Names

Today was school picture day.  So Laura and I took our students down to the gym to have their photos taken.  I took it as an opportunity to have a few cherished little one-on-one interactions with the kids so that I could learn their names.  I used a few strategies to accomplish this task.  I identified the ones I already knew because they had made an impression on the first day.  I said hello to each of these kids, said their names a few times, and basically told them and myself that their names were in my brains.  Then I went around and asked the kids to tell me their names.  I had conversations.  I walked around the gym saying their names again and again and again.  A number of kids, whenever I said their names, would turn around and look at me as though they thought they were in trouble for something.  I associated them by who they sat with, what little pieces of information I already had about them--the girl who didn't like to be compared to her sister; the boy who always wore a ski cap; the boy who looked like a former student of mine; the girl who loves to sing in her church.

When we got them back to the classroom, we had them do a little bit of writing, and I walked the room, saying under my breath "Kelsey's writing", "Dylan's using a pen".  Etc.  I also cheated a little by looking at the names they had written at the top of the page.  And while Laura was leading the activity, I basically sat there with my class list quizzing myself.  By the end of each period, I felt like I had about 90% of the names down.

On my way out the door today, I passed a kid whose name I thought I knew and asked him: "Is your Donnie?"  And he said: "No, it's Dylan.  But nice try."

Outside the building I saw a child, and I was sure her name was Danielle, because she had the same name as two other girls in her class.  Her name was actually Darcy. 

It was exhausting work, trying to get all of their names.  I imagine that 30% of those names will disappear from my brain over the weekend, but I have a little writing sample from each of them, so I'll spend a little time tomorrow trying to refresh my memory.  And then begin again on Monday.  I do think they noticed that I was trying--that I was working very hard--to learn their names.  A few of them even expressed a little gratitude for it.  It strikes me as a pretty damning condemnation of the system that they were surprised to see me even attempting to get all of their names.

Walking back from the gym to class, I pulled Alex--a particularly bouncy and distractible child--away from--or off of--one of his peers.  Rather than scolding him or chastising him, I merely asked him to walk back to class with me.  Melanie--the child who loved to sing in the church--joined us.  I asked him to tell me a few things about himself.  He told me that he loved birds, toucans in particular.  Melanie, who I think was pretty hungry for attention, asked me if I wanted her to do the same.  I told her that I did.  She told me that she loved to sing in her church.  I learned that both of them lived near the school.

As we were preparing to enter the classroom, Melanie said: "Can I ask you something?  But I'm not sure it's appropriate."

"Go ahead," I said.  "We'll see if it's appropriate."

"Do you go to church?" she asked.

I thought for a moment, not about my answer but about her question.  I was struck, first and foremost, by her concern about the appropriateness of the question.  I suggests an underlying sensitivity to a person's faith, but also a sensitivity to the boundaries that exist--that must exist--between teachers and students, about what students are allowed to ask.

This is what I said in response: "I think it's great that you ask me if that was an appropriate question.  I think it's a fine question.  I don't go to church."  And then we were at the classroom door, and it was time to return to the world of sentences.  I wished I had had more time to give her some context.  What I think she was doing was trying to figure out what sort of person I was and to make a connection.  And I have this sneaking suspicion that that nascent connection couldn't have emerged were it not for my obvious effort to get to know my student's today, even the only things I learned were a few names and a few child's interests--toucans, singing, the spiritual world.