Freddy Finally Smiles
Unlocking my classroom door I am immediately met with the happy and colorful, but always busy, home away from home that I have worked so hard to carefully and caringly create for my students. All summer long, especially during the last few weeks of summer vacation, I have thought about, and worked on ways to make our classroom even more inviting, purposefully planning out how to make it even more welcoming. I want my students to love coming to school, excitedly entering each day as I had done many years ago.
As was my intent, the first thing that meets the eye is the classroom Book Nook Haven with its’ private purple place of peace. Wanting my students to immediately notice it first thing each morning, I hope it always shouts out “Welcome and please come in” to my students as they enter our classroom. I so want to share my joy and love of learning, and of reading, and of course, of books.
It’s the first day of the new school year! Feeling as excited, emotional, and enthusiastic as I imagined my students probably were, despite the fact that we had already spent a wonderful year together, goose bumps of anticipation pop out and cover my arms. It’s almost as if they were incubating all my plans for the fun and joy of learning that I hoped we would all have again this new school year.
I had missed each and every one of my returning munchkins, despite of all their unique personalities and little quirks I had come to know so well. Thinking back I remembered all the happy hours we had spent together lovingly learning, marveling at their momentous accomplishments and musing to myself at how much each of them had grown. I was really looking forward to another year of working with “my little chicks”, as I lovingly call them, and in helping each continue their joyful journey of learning.
I was saddened that a few of my chicks had left our “school family” and silently wished them good wishes in their new classrooms. Each of them would be sorely missed, but I am thankful to have another year with those who will still stay with me this year. Thinking back to how upset I initially was when our principal told me my assignment for the coming year would be Senior K for and that I would loop with the class to first grade the next year, I remember wanting to emphatically shout out “No! I don’t really want to do this!” Reminiscing I smile at how drastically my feelings changed over the course of the year. I now feel so appreciative that I had this opportunity to continue working with them for the two years. We all become so connected to one another that we were in fact a real school family!
As my little darlings file into our classroom with smiles and hugs that melt me on the spot I felt my eyes well up with tears of happiness and joy at seeing each again, silently counting each as one of my blessings, I can’t wait to begin our new year and journey together.
But, as life sometimes does, a curve ball was headed our way with the ring of our classroom phone. Just as they did last year, most students immediately got quiet while some reminded their chatty school brothers and sisters of what they needed to do when the teacher was on the phone. Secretly chuckling to myself at how easy I expected this year to be, I felt elated and thankful that all my “chicks” already knew the procedures and expectations of our classroom.
But, as luck will often have it, my school family was about to change, and in ways I never would have expected. I was informed that there would be a new student joining our classroom and that although he was already seven, he didn’t speak any English, and had never been in school before. I immediately panicked, thinking that surely someone in the office had made a huge mistake. Wishful thinking on my part as it turned out to be…
When Freddy first appeared at our classroom door, his body language spoke volumes. Cowering in fear, Freddy clearly let us know that he did not feel at all comfortable. Withdrawn and appearing to be extremely shy, Freddy’s painted a picture of poignant, pained panic. But in spite of his reluctance, Freddy’s eyes frantically, yet furtively, panned the room trying to see and take it all in. Although he was still overwhelmed he was also overtly intrigued, Freddy’s eyes seemed to scream out his interest in everything he now saw. And, while his eyes continued to be elusive, not at all interested in making any real eye contact, Freddy appeared entranced and drawn like a moth to light, busily trying to catch glimpses of all that he could. His “windows of the soul “whispered to me” conveying intelligence and a very keen desire and curiosity to learn. His was a desire that would turn out to be so infinitely more intense than I could have ever imagined, and as were soon to realize, Freddy possessed such a powerful, purposeful personal drive he would later amaze all of us with his innately, intense desire to learn.
Although I’m sure our room must have seemed like a vast sea of unknown and unfamiliar faces to him, Freddy continued to silently emote and emanate enthusiasm for learning in his furtive glances. As his grandfather pushed him inside the classroom doorway his tall lanky frame, a picture of mulish contortion, Freddy frantically tried to resist and fight against grandfather’s push. His beguiling and beautiful chocolate brown eyes seemed to plead with both his grandfather and I to give him more time to adjust to this new turn of events. When his grandfather eventually won the battle of wills and brawn, Freddy threw himself down on the floor burrowing himself into a ball. He refused to make any eye contact with me when I approached to soothe him and my heart went out to him. In his silent, speedy exit to escape, Freddy’s grandfather disappeared as if into thin air and was quickly no where to be seen. Frantically wondering what I should do next to show my compassion for Freddy’s blight and who was so obviously and overtly outraged. His extreme emotions emphatically cried out his silent, soulful secrets. Noticing that Freddy had now forced his frame into fetal position, I grasped for ideas of how to encourage him to leave the sense of safety he seemed to feel in the safe harbor that he had made by our classroom door. l so wanted him to come inside and join us, hoping we could all assuage his angered anxiety and make him feel lovingly welcome.
