A Vampire Attack

Perhaps I am alone in this, but nothing is more intimidating to me as a young teacher than supplying in a classroom that has a full-time ECE, Educational Assistant, or other adult employee in the classroom. Certainly there are benefits to having a helping hand in the classroom! They know the routines, the students' are comforted by a familiar face, and they act as a second mischief-detector in the classroom. Still, as a brand-spanking new teacher (with the face of a 13-year-old), I feel a wave of uncertainty crash over me whenever I read a note on the day plans such as, "Mrs. M will be in the classroom the first half of the day with you." My ridiculous internal dialogue goes something like:

Who is this Mrs. M? Is she nice? The kids will probably like her better than me. Is she going to think I look too young to teach? Will she think I'm incompetent if something goes wrong? Will she like my teaching style? Will she tell the real teacher if I have to do something different?

I am sure that most EA's and ECE's would be astounded if they realized how much unnecessary pressure I feel at their presence. Fortunately, my first day in a kindergarten classroom I was saved this trepidation by the fact that the ECE in my classroom was not only another supply, but a supply on her very first job. I must admit that I breathed a sigh of relief upon her confession that she also had little experience in kindergarten, but I later had to wonder whether my lack of fear in her presence was a fair trade for the chaotic day that quickly ensued.

Throughout my placements I had heard many teachers say, "It takes a special teacher to be able to teach kindergarten", and I was not long in that classroom before I discovered why. A kindergarten teacher has to embody a magical blend of fun, creativity, and order, and with two OT's who had never been in a kindergarten classroom before, our "order" was severely lacking. Approximately a third of the students on the attendance had asterisks beside their names with notes of behavioural issues we should watch out for. How are four eyes supposed to "watch out for" 8 students? I could tell that the ECE (who had gone to school for grades 4-10) felt out of her element and overwhelmed at the task before us. Although I didn't have much more experience, the cuteness factor of the kids had me thinking that Kindie-Land couldn't be too bad and instilled in me a false sense of confidence. I pulled out my Mrs. A voice (which is about an octave higher than my normal voice) and got down to kindergarten business.

Despite the 24 kindies informing us throughout the day, "That's not how Mrs. B does it!", our morning flew by without a hitch, and it wasn't until lunch that "the incident" occurred. Throughout the morning we had discovered that one boy needed to be kept a particularly close eye on, so neither of us had left his side during play-time or crafts. Once settled down with his apple slices for lunch, we mistakenly felt bold enough to abandon our post and stroll around the classroom monitoring the other students. Well, this boy must have spent the last two hours itching for the right opportunity, because within moments of turning our backs on him we heard a scream and whipped our heads around to see him pinning down another student while biting her stomach!

Within a half-second, the ECE had lifted him off the other student and set him on his seat, and I checked in with his victim to soothe her and discover with relief that there were no bite marks. As the ECE had a serious chat with our little vampire, I had a brain-wave to check his communications book and see if another incident like this had happened this year. Sure enough, there were multiple notes home to mom about her son biting, kicking and hitting other students, all saying that the other student's parents had been informed and her son had spent recess in the office. While discovering this helpful information for how to handle the situation, I had little time to notice that the ECE was having a minor panic attack at the back of the classroom. Never being one to know how to handle a crying adult, I tentatively approached her and asked if she was okay.

"I don't know", she said. "Was that okay that I picked him up?"

"Uh, yep. He was biting another student."

"Yes, I just removed him from the situation." What she was saying was logical but her frantic tone suggested that she needed more reassurance.

"You did the right thing. It's okay to prevent a student from hurting another one and you did it very gently," I assured her.

"Yes, I just removed him from the situation."

"Yep."

"I just picked him up and removed him from the situation."

"Mhmm."

"We should go talk to the principal, she'll understand that he needed to be removed from the situation."

"Okay."

In our discussion with the principal (who of course knew that this was an ordinary occurrence for our little vampire), I listened to the other supply insist that she "simply removed him from the situation" approximately 7 more times. I could tell that the principal was getting impatient with the ECE's need to repeatedly verbalize her innocence, and I stepped in to suggest that we write a note home to both students' parents and keep the perpetrator in for recess. With these steps agreed upon, we headed back to our classroom to take on the rest of the day.

Though the afternoon passed by smoothly, the ECE remained distracted by the lunch-time events. She continually went through the scenario with me, seeking my approval of her actions (which she certainly had) and worrying that the student's parents might be upset. I really think she was afraid she might get fired for preventing a student from gnawing on the stomach of another 4-year-old.  I never thought I would spend more time looking after a fellow adult in the classroom than looking after my students! At the end of the day, I talked her down from the 5-page essay she wanted to leave the regular classroom teacher and left a simple summary which, of course, included the phrase, "She removed him from the situation."

-Mrs. A