I was a fifth-grader yesterday for the first time in 27 years or so. I've decided to volunteer as a tutor at a local elementary school for an hour a week as another way of getting out and about in the community. There are quite a few folks from my church who are also doing this and we'll mainly be working with students from immigrant families, most of whom are from Mexico.
I showed up for class yesterday and it was memorable for so many reasons, but I probably shouldn't get into all the details here. But it was surreal to be transported back to that age. Fifth grade was actually a pretty great year for me in the little town of Eldora, Iowa. I had some great friends, had my first real "girlfriend," and just enjoyed the heck out of life. I'm veering into "things-were-better-in-my-day" territory, but things are defintely different. Instead of rows, students sit in clusters of 4 desks that face each other, which seems to me to be like guiding Cookie Monster into an Oreo factory. Also, everybody has a water bottle and it's a little more relaxed as far as students getting up and walking around (there was also a substitute there, which may have had something to do with it. Subs are in a no-win situation).
I also attracted some attention because I was new and different and 10- and 11-year-olds like new and different. When the students first walked in, it was like I was a display model at a department store. The students would come up, look at me in interesting ways, ask me questions (who are you? obviously the most often asked), and I think at least one touched my arm to verify that I was real. It's going to be an interesting experience, I think, but one thing was pretty clear when I left. I'm not cut out to be a teacher at that level and I am so thankful that there are those who have those gifts.
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