As a somewhat larger and more solid child than others his age, I knew it was not going to be possible for me to physically pull Freddy into a seat. I would, instead have to warily wait, for Freddy to want to join us. I could only imagine how lost he must have felt having no knowledge of the English language he heard everyone else speaking, and seeing no one else in the classroom who appeared as if they spoke his native language of Kosrai.
The other children in my class seemed mesmerized by Freddy’s strange behavior. Glancing around the room, they all appeared to be staring, spellbound by Freddy’s strange behavior. They appeared perplexed and bewildered, seemingly sharing my loss at what we should do. Suggestions including “Leave him alone for awhile”, “He’s scared by all of us” and even questions like “What’s wrong with him?” were all belted out. Quickly assessing the situation I thought their suggestion to leave him temporarily alone was probably the best course of action for the moment. Knowing I needed to restore some sort of normalcy for the rest of the class I decided to call for a class meeting and where else should we go? Back to everyone’s favorite place--the Book Nook. As I expected, the children were thrilled to come back to their favorite place in our room and some quickly claimed seats on the child-size furniture proudly stating that is was their right as they were “Day 1” on our weekly Book Nook schedule which was posted on the wall. I silently thought to myself how quick and clever those children were to make their claim and figured it was best to follow their lead and go with the flow.
Keeping an eye on Freddy with the corner of my eye, I felt it would be best if I were honest and share with the other students what little knowledge I had about Freddy. Explaining that his family had recently moved from another island in the Pacific where people spoke an entirely different language I asked them to close their eyes and take a few moments to think about how alone Freddy must be feeling having been uprooted from the only home he had ever known and then plopped down in a whole new strange and unfamiliar place Reiiterating for emphasis hoping to increase their empathy for Freddy, I stressed that he was now in a strange place where people spoke a completely foreign and mysterious language! I wondered aloud how Freddy would ever communicate with us.
Reminding my “chicks” of how we used to visualize painting pictures or movies in our minds of story events or situations I asked that they now try to put themselves in Freddy’s place in their movies. Many immediately appeared to be deep in thought as they pondered how they might feel, and thought about what they could do to help Freddy and make him feel a part of our school family. After a few quiet moments of thought I asked for everyone to take a turn sharing with the group how they had felt when putting themselves in Freddy’s shoes. Reoccurring themes of loneliness, sadness, fear, and abandonment and even anger were all suggested. Many nodded their heads in agreement as their classmates shared their thoughts openly volunteering that they had thought or felt that same way too.
Moving on to my next question I asked my “chicks” what they would have wanted their classmates to do to help them feel more welcome in their new classroom. This time suggestions were made including their perennial solution of giving him a hug, but they also suggested smiling at him, being his buddy, helping him learn English and using body motions to try and talk with him. I was very proud of them for so quickly feeling so nurturing and loving toward our new family member. I felt as if all of my past “sermons” had made a lasting impression on my formerly “egocentric” 5 and 6 year olds.
Meanwhile, Freddy was slowly beginning to inch his way on the floor, as a crab of insecurity, over to our group. Not wanting one of the children to blurt out a comment causing everyone else to stare at, or startle Freddy by raising their voices and cause him to move backwards, I took advantage of him not knowing English and explained to the children that we needed to ignore his movements for now and let him slowly join us in his own time. While there continued to be a few stolen glances, most thankfully seemed to understand the need for us to do this and did as requested.
As the other students made their way back to their seats a few asked: “Where’s Freddy going to sit?” Quickly glancing around the room noting that two of the table groups had empty desks, I immediately eliminated one of the tables because of the volatile makeup it was comprised of, but figured that the other would be fine. I quickly wrote out a nametag for Freddy and myself and walking over to Freddy I showed him my tag gesturing to myself, saying Mrs. Carlisle and pointing to my desk, again saying my name. Then, using more body language I walked over and placed his tag on the empty desk telling and showing Freddy that this was his seat.
He shook his head as if saying no, and taking his lead I again decided it was best to let him come join us in his own time. As I placed his name tag on his desk Freddy’s eyes seemed to mirror understanding and he appeared almost wistful about not already being in his seat. Choosing to read this as a positive sign we continued our normal opening exercises with Freddy actively watching all we were doing. His innate intelligence and desire to learn appeared to be gradually overshadowing his reluctance! As we stood to recite the pledges it almost seemed as if Freddy was going to stand up too, but then had second thoughts and instead continued to sit though continuing to watch us very closely. Give him more time I silently told myself again.
