Letters to an Absent Miss Djerf

One question I’ve constantly fielded this winter is “Are you missing teaching?” There are two answers:

 No, I’m not missing the stress of teaching. Right now, the idea of managing the noise and activity of first and second graders all day is synonymous with thoughts of torture.

But yes, I’m missing the students. Terribly!

I missed them even more when I received letters from the class near Christmas. Their unfettered affection, creative spelling, and imaginative drawings (one featured me snowboarding down a steep mountain with the caption "your wining Miss Djerf", while another depicted me with some serious eyelash augmentation) triggered all kinds of warm-fuzzy emotions. 

Here are a few of these precious missives, nothing added except for titles (which double as summaries of my experiences with those particular children):

The Compassionate One

Dear Miss Djerf

I am having a good time at sckool. it was nicer when you wher hery. today wee are having hot choclit. The sckool has chached sinc your gon. But I feel bad that you hert.

The Enthusiastic One

Dear miss Djerf,

I was excited when I hrd this nys!

I hrd this

I hrd i wus cuming in youer klasrum.

I jumpd up!

I wos so hape!

I love your voys

it sos god.

you or nis

The Distracted One

Dear Miss Djerf

I hop you feel betr so you can come to shcool but after the shcool yer you are going to go to shcool so you will feel betr so you can go to shcool nest yer

I hop you cood feel betr I like you a lot

The Precise One

Dear Miss Djerf,

I really am looking forward to seeing you next year. Why not come on February third that is my dad’s half birthday.

Merry Christmas.

Boy, do I miss them.

At Least the Teacher Can Do It

It was a lively morning in the classroom, preparing to leave for a field trip to a park. Jeffrey's grandma, who works nearby, stopped by in the midst of the chaos. "Have a good day, everyone," she called from the doorway. After a pause in which she surveyed the excitement, she added, "And, um, help Ms. Djerf have a good day, too!"

"She will!" Jeffrey cheerfully replied.  "She always does!"

Grandma tried another tactic, every bit as subtle as the first. "You know what I mean," she chided, "like, behave nicely and pay attention."

"Oh, she ALWAYS pays attention!" Jeffrey reassured her. "I mean, she's not a kid. She's a grown up! It's EASY for her to pay attention!"

Extemporaneous Information: Animal Reports, Part II

We finished our animal reports weeks ago, but I just finally re-found my scribbled page of notes. While the students presented, I was sitting in the back of the classroom, frantically recording on two different sheets. The top sheet was always the evaluation; the bottom, the things too funny or interesting to risk forgetting. Ended up with a full page in the second category.

One more quotable from the panda girl:
"Pandas have 84-240 germs when they are born." Germs, grams. How different could they be?

We have great community in our class, even if we're misinformed:
"Penguins mate for life..." Blair stopped in the middle of reading her display board.  She looked up at the class and calmly asserted, "but that's not true."

"How do you know?" I responded.

"We looked it up."

My skepticism must have showed on my face, because Jeffery rushed to her defense. "It's true, Ms. Djerf! I saw it in a commercial!"

A few beavers have it figured out:
Taylor told us all about beavers. The class -highly sensitive to anything remotely inappropriate- was particularly excited about question time during his presentation because they could say the word "dam" over and over again. What I liked the best, however, was the part on their habitat. It read "Some beavers live in the frozen north. Others live in northern Florida."

"Stump the Presenter" is a game we play without even trying:
"How many eggs do lions have in one year?" Poor Emma. She'd learned a lot about lions, but she was a little thrown off by this question, and it took her a minute to respond that lions don't lay eggs. "I know, but how many?" the questioner replied. (We're not the world's greatest listeners.)

If you're threatened by someone else's superlative, simply respond with unrelated but competitive information:
Martha told us that cheetahs are the fastest land animal.

Jeffrey's immediate response: "Yeah, but they can't swim."

And yes, Ms. D. was paying attention while laughing. She even learned three new facts. And she's pretty sure they're legit:
A group of cheetahs is called a coalition. (Bet you didn't know that.)

A tiger's eyesight is six times better than a human's.

A lion's roar can be heard from five miles away. (How do they figure things like that out, anyhow?)

