My Cup Runneth Over

"We cannot tell the precise moment when friendship formed. As in filling a vessel drop by drop, there is at last a drop which makes it run over; so in a series of kindness there is at last one which makes the heart run over. "

Dr. Samuel Johnson (1709-1784)

In Room 108, I have been quietly and reflectively looking out for and observing the acts of kindness in our room grow and grow. As I drove home the other night, I thought to myself about which qualities I love most about humanity. It almost always comes back to kindness for me. As our second graders forge new friendships, strengthen old ones, and grow into unique individuals, one of my many hopes is that they value and embody kindness. It's a tall order, but in our short time together, a few glimmering acts of kindness have shown themselves. I know there are far more to come.

Catching Kindness

One day, our literacy tutor, Mrs. Fraser, came up to me during reading and said "I've got to tell you something" with excited urgency. She had approached two students during our independent reading time to quiet them, since she heard murmurs, but had stopped herself, because she realized that in this pair of students, one was compassionately helping the other to read with understanding (one is a strong reader and the other is a reader who is working hard to grow stronger). At the end of this lovely moment, the student who had asked for a little help said to the other "will you play with me at recess today?" The other, though usually engulfed in a running game that the former student is not a part of, approached the peer group who plays the running game and said "is it okay if (student) joins our team at recess today?" My heart melted. This was totally unprompted by us onlooking, spectating adults, I might add. In this second grade world of kids who speak the language of friends, peers, and recess games, both students--the student who was helping the other to read smoother and the student who was being supported--took considerable social risks. It was a moment of pure kindness, the kind that makes your heart swell, your voice shake, and your eyes water. It was a tiny occurrence in the scope of our day or our year, but one that I tucked away to remember, and one that captures-in our second grade way-the eloquence of the quotation I shared above.

Birthday Butterflies

In 2B, we celebrate birthdays in a way that I think is new to our students. I know cupcakes and sprinkles and frosting and cakes are fun, but it really is not so easy to have food into the classroom anymore, what with food allergy concerns, etc. So, we have a birthday ritual that involves singing a VERY fun, out-of-the-ordinary song, then we acknowledge the birthday on our Morning Message, and then we give each child a small token...a wish bag. Each student writes one wish for the birthday boy or girl and then deposits it into the student's wish bag. I staple the bag shut so that the element of surprise is kept alive and the student can look forward to reading the wishes after school. When we celebrated our first birthday, the wish bag didn't have as much mystique with the students as I thought it would. However, now that we are on our third birthday, I watch happily as the birthday student excitedly chatters about the wishes they'll receive and begs me to open the bag "nowwwww." In writing a personalized wish for each classmate, I'm noticing the other students really taking their time to write their wish, employing the best penmanship I've seen yet (I wish they'd write like that on everything!), and carefully slipping their wish into the bags with adorable smiles. When we sing our birthday song, I hear all voices resound loudly and clearly, with joy and with kindness in their eyes as they look happily at the birthday boy or girl. This is the kind of kindness that gives the receiver of it butterflies in their stomach. :)

Miss You Routine

On Friday, we said farewell to Domanic as he moves to a new school. We made a book for him of photos we have taken in our class up to this point. I wrote a letter to him from all of us, and we each signed it in a fancy felt tip pen. Students took this very seriously--keeping it a secret all week so that he would be happily surprised, and writing "miss you" all over his card. On his last day with us, we focused on him in our Morning Meeting (and Eli, because it was his birthday that day!). When we presented his book, all students smiled gently and looked at him intently. I was taken back by the quiet poignancy our second graders were capable of achieving. The book was called "Domanic's Miss You Book" because we have a little "Miss You" routine or tradition that the students really enjoy.

Any time a classmate is absent, during Morning Meeting, I ask the students "who are we missing from our class today?" Students pick up who we are missing like rapid fire. In fact, they know who is missing before Morning Meeting starts, because they know we will give them a "Miss you" during our meeting. They know what to do next, and they love it. I see 15 pairs of arms lift up to their own shoulders, cross their body, and rock back and forth (like they are holding something close to their heart) and say "Miss you, (name)." Our second graders LOVE this routine. I can't be sure, but I have a sneaky feeling that most of the reason they love it so much is that when the day comes that they are absent, while they are sick in bed or at an appointment, they can envision us in our Morning Meeting, giving them a "Miss you." And they'll smile to themselves, knowing that we really do miss them.