I can go anywhere...

Just take a look, it's in a book, a reading rainbow! (reading rainbow...)

No, I am not about to write about my extreme love for PBS and its children's programming. Rather, I was just having some thoughts about my latest experiences at PS 3, where I'm an America Reads tutor.

Really, I think tutor is the wrong word to describe my position in Jackie S's 2nd/3rd grade class. A better description of my job would possibly be chaos-manager. There are many words that can be used to describe my class, but chaotic grabs the essence. My cooperating teacher, Jackie S, is a lovable, free-spirited woman who, I think, has everyone's best at heart. However, she has also been teaching for I don't know how many years and is retiring this year. Many times, her attitude towards teaching her children screams "I don't give a crap at this point" because really, all I think she wants is to pack some of her belongings in a suitcase and fly to California to spend the rest of her years child-free.

To say that Jackie is at fault for the hullabaloo that ensues in Room 301 everyday would be unfair. Jackie's class is truly unlike any other class that will ever be. An equal mix of wide-eyed, vulnerable 2nd graders and larger-than-life, loquacious 3rd graders, every child in Jackie's class is unique and contributes his/her personality to the classroom, whether it be insane questions or comments produced by Abby (ex: "sometimes I wish I could fart on my dad's head" yes, I know) to the quiet persona maintained by Burgut. To control them is no easy feat - it would not be difficult for them to reduce a first-year teacher to tears. At the same time, just as I mentioned with Jackie, I don't feel that any of the children in Jackie's class are mean-spirited. They're just a class with....character.

Last Friday, while Jackie was out for the day, I had the most wonderful opportunity to take the class on my own. By 11 am, their lunchtime, I was ready to leave and take a bubblebath or something, but I resorted to walking around Greenwich Village, which I've realized can really provide some peace of mind with its quiet streets filled with brownstones and one-of-a-kind patisseries and cafes. That afternoon, back in Room 301 I decided a nice activity for the children and me (for my well-being, for my sanity) would be a read-aloud. Part of me was nervous, afraid that even a read-aloud would not seduce Jackie's class to settle down and be quiet. But I went for it, hoping upon all hopes that the kids would find the story, The Minpins, by Roald Dahl, sort-of-interesting.

I got off to a rough start. Motormouth Sophia (I know that sounds mean, but this girl is literally a MOTORMOUTH - she is unable to stop herself) complained out loud, "Can't we just draw or something? That's what Jackie let's us do." I responded by saying that I, for one, was excited to try another Roald Dahl book (they had previously read The Magic Finger) and that I knew a lot of the kids also were (I actually did not know that).

And so I started to read. As my friends, people who have met me or listened to my voicemail message know, I like to do voices. I put my full abilities into use as I read to Jackie's class. I read the story like I would want somebody to read the story to me, and as I glanced around at the 26 children seated on the rug before me, I saw so many pairs of eyes staring in wonder and curiosity. My heart smiled. I had them. Of course, I think one or two kids had fallen asleep, so I wasn't a miracle-worker, but, but...the classroom was quiet! When I asked the class what they thought "tantalize" in the story might mean, hands shot up in the air! Fingers wiggled, and when I called on Lokae, who explained that Little Billy would tempt or tantalize the Gruncher, the class payed attention!

I couldn't finish the The Minpins that Friday afternoon, (to a lot of groans, I'm proud to say) but I promised to finish it later. I left that afternoon, exhausted, but feeling good, knowing that as crazy as kids might get, they're always up for a story.