Anger Issues

 

I have a student who is a very good musician. 

He is super sweet when he’s in a good mood,

But he has major anger issues when he’s not. 

He’s been doing well in my class this year,

Sitting at my desk and drawing to keep himself focused and calm,

But last week, he wandered away from my desk and started bothering some classmates.

When I told him to come back over to my desk—

Not because he was in trouble but because he does better at my desk—

He got mad.

He started mumbling.

“Man, I hate school.

I’d rather be doing ANYTHING but school.

I hate school.

I hate everything about it.

I’d give anything to not be here—

I’d go anywhere else.”

And he kept on going.

Then a classmate joined in,

“It’s okay.

This torture will be over soon

And then we can go to lunch.”

“I hate lunch.

Lunch isn’t even fun anymore.”

And they just commiserated with one another

About how horrible everything was.

All the while,

I was listening and trying not to take it personally.

Especially the part about
“This torture will be over soon.”

 

There’s a lot I could say about this situation,

But I think what strikes me most is

The little sting that stung when I heard my class called torture.

I know, these two children have no idea what true torture is.

But in their 4^th grade brains,

Sitting through music class while learning a Preamble Rap

Was torture.

What a dramatically strong word for something so minor as

Being redirected and then not liking a song!

And what a powerfully stupid word to hurt me.

 

But it did.

A little.

Because words are so very powerful--

Even words from children who have no idea what they’re saying.

 

So may we choose our words wisely,

What we say and what we write,

And may we model healthy emotional expression to the children

Who are hurting,

And my goodness are they hurting.  

 

Amen.

Little Pumpkin

 

Each year during fall,

I buy little pumpkins and gourds for my classroom.

They serve not only as decorations but also as

Visual examples for lessons with Kindergarten and 1^st grade.

 

Last week, I unpacked my pumpkins during my exceptional children’s (EC) class.

One of the students immediately became fascinated by the pumpkins

And started playing with them.

He even drew faces on them.

I later found out that he was mimicking a shape activity that they had done

On the smartboard in their classroom!

 

As the class left, I gave one of the pumpkins to the EC teacher.

Two days later, she wanted to use the pumpkin in a teaching activity

But the pumpkin was gone.

When she asked the fascinated student where the pumpkin was,

He said, “Home.”

She said, “L! That pumpkin wasn’t yours!”

He said, “Ms. Deaton. Musica.”

She said, “Ms. Deaton gave it to me!”

 

As the teacher was telling me this story, laughing,

I got choked up.

“He knows my name?” is all I could think and say.

He’s autistic.

He doesn’t talk much.

When he does, it’s usually gibberish Spanish because he’s either happy or mad.

He comes to music with his EC class and with his mainstreamed class,

But he doesn’t usually directly participate in the lesson, and

He’s never said my name.

Not to me.

But he said it to his teacher.

“Ms. Deaton. Musica.”

And it made me cry!

 

I make it a point to say my student’s names every time they come to class.

I try to say their names when I see them in the mornings, in the afternoons, and in the hallways.

I know that names are important.

But I didn’t know that MY name was so important until

I heard that teacher say it as L said it.

“Ms. Deaton. Musica.”

 

I AM

Ms. Deaton,

Musica.

And inasmuch as the title sometimes drives me crazy,

It is a privilege

To be a pumpkin bearer

And a joy sharer

To the least of these,

Our children.

 

Amen.

A Prayer for Western NC

 

Oh God,

Western North Carolina is broken.

The layers of trauma and hurt are as complex and deep

As the mud and waters that lay stagnant

In homes and communities shattered

By the power of Nature’s force.

 

For all who have lost physical possessions and are trying to put the pieces back together,

Lord, have mercy.

 

For all who have lost loved ones to certain death,

Lord, have mercy.

 

For all living in the uncertainty of a loved one’s whereabouts,

Lord, have mercy.

 

For all who are stranded with no power, food, or water,

Lord, have mercy.

 

For linemen, rescue workers, and all who are on the ground to provide disaster relief,

Lord, have mercy.

 

For all who will try to take advantage of those whose lives have already been devastated,

Lord, have mercy.

 

For all who feel helpless but can only offer prayers and financial support,

Lord, have mercy.

 

The aftermath of Helene is going to linger long and hard.

Help us as we recover and rebuild.

Help us to be community in action and

To be the answer to our own prayers.

Help us to go and do,

To be hands and feet and ears and hearts.

Always.

 

Amen.