I was singing happily along with my second graders when I noticed Cameron's pitiful face. Not usually one to pout, I smiled and asked, "What happened to your face?! It's so pouty!" assuming it would be something trivial and he would notice the playfulness in my voice. Instead, he looked at me very seriously and said with a cracking voice, "They keep talking about me!" He pointed to three girls who at once turned to me with what i like to call "uh-oh" eyes. You know the ones - wide with fear, sad and innocent all at once. I asked the Little Darlings if this was true. The blondest of the three (literally andfiguratively) looked me right in the eyes and loudly announced, "Well, he's growing a mustache!!!" I gasped in horror as I usually do when pretending to be shocked by a child's behavior. Typically, it elicits immediate remorse and an apology, but not from The Blondest. She cluelessly continued, "Well, he is! Look at it!" I turned to see Cameron burying his face in his hands, clearly wanting to crawl into a hole somewhere until he reached manhood and had a legitimate reason for this so-called mustache, this monstrosity on his young face. I immediately regretted my initial what's wrong with your face?!question because according to The Little Darlings, there was a lot wrong with his face. I told Cameron he could excuse himself to the restroom to take a break if he wanted. Understandably, he did. I used this time alone (with the remaining 12 students) to explain that making fun of people for any reason is awful, but making fun of people for their appearance is an especially heinous offense. I asked The Blondest to apologize to Cameron upon his return. She did and I thought all was well... until I caught her whispering to the other two Little Darlings again, Cameron glaring at them from across the circle. This time, I pulled her aside and gave her a pencil and paper with the instructions to write an apology letter. "I don't know how," she said. She wasn't kidding. So I started with the obvious. "Dear Cameron..." and explained that she needed to apologize for making fun of him, followed by commenting on at least three things she liked about him. I left her to work and 10 minutes later she returned with the finished product. It read (paraphrased for spelling, grammar, and emphasis) :
Dear Cameron,
I am sorry for making fun of you. It's just that you are growing a mustache. People are being more mean to me than to you. You are very kind and I like that you are not like Sarah (her sister), thankfully.
The Blondest
I edited this so-called apology letter mercilessly. "Get rid of the part about people being mean to you. This is not a letter about you. Cameron doesn't care what people are doing to you right now. And don't talk about your sister. That's an insult to her and it just doesn't make much sense in this letter anyway." She went back to her seat, deep in thought and clearly confused. She told me to apologize. I did. She told me to write some things I liked about him. I did. What else is there to say? At the end of class, she approached me with the re-write:
Dear Cameron,
I am sorry for making fun of you. It's just that you are growing a mustache, like all boys do. You are very kind. I like that you are a distraction.
The Blondest
She handed me the letter, pleased with her re-write. I stared at it in confusion and secretly laughed to myself. My 45 minutes with this class was over and the next group was waiting at the door. No time to continue dealing with it, I handed the letter off to the teacher and left matters in her hands. This is both the blessing and the curse of a music teacher (or any special area teacher) - the kids come and go in a very short period of time. Something that starts as my problem can become the classroom teacher's problem at the tick of the 45th minute. Glad to be done with it? Sure. But mostly, I was sad I wouldn't have any more hilarious back-handed apologies and compliments from the mind of a second grader to read through.
I thought of Cameron the rest of the night, wondering if he was inspecting his upper lip every time he passed a mirror. Maybe I'll bring in waxing strips next week...
Dear Cameron,
I am sorry for making fun of you. It's just that you are growing a mustache. People are being more mean to me than to you. You are very kind and I like that you are not like Sarah (her sister), thankfully.
The Blondest
I edited this so-called apology letter mercilessly. "Get rid of the part about people being mean to you. This is not a letter about you. Cameron doesn't care what people are doing to you right now. And don't talk about your sister. That's an insult to her and it just doesn't make much sense in this letter anyway." She went back to her seat, deep in thought and clearly confused. She told me to apologize. I did. She told me to write some things I liked about him. I did. What else is there to say? At the end of class, she approached me with the re-write:
Dear Cameron,
I am sorry for making fun of you. It's just that you are growing a mustache, like all boys do. You are very kind. I like that you are a distraction.
The Blondest
She handed me the letter, pleased with her re-write. I stared at it in confusion and secretly laughed to myself. My 45 minutes with this class was over and the next group was waiting at the door. No time to continue dealing with it, I handed the letter off to the teacher and left matters in her hands. This is both the blessing and the curse of a music teacher (or any special area teacher) - the kids come and go in a very short period of time. Something that starts as my problem can become the classroom teacher's problem at the tick of the 45th minute. Glad to be done with it? Sure. But mostly, I was sad I wouldn't have any more hilarious back-handed apologies and compliments from the mind of a second grader to read through.
I thought of Cameron the rest of the night, wondering if he was inspecting his upper lip every time he passed a mirror. Maybe I'll bring in waxing strips next week...