Chapter Sixty-Nine: Adventures With 3rd Graders (~jinghan)

I realise I haven’t actually told you about my internship placement. As part of one of my subjects, call Learning in Maths and Science, I was given a internship placement with a 3rd grade classroom which I attend for two hours a week.

My teacher was a really brilliant person. It takes an incredible amount of wit and patience to deal with a classroom buzzing with eight year olds in a way that is productive, fun and controlled. On my first day, I remember just constantly noticing how much movement was always going on in the classroom since every child was always fiddling with something in some way. Despite all this, the teacher was able to pick out behaviours that were important to change, ignore general eight-year-old restlessness, as well as balance all of this out with plenty of praising of good behaviour. The most I was able to accomplish in the first few weeks was to ask a child whether they thought 5 plus 7 was really 11 in a not very subtle tone of voice. I think I got a little better towards the end, but I always enjoyed watching the teacher work with the students.

Earlier in the term I was lucky enough to be offered a chance to go on a field trip (known as “excursion” in the Australian language) to Cache Creek Nature Preserve (pronounced “Cash” Creek). I think I was just as excited as the students we fished for bugs in the creek, looked at taxidermy animals, scavenger hunted (and examined animal poop), gathered leaves and wove rope. I was surprised that even though I found some tasks less exciting, there was always at least some students who enjoyed each activity.

One thing I remember the most from the trip was one when one of the boys got distracted by a sand-pit digger toy. This boy is usually less focused during class, often fidgeting or playing with something in his hands or bouncing about on his chair while the teacher demonstrates during lessons. But in the sand-pit he examined the leavers used to move the toy with sincerity and interest in his expression, and spent a good five minutes working out how to co-ordinate the scoop at the end of the leavers. I should have been coaxing him to return with the rest of the group to complete the activity, but I was mesmerised by how methodologically he taught himself out to dig up the sand.

“Hey, let’s get back with the rest of the group.” (I didn’t want the adults to worry about his where abouts.)

He looks at me hesitantly.

“C’mon I’ll race you there! Ready. Set. Go!”

Later on he begs me to let him go back to the toy, but I’m not supposed to take any of the children away from adult supervision in case something happens so I tell him that I can’t. Later he comes back to me and asks: “If it wasn’t against the rules would you have let me go back to the sand pit?”

I think about it. And nod. In fact, I still kind of regret not having said yes in the first place.

None the less, it was a fun day for everyone whether eight-years-old or not.