Last week, I wrote about the gift I have been given…the gift of going to school to not only teach children but to be in their company.
Our school is currently operating in a hybrid model. Students were divided based on last names – A-K getting designated Cohort A and L-Z, Cohort B. As a result, we have two arrivals and two dismissals. In the middle of each day, I head up stairs to do my dismissal duty. Emily, the classroom teacher and I usually chat a bit and then she heads out and I monitor the dismissal of her morning crew. When the last child is heading home, I head down, have my lunch and before I know it, I’m back upstairs ready to welcome the afternoon crew.
Right now, our afternoon crew is a bit light. I find myself hanging in the hallway outside Emily’s room awaiting her 5th graders. This is where I was last week, when I heard “Hi Mrs. Sherriff!” I looked up to see Connor walking into his classroom down the hall. No sooner did he disappear than did he reappear. “Hey, Mrs. Sherriff. Can I tell you something?” his grin and tone led me to believe this was going to be good. “I finished my reading log! I read the book last night and it’s signed!” “Way to go Connor! Looks like you get a lap around the track today!” He smiled proudly with a chuckle and a nod of his head.
Reading isn’t easy for Connor. He’s one articulate, engaging boy. He’s smart. He can talk about a book and infer with brilliance and ease. He has learned so many rules for how words work. He can articulate the rules, use the rules when writing and reading words in isolation. But, when it comes to putting all the parts together to read a book, it’s work. A lot of work. Yet, his attitude is remarkable. He always takes on the the work, the book, all because he’s a meaning maker, he’s in it for the thinking and the understanding.
So last Thursday, Connor and I found ourselves on the track. He was running and I was watching a boy run in celebration of his own work.
Thanks for the gift, Connor.