A classroom vignette:
I am sitting at my reading table with a couple of kids that need help with a writing activity. The other kids are all busy and relatively quiet at their tables. I glance up and scan the room several times a minute to make sure that all is well, i.e., Rochelle hasn't sneaked into the cubbies to rifle through others' backpacks, Alex is not decorating inside picture books, Roberto and Wilbur are not playing punch tag, etc.
Wait. I sense a disturbance in the force. Why is Yesenia's head down on the table? I can't see her face. Is she resting, or crying? Why is Elaina leaning over to look more closely? And why does Rochelle, that little shit, have a nasty, smug expression on her face?
Back story: Yesenia has no social skills and is an easy target. It's not her fault. She has a learning disabilty, including a language processing disorder, and she can be difficult. Rochelle has bullied her all goddamned year long. Rochelle is a queen bee (there are several in my class), smart as a whip, and Yesenia is always on the outs. I have addressed this through gentle conversations with the offenders, strongly worded conