The Day They said I'm Sorry
It was a Friday afternoon, and my P3 (3rd grade) class was restless. Actually they were more than restless. Downright unruly is more like it. My normally beautifully behaved, obedient, attentive 9-12 year olds were acting much more like my usually challenging 6-7 year olds. I did my best to try to teach for even that short 30 minute period, but left feeling like that day was total bust. The weekend sped past with an abundance of work and play as usual, and Monday morning found me having forgotten all the woes of Friday’s difficulties. Walking into my P3 classroom, I set my things down, and listened as my children chanted their ritual greeting: You are welcome, Teecha Melanie. Dis is P3 class. Ouwa school motto is Christ’s ambassadahs tomoooorow. Smiling, I sat down at my desk and briefly collected my thoughts for the lesson. Before I could speak a word, I saw one of my girls approaching my desk. I thought she would just asked to go to the bathroom, but I was surprised to hear an apo