I'm not sure that i've mentioned Shannon. He is a kid in my class. He comes from a multi-cultural family. He speaks three languages. He can't not be smart. And he isn't not smart. In fact, his mind works in incredible ways... He's not a mean or manipulative kid. He has lots of questions and he wants the answers.
There is no grey area for Shannon. Everything is either black or white. I was warned, to be fair, that he was challenging. His kindergarten teacher described him as a little old man. She hit the nail on the head. This six year old walks around looking like he's carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. When you ask him to smile, he produces the look of someone enduring a Middle Ages torture device.
He got in trouble once at home for doing something his mother told him previously not to do. When she asked him why he would do what she told him not to, Shannon replied, "My head said no, but my heart said yes."
My first experience with this kid was our school's summer program. The little guy was wandering innocently around the first floor school when "something landed on my head."
"What was it Shannon?" I asked.
The other teachers were in stitches, they'd already heard what happened.
"Well," he paused, "I thought it was a hat. So I put my hand on my head. But it was not a hat."
I can't even begin to guess where this is going, "Ok, so what was it?"
"It was someone's underpants. They pooped in them."
No one can contain themselves. I am bewildered. I notice Shannon's head is... moist? No, he hadn't washed his hair. I sent him to the bathroom immediately. One of the other teachers informed me that poopy underpants were in fact dropped on his head, from the second floor, by another student. That kid is a menace. Shannon was the innocent bystander. Of course.
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Shannon is a 'slow and steady wins the race' kinda guy. I wish I could say it's because he's so meticulous about his work and he wants it to be perfect, but that would be furthest from the truth. It is always a mess. One day, somehow, he managed to finish before everyone else and it wasn't bad enough for him to have to start over, "neatly this time, please."
Hand raised, standing directly in front of me, so that his hand is literally in my face, "I'm finished, teacher."
"Great, Shannon. Have a seat, and wait one minute for everyone else, please."
"Teacher, one minute is 60 seconds?"
"That's correct, buddy. Good job." I say as I continue to wander around the class monitoring everyone's progress.
Out loud I hear, "One, two, three, four..."
"Shannon. Please. In your head."
So he begins, mouthing the words, "One, two, three, four..."
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Today was enough to inspire me to write about him. I'll continue to do so as time goes on. As my housemate said, "You have a story about that kid every day." It's true.
I explained to the class that the sentence they wrote yesterday in their 'Rough Draft' notebook needed to be copied neatly, with the corrections made, into their 'Neat' notebook. Off they go. Except Shannon. He has a question.
"I don't understand what we are supposed to do, teacher."
So I begin explaining again, but to him, one on one, reading his sentence aloud and showing him by pointing where his sentence should go in his neat notebook. He seems to understand, so I move on to assist the other 23 kids in my class. Not much time passes when I feel a presence. I am being followed.
"Teacher, i'm finished." says Shannon.
I take a look at his work. He has smooshed his entire sentence into a one inch space on about five lines:
I learned
that good
manners are
important.
As I begin erasing his work, I need to know, "Shannon, can I ask why you wrote your sentence this way? We write our sentences from left to right until there is no more space and then we move down to the next line."
"I thought it looks better."
Fair enough. How can I argue with that? The point remains that it is incorrect and I know if I let him do it this once, he'll do it like this always. So he begins again, kind of, only his sentence is full of errors. Thus another explanation is required and another. And another. By the fifth explanation i'm tired and busy, so I try to make it quick, "So, just write your sentence, 'I learned blah blah blah blah,' here, ok?"
"But, teacher, how do I write blah blah blah?"
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Tune in next time for Shannon's Shenanigans. I'll be sharing his swim meet and Sports Day stories.