While continuing our daily routines talking about the calendar and number line Freddy continued to intently listen and observe. It even appeared as if he had inched himself closer to the group and was now leaning forward as if spellbound on the edge of his seat. Feeling thrilled, I exchanged secretive knowing smiles with some of my students who had also noticed Freddy’s intense interest and were now as thrilled for Freddy as I felt. The morning continued with us now moving to the back of our classroom and Freddy following along with his ongoing observations intently listening to all of our lessons. Soon, I began to notice him squirming a bit and had an Aha moment thinking that perhaps he needed to use the bathroom. Quickly reviewing our expectations for writer’s workshop I asked my classroom tutor to pass out the new writing binders to each of the other students. I walked over to where Freddy was seated and grabbed the Boys bathroom pass from the hook and pointing to the picture of the boy, I placed it around his neck and beckoned him to follow me. His curiosity seemed to get the better of him as he followed closely behind me to the bathroom around the corner. First checking to make sure it was unoccupied I urged Freddy to follow me inside. Upon seeing the urinals Freddy’s eyes communicated instant relief so I left him inside to take care of his need and waited closely outside the door. After a few minutes I went back inside and gesturing around the room very clearly said “Bathroom” which he seemed to be silently repeating to himself. I figured this was a vital and necessary addition to his vocabulary and was glad I had used my teacher instinct in reading his actions and then following it up before there might have been an accident.
When we returned to the classroom the other children were busily engaged in their writing. I urged Freddy to follow me to my conferencing table and quickly sketched a picture which I then labeled with the easy words---boy, dog, etc. Freddy intently watched my process and appearing to be very interested I handed him a paper saying “Your turn”. Freddy immediately set to work and I discovered yet another side of Freddy. He loved to draw and was really quite adept at it.
When the recess bell rang I asked a few of the children to walk Freddy over to the playground area. I tailed closely behind making sure he was following along with them and was relieved to see how happy he appeared to be when included with this small group. The other students were wonderful little teachers modeling how to line up and come back to our room when the bell rang. As they filed back into our room and went to their desks Freddy watched and then surprised us all by going to his desk too! Progress!
Later at read aloud time immediately following lunch recess Freddy joined us in the Book Nook but after a few minutes he was out cold. Using the seat of a chair as a pillow he had fallen into a deep and heavy sleep. Continuing the reading of our story we all let Freddy sleep and I shared with the children the knowledge that when English Language Learners are overloaded with learning , they will check out just like Freddy had done with taking his nap. Gesturing shhh with my finger to my lips I also took a quick snapshot of Freddy thinking I would sometime in the future share it with Freddy.
It amazed me how understanding the children were in the next few days quickly adjusting to Freddy’s behaviors and trying to help him in any way they could come up with. At first Freddy seemed to thrive on all their attention, but then I gradually began to notice Freddy showing subtle signs of independence. Good for you Freddy I silently said to myself.
As a strong believer in the power of Bibliotherapy, I searched for books that dealt with similar situations in an attempt to extend and expand the students understanding and empathy of Freddy’s dilemmas and for suggestions of what we could all do to help him. Among the best books I found to share were Marianthe’s Story, Painted Words,Spoken Memories by Aliki, Angel Child, Dragon Child by Michele Maria Surat, and Yoko Writes Her Name by Rosemary Wells. Using these books as springboards for discussion we continued to dialogue trying to do some higher level problem solving and I enlisted each of them as my co-teachers in helping Freddy learn. Wanting them to take ownership of the situation by using group problem solving I led them to join me in working on a mutual goal of getting Freddy to finally give us a smile.
Though Freddy now regularly joined the class with all of our activities and visibly loved coming back for his guided reading lesson each day he still did not to smile. While his progress at first seemed slow, the momentum continued to accelerate exponentially as he gained rapidly increasing self confidence. He always gave at least 300% of himself to his learning all he could, and even began visibly paying more and more attention to our read aloud stories in the Book Nook as he demonstrated his growing vocabulary . But still Freddy did not smile!
One day after sharing a humorous story about a boy who was always falling asleep I decided it was time to share the snapshot I had taken of Freddy on his first day. I walked around the group sharing the photo-- finally stopping to show it to Freddy. The students sat quietly waiting and watching for his reaction, silently willing him to smile. And---- he did! I thought I heard a symphony playing in the classroom background as if a movie were being filmed. Freddy’s smile lit up the room and instantly contagiously spread with everyone in the room smiling back at him. I felt my eyes begin to well up with tears of joy and yes I even cried. It was a red letter day in my book of teaching and I could not hold back my tears of joy!
From that day forward Freddy rewarded our hard work by continuing to share his brilliant and loveable smile, but there was never another one as sweet and touching as was his first. That was until …. he played the part as a rooster in our class play, But that is a story for another day.
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