Hmm. I wonder how far away you can hear a class of first and second graders?

Life Span and Sex Identification of Giant Pandas: Animal Reports in First Grade

"Any questions for Melanie?" Hands flew up all over the classroom. Melanie stood proudly next to her giant panda display board, eager to deflect the curiosity of her classmates.

Question time is my favorite part of a student's report, when they go off script and I discover how much they really learned about their topic. Or how creative they are in a pinch.

"How long do pandas stay alive?" someone called out.

"Um, they stay alive until a snow leopard or a wild dog eats them," she replied confidently.

"So...they can live as long as they want to?"

"Yeah. Until they die."

She answered questions about panda babies, where you buy bamboo to put on a board about pandas, and where pandas live. Just when I thought we were done, however, she pulled out her own question: "Do you want to know how to tell if one is a boy or a girl?"

I was tempted to redirect, but I was just too curious about how she would explain it. I WAS ready to intervene at any moment, however. "Well, how you know if a panda is a boy or a girl -because they look just the same on the outside- is you watch them. See, only a boy will walk up to a girl. So, if there are two pandas together, the one that's walking up to the other one is the boy. That's how you tell!"

This didn't fully satisfy my curiosity -do girl pandas simply go through life without meeting?- but the class thought it made perfect sense, and we moved on without any major violations of our innocence. Phew.

Forward-Looking

Today, Jeffrey asked how old my roommate is. "She's a couple of years younger than me; I think she's twenty-eight." I replied.

He did some quick calculations: "OK...so when YOU'RE one hundred, SHE'LL be ninety-eight."

I hadn't ever thought of that, but his math was accurate.

"You two will be old ladies together!" he continued, and then gestured to the rest of the class. "And all of us, we'll be young -- like in our seventies."

There's nothing like a little perspective.

(Just add another seventy years to this picture.)

Presidents and Toy Story, First Grade Style

Many of my students were non-readers when our current president was elected, a fact that was irrelevant to me until an argument erupted and half the class passionately asserted that his name is Rocko Bama. ("It is! I KNOW! My dad told me!") We had a brief social studies/spelling lesson once everyone had calmed down and I had stopped laughing.

(I have to confess that while I don't have any trouble with saying Barack Obama's name, I'm stuck with a different political creative hearing problem: every time I hear someone on the radio talking about the crazy president of Libya, I hear Mallomar Gadaffi -- and subsequently picture a chocolatey-marshmallowy cookie man. Proof that I'm a first grader at heart, I guess.)

The fact that what I say is not always what they hear was reinforced today when I was introducing our science fair animal report projects. I listed the types of animals the students could choose from: "Mammals, or birds, or fish, or reptiles, or you could even do amphibians..."

To which Jeffrey immediately responded (in his best Buzz Lightyear impersonation), "To Amphibian! And Beyond!"

Um, I Don't Think So

During Friday morning prayer requests, I relayed that I was once again praying for my dad, who was going to have surgery.

We've prayed quite a bit for my dad this year, through his prostate cancer and surgery as well as for his Crohn's disease. This particular problem was a hernia, but my method of explanation was the same as it has been for the other things: "There's something wrong in his belly."

"Boy, he sure has had a lot of problems with his belly!" someone called out from the back. "Maybe he's pregnant!"

Doesn't Take Much

Wednesday morning, Grayson, our unofficial class leader, scanned the room with a discerning eye, and delivered this bomb of an observation:

"Hey Carl, your hair is sticking up in the back. You...sorta look like a werewolf."

Jeffrey immediately turned around, took a hard look at Carl, and breathlessly added, "Yeah...you DO kind of look like a werewolf!" (I think he was excited by the prospect of having one of our own in class.)

To which Carl dissolved in a puddle of tears, and I attempted (unsuccessfully) to right the situation by talking with them.

Turned out to be quite difficult to convince a second grader that he need not worry about his best friend's tactless remarks; this child takes things to heart (I had to mop his tears on Monday when someone called him the smallest person in the class. Never mind he's my TALLEST student; he cried buckets. We had a similar, fruitless conversation then, too.).

Was equally challenging to castigate the two offenders, as they saw their comments (and subsequent suggestions for taming the werewolf-like hair) as simple observation of fact. In their minds, they were simply providing a community service. And though I warned that such Good Samaritan-like behavior might someday invite a punch in the mouth, there was no relenting.

Such is life in our never-boring, delightful microcosm.

How to Recognize the End of the World: From the First and Second Grade Archives

This is, quite possibly, my all-time favorite second-grade story. Was retelling it to friends recently, and decided that it most certainly belongs on the blog, particularly since I almost named my blog after it. [Actually, I only told half of the story that night (sometimes it takes me a really long time to get to the point), and never quite made it to the punch line. So this is for you, JS! Now you know...]

Several years ago my only two second grade boys were best friends and polar opposites. James was philosophical and quirky, with his feet just barely on the ground, while happy-go-lucky Matt, concrete to the core, strongly influenced our classroom culture each day.

This contrast made for plenty of humorous moments throughout the year (another day, another blog post), but my favorite Matt and James moment was in relation to our class behavior incentive.

Matt was all about motivation -- a big fan of prizes in any form. Naturally, he was the number one fan of my class reward system, which consisted of two things: a drawing of superballs in a jar, and the promise of a party when the "jar" was full.

One of the easiest ways to earn a superball was for everyone to be at his or her desk working quietly when I returned from brief errands outside the room. Thus, that year, any time I walked out the door, I heard Matt directing, "OK, everyone! Sit down! Be quiet! Remember the superball!"

Lucky for him, all of first grade toed the line enthusiastically (they were all girls, and they were all in love with Matt).

James, on the other hand, wasn't as impressed by Matt OR the superball jar.

One Wednesday, I walked in just in time to hear James say condescendingly, "You know, Matt, if we didn't get a superball, it wouldn't be the end of the world..."

In all seriousness, Matt replied, "I KNOW it wouldn't be the end of the world, James. If ALIENS were coming, THAT would be the end of the world!"

Animal Alter Egos and Dating Advice for Strong Men: First and Second Grade Journals

In a move to broaden our writing horizons (from pet and video game stories), I've been assigning journal topics during daily writing. We're terrible spellers, but plenty thoughtful and creative.

"If I Were An Animal, I Would Be..."

...a lion I woud scare peopl so I scare peopl out of a restront and eta al of thaer food.

...a cheata. Because cheata's can run 60 miles (97 kiloneters) per hour. The reason I want to be a cheata is because I love cats and cheata are part of the cat faimly. But the thing I don't like about them is because cheata's are meat eators and I'm meat.

...a dog. because I like treats and. people petting me and. have sharp teeth and. have big ears like. my anuts dog.

...a Rabit i like to hope i love to Run and i like to hiDe. But i dont to be shot and be eating. But i do like carrets. But the only thing is that i like to swim and Rabits dont like to be cold and i dont like to be in a cage

...a Dinesor because they are bigger than any other animel. And no body can kill a Dinesor except Jesus. Except I wouldn't want to scare to many people away because then I wouldn't have any friends then. and they eat meet and I really like meet and they are strong and they have huge teeth. But one thing I don't about Dinesor is how they don't get cavities without brushing there teeth

...a dinasor because it is big and were the first animal made. they have big bones. and have blud. and likes meat and green stuff. and be a good dinasor and stomp.

...a baer because I like fish and I downt lik winter and I like sleping but If I wus a baer i wud skaer people but i like to eat to   but I wud want to brush my teeth after. But I wud want to be frinds wih people

A few of us are rather attached to our toothbrushes, I guess. This makes me laugh.

After a week of studying this fascinating Bible character (and collectively groaning over his dramatic ups and downs), I told the kids to write Sampson a letter as though he's still alive today. They could tell him what they liked, ask him questions, or give him advice. These were my faves:

Dear Sampson:

Please never marey a philisyn girl agan. Never let anyone ty you up agan. Never cut you'er Hair. Never drink wien. Never let anyone win a Batell agest you agan. allways trust in God. allways love God. Never kill you'er self agan.

Dear Sampson how did you kill a loin and how long was it untill you came back and the bee nest was thier? That was a good ridly you. did And how did you get such a good ida to bren the Fillasteans fields. Oh and I have some ed wiss don't let girls get in the way of you and God.

Dear Sampson I liked it when you killed one thousand Fillesteens with a Dead donky's jo bone. But I didn't like it when you were falling in love with fillesteen women. And I don't think you should have taken some honey from the lion you killed. You souldent have told your wife the awnswre to the ritel. p.s. try not to fall in love with more girl's okay

When We Grow Up

"It is easy to decide what to be when you grow up: agree or disagree."

Once we could successfully discern the difference between agreeing and disagreeing, we had a lively discussion in first and second grade today around this topic.  Students placed their names on one side or the other, and then gave reasons for their choice.

Most of the class agreed that there are SO MANY interesting jobs that you could have, that it's very difficult to decide. However, three were remarkably decisive:

"I used to think it was hard, but now I think it's easy. Because when I was two years old, I didn't know what I wanted to be, but then when I was three years old, I heard about planes and jets and that you could fly them in the Air Force, and then I knew that I'm going to be in the Air Force. So then it was easy."  -- This from an ancient eight year old.

"Well, I think it's easy because I have a brother who does all these things that I can't do yet because I'm not old enough, but I just watch him, and I like everything he does, and then I can see what I want to do when I'm older, like guns and soccer. And they happen on different nights, so I'm pretty sure that I'll be able to do all of them."  -- I wonder if that exemplary eighth grader knows how much influence he exerts over his second grade brother.  I'm tempted to tell him.

"I think that you just have to find something that you really like to do and you're good at it, and then you just think of jobs that are perfect for that. Like, I'm good at singing, so I'm going to be a rock star."  -- I have a feeling that this child gets her daily dose of the Disney Channel. 

This made me think of my all-time favorite story from my roommate's third-grade class. Another time, another post...

Catching On

"Miss Djerf, I know Mr. Popper is the main character in this story!!!" And then Jeffrey went on to explain why he knew this to be true.

 

That one comment (blurted in the middle of our read-aloud) was a bit of sunshine I'm poking away in my pocket, where I can stick my hand in from time to time and soak up the warmth.  Turns out Jeffrey, who appeared to be communing with distant galaxies during this week's reading lessons, knows what a character is AND how to find the "main-est" one!

 

It's not much, but it's a pretty happy something as far as I'm concerned.

Holy, Happy Words

"And then he said a bunch of holy, happy words!"

This was Grayson's summary of what Zechariah did "when he could finally talk again" (following the birth of John). We review the Christmas story every December in my class -so I know the story inside and out- but this little catchphrase snagged my mind. He was right; Zechariah's words bubble over with joy, yet they are immensely sacred.

This is the beginning of his prophecy:
"Blessed be the Lord God of Israel,
For He has visited us and accomplished redemption for His people,
And has raised up a horn of salvation for us
In the house of David His servant--" (vv. 68-69)

And here are his prophetic words over his newborn son:
"And you, child, will be called the prophet of the Most High;
For you will go on before the Lord to prepare His ways;
To give to His people the knowledge of salvation
By the forgiveness of their sins,
Because of the tender mercy of our God,
With which the Sunrise from on high will visit us,
To shine upon those who sit in darkness and the shadow of death,
To guide our feet into the way of peace." (vv.76-79)

A few thought-bursts of my own on these holy, happy words:

• I love how God works on the macro and the micro levels at the same time. He's bringing about salvation for the world, yet He knew the deepest heart-cries of Zechariah and Elizabeth for a child. I've seen it in my life on a smaller scale, the way that God brings things together which answer many different prayers in one situation.

• It seems to me that Zechariah's desire for a Messiah may perhaps have exceeded his desire for a son (this prophecy doesn't have a "me" in it -- Zechariah was rejoicing in the Big Picture and the fact that God was going to use his son in the middle of it!). While carrying an unsatisfied hope in his heart for all those years, he wasn't poisoned or overtaken by it.

• Often, holy, happy words such as these are preceded by disappointment, struggle, pain, and lots and lots and lots of waiting. God works waiting into a lot of things. Apparently, He doesn't see it in the same negative light I usually do.

• My favorite phrase is "with which the Sunrise from on high will visit us." I am awed by the sunrise as I drive toward it every morning. Every day, the world transforms as it turns toward the sun. Gradually, the light makes everything visible. Some days, it's dramatic. Other days, clouds make the exact moment imperceptible, but the light comes nonetheless.

Mmmm...

I so desire that the Sunrise from on high will illuminate a dark struggle I'm witnessing in a nearby marriage.

I'm asking Him to shine on a student's mother who's facing cancer.

I want the warming light of His tender mercy to comfort my dear friend who's facing her first Christmas without her husband or mother.

I am crying out to Him to shine the light of His mercy over past hurts, that they may see His hand both then and now. I'm begging Him to surround them with the light of His presence now, that they may rest fully in it. And I'm asking Him to fortify and energize them with hope in Him for tomorrow.

I'm praying that they may have the strength to continue trusting God while waiting for His sunrise, that they may someday (soon, I hope!) burst forth with some holy, happy words of their own.

"I waited patiently for the LORD;
And He inclined to me and heard my cry.
He brought me up out of the pit of destruction, out of the miry clay,
And He set my feet upon a rock making my footsteps firm.
He put a new song in my mouth, a song of praise to our God;
Many will see and fear
And will trust in the LORD." (Psalm 40:1-3)

Not That We Don't Love Cookies

Taylor was antsy all Thursday, knowing that his grandparents were coming to visit sometime that afternoon. At his request, Grandma was bringing cookies.

Unfortunately, the cookies and grandparents showed up just as we were beginning our independent writing time. I expected to cut writing short, but Taylor -at the beginning, my most reluctant writer- surprised me.

From his cozy workspace under a table, he looked up at Grandma and said, "Um, can you come back later? I'm busy writing right now."

I think I managed to control my facial expression, but I was doing internal fist pumps like crazy.

Things That Are Most in First and Second Grade

Funniest tattle:

"Ms. Djerf, Ashton called me a zebra!"

This was accompanied by tears and everything. And perhaps a few covert chuckles from Ms. D.

Most direct answer to "Write about what the ocean floor looks like:"

"I can tell you what.

It is not strate."

Thank you, I'll remember that.

Most descriptive prayer request:

"Um, I have a cough. And then, when I sniffle, boogers go down my throat, and then I have to hack them up."

She was ready to provide even more information on this topic, but we moved on.

Least helpful response to a classmate's prayer request about a grandma's illness:

"That could kill her! Is she still alive?!"

This reminded me of the time someone told a (probably not true) story about nearly being run over by a motorcycle. They all sat for a moment, wowed by the gravity of the situation, and then one first grader asked softly, "Did you survive?"

Most unusual tattle:

"Ms. Djerf, Ms. Djerf, someone keeps organizing my crayons!"

It was with great disappointment that I persuaded this young man that no benevolent desk-organizing fairy (or fellow classmate) was at work in our classroom. Because, oh, do I want to believe in that fairy. If only she would pay a visit to MY desk!

You Tell 'Em, Brother

I'm a fairly structured [read: bossy] teacher, so I tend to dictate many aspects of classroom life. However, I always love to see what's revealed about each student's personality when I remove parameters and allow them to choose. My favorite today was a free writing "story" that came from a sweet first grader:

My school doesn't put up with any nonsense. My family doesn't either.

That was it. I will hereafter think of him as a sweet, rather straight-laced first grader (who perhaps has a secret desire to get away with a little nonsense?)...

Toothbrushes and Opossums

It has NOT been boring in first and second grade lately.
***

Best attempt to get out of cursive practice:

"You know what, Miss Djerf? You're not respecting who I am. You're just trying to change me!"

I had to explain that no, actually, I AM supposed to change some things about my students, their handwriting being one of those things. But nice try...

Best prayer request of the week (from a second grader who'd had a tough start to her day):

"Um, can we pray that we don't have to pay to fix the plumbing at my house? Because I accidentally flushed my toothbrush down the toilet this morning."


The best question (in the middle of a lesson on the day of Pentecost):

"Miss Djerf, why were there opossums in the upper room?"

Until today, I never realized how closely related the words "apostle" and "opossum" are. I'm glad he asked, though. It really puts the story in a different light to be imagining opossums praising God in different tongues with flames of fire on their heads.

Great Kid Quotes You Can Use In Your Everyday Life

Stick a couple of these authentic first and second grade quotes in your back pocket, and you'll never be speechless again. (People may look at you with strange expressions on their faces when you talk, but that already happens, doesn't it?)

"You wouldn't live a DAY in MY body!"

- A second grader (who yelled this across the room at another student, for no evident reason - making it even more useful)

"I think I tore a limb."

- The same second grader, referring to a gym-class injury. He has a gift for the dramatic.

And now, a creative writing tutorial from another second grader. The next time you need embellishment, perhaps you can draw inspiration from this young man.

The assignment? Write at least six lines about the Hansel and Gretel opera we saw. Here is his first (one-line) attempt:

Hansel and Gretel sleeped at the forest and the angels saved them.

Grouchy dictator that I am, I demanded more details. At least five lines worth of details, to be exact. It's possible I even instructed him to be creative. He hemmed and hawed, and then an idea dawned on his face. I want to hang the finished product on my refrigerator:

Hansel and Gretel sleeped at the forest and the angels saved them from getting eaten and killed and curceds or torchered or cut or blood presher or heat attack or getting sick or captured or drowning and from the night.

So it might not follow the opera's story line exactly. But he met the six-line minimum, and you have to admit, it's pretty darn creative.

Two Epiphanies About My Height, Courtesy of First Graders

My brother Nick came to visit my class in October. He's something of a legend in first and second grade (apparently, the teacher talks him up), but when he comes in person, he even manages to exceed expectations, mostly by being BIG. Really big. Way bigger than Miss Djerf. (They are also impressed by his ability to beat Miss Djerf at everything, but that's a post for another time.)

He passed me up when he was eleven or so, so I've had plenty of time to deal with it. My students, however, were concerned by the inequality. Pablo eyed the two of us carefully, and then patted my shoulder comfortingly and said, "He's not THAT much taller than you, Miss Djerf. Just a little bit." (The picture is Pablo showing me how much more I need to grow to catch up.)

Grayson took it one step further. He started grilling Nick: "Nick, you exercised a lot, right?" Nick admitted that yes, lately he's exercised a lot (playing college basketball will do that to you). Grayson turned triumphantly to me and announced, "See, Miss Djerf? All you need to do is exercise, and you can be as tall as Nick!"

I'm not feeling terribly confident about that solution. The way I see it, if being born nine years earlier didn't help, exercising more isn't going to erase a thirteen-inch gap...

It turns out that Grayson is full of helpful observations. Just this week, his face lit up when he saw me standing next to the music teacher. He'd had a revelation: "Miss Djerf! Mrs. O is taller than you!"

I agreed, of course. Lots of people are taller than me. His next comment, however, was a first.

"So THAT'S why she's married and you're not!" She and I chuckled, but he wasn't finished yet. "So THAT'S why SHE'S a grown up and YOU'RE still a kid."

I might just end up in therapy after all.

Letters to Miss D.

Needing to fill a few minutes between lessons this afternoon, I asked my students to write me a letter when they finished their book work. Here's a general sampling:

Ms.D You are a WaNDrfull tech you are the Best techr in the Wlrd thank you For teching me Math Langig AnD BiBl.

But not spelling, apparently.

The distracted nature of the following letter is a blend of her butterfly-like personality and the rising action of the classroom at the time of writing:

To. Miss. Djerf.

I had a fun this Summer! I mist you that handwriting book is silly! I wish this was quieter. How was your Summer? I bett it was good. You should make a roull that people must be quiet exsept if you have a quwestden, coment or anser.

Rocken science lecen!

We should have rules? In a classroom? Are you kidding? But glad you liked the science lesson.

The following is probably my favorite:

Dear Miss D I really like your singing. And you read us great books. you write great. And you draw great

Yep, I'm forming a cult. The cult of the Miss Djerf followers. (Our motto: So we don't exactly listen to what she's saying, but we think she's great...) I think I'll pick this student to be the leader; he can spell.