to ear, excited, excited, about eating with the teacher. My heart sank. The peaceful lunch I had dreamed of was slowly slipping away.

Wanting to avoid another scene, I tread carefully the uncharted territory I was about to embark upon.

"Lucy! Hi! I'll walk you back down to the cafeteria where you can eat with your friends."

"But you said I could eat with you!" Oh, how my intentions had been misunderstood. That was supposed to be a punishment!

"Remember that since you made the right decision, Lucy, you can eat in the cafeteria with the other kids. Let's go!" I herded her out the door and down the stairs. She reluctantly followed behind, but I could tell she was ready to blow at any moment.

Then it happened: "But I want to eat with you-ou-ou!" She gasped in between sobs. I did not have the energy for this. As I was on the verge of losing my patience, a teacher's assistant thankfully heard the ruckus, and rushed over to help. She steered L to the caf, and instructed me to go take my lunch break. #relief

At recess, Lucy walked over and joined me on a bench. 'Perfect opportunity to make a connection,' I thought.

"So, Lucy, are you doing better?"

"Yeah."

"Can you tell me about why you were so upset at lunch?"

"I guess I was just stressed about my mom and dad."

Understanding was beginning to dawn upon my judgmental mind. "And why were you stressed about that?"

"I just don't know when my dad will get out of jail." Lucy avoided eye contact.

Feeling terrible about myself, I prompted her, "So you're living with just Mom?"

"No. My mom's in rehab. I'm living with my gramma." She fiddled with her name tag.

At this point I wanted to kick myself. "Grandma takes good care of you, though, right?"

Lucy nodded. "She takes care of me and my sister - she's one years old."

"That must be really tough, Lucy." What else do you say when using God's Word is not an option?

We decided together to make the afternoon better.

I couldn't believe how we shared a connection the rest of the day. Whenever I could tell she was starting to get rambunctious, I made eye contact with her and smiled. She would smile back, and the situation would be immediately smoothed over. At the end of the day, we even hugged before I left.

So what's the point?

1. Love and Logic really works. When your students know you really care about them and have their best interest in mind, they want to behave for you. The problem with substitute teaching, is that you don't have the opportunity to form that relationship and trust. 
2. I am so grateful and in awe of those public school teachers. The work they do with large classes and challenging students, among other issues, is incredible. 
3. I am grateful that I will have the opportunity to use God's Word in the job I have next year. It's really hard to avoid talking about your Savior when a student has a difficult situation. Every child I teach is a blood-bought child of God. If he loves them, they are also worthy of my love and kindness.
4. A great reminder to "Be kinder than necessary, for everyone you meet is fighting some sort of battle." (not sure who originally said this. Some say Plato, some say John Watson.) Christ showed this kindness to me first, even when I was still dead in sin. 

Make someone's day through your kind words or actions. Especially the most ornery, angry, or mean person you can find. 

Keep dreaming, dreamers.