From one thing to another

Some friends of ours, an old extra-curricular teacher of mine and her husband, just had their first baby, yesterday! It's a girl! How wonderful!

So there's another birthday in June for our family and friends. My grandmother's birthday was on Tuesday and Mum's is tomorrow. If it's anything, my half-birthday is Monday. And what's funny is, all year I've been volunteering in a 2nd-grade public school classroom; and the teacher there has her birthday on Monday, too! Of course, I didn't ask how old she was turning. I, by the way, will be 15 1/2 if you're curious. I won't tell you how old either my mother or grandmother are.

Ah, speaking of my volunteering...I've been doing this all year, since September, and yesterday was my last day. It's always been the same class, too. It's been a very rewarding experience for me--I hope the kids got something out of it, too, though I sincerely doubt it. My mother wanted me to do this so that I could make sure that I really wanted to be a teacher and not something else. Being homeschooled does have its advantages...this is sometimes hard to explain to the various skeptics I have encountered. Actually, I love it--homeschooling and volunteering, I mean.

I've had some interesting experiences throughout the year--from being assigned to do phonics sheets with a little girl who can barely read (and I had no previous experience doing any sort of tutoring!) to standing around for fifteen minutes on a wild-run playground, stunned; I was attempting to do recess duty. But it's been a lot of fun. I worked under the regular teacher and three different subs. One was a slightly bewildered man who had to deal with a massive whale-puppet craft that involved a lot of grown-up helping (substitute and teenage volunteer running from table to table helping kids cut, gluing, assigning paper fasteners...whew!); one was a kind of tired-looking woman who got into a long discussion about college with me when she found out I was a high school student; and one was an older lady who blithely told me to "just do what you always do" and left me thinking, okay, except for working with little A. I've never had a strict schedule...better just wing it. The regular teacher is a young lady who is in her first full year at this school; she's good at it. She and I figured out each other's signals pretty quickly, I think--she was easy to read and she seemed to read me well. She's the one with the birthday. I'm going to miss her.

I'm going to miss the kids, too. They're so cute. There was one little boy who was incredibly bratty, but he was so sweet about it; there wasn't a grain of malevolence in him. He was assigned to do reading with me, and he grabbed his "book-box" and said: "Ms. Vi, can I toss these books around the room?" I said: "No. That's not a good idea." Another little girl was very smart and quick; she liked to help the teacher and the poor bewildered volunteer. "What do you want to be when you grow up?" she asked me. "Oh, I'm planning to be a teacher," I said. "So that's why you're here," she answered, chin in the air. Those are only two; several of the kids have great stories attached to them.

Of course, there are drawbacks. Like sitting there and listening patiently to the kid struggle through a book on snakes which is written at a low reading-level and basically consists of: "Some snakes have stripes. Some snakes have spots. Some snakes have baby snakes." I was thinking, this is incredibly boring, this is the downside of teaching; and then I saw the book's author. Or authors, I should say. That book, which wasn't much longer than what I just recounted, was written by a committee of six! What on earth were they doing, each writing one page?! Good grief!

And then there are joys. I have sat with a kid and helped her on her column addition, and I think that she actually understood a little bit better when I was through. I also got to give the spelling test once, and it seemed to work out okay. It was both a joy and a sorrow that when the teacher said it was time to say goodbye to me, that a lot of the kids wanted to give me hugs. It was a joy because it was nice to see that I hadn't made myself too repulsive; but it was a sorrow because this meant goodbye.

And now, summer! These kids don't get out for a week and a half. I got out yesterday, because my mother starts a grade in January, and works me on nonstop except for weekends for 22 weeks, at which point I get to take a break until after summer, when I finish the grade up. So what will the summer bring? Memories, I suppose. I'm going to a drama class the week after next; in August I might teach V.B.S. at church. And I'll fiddle, too. Charlie's thinking of doing a jam later this month; and a couple who lives in a different neighborhood has a monthly jam--it was cancelled this month, but for now July is ago. A week and a half ago, I fiddled outside to the sunset, playing both Irish tunes and old-timey stuff, too.

Whew! There's a post for you. Babies, birthdays, school, and summer. Still with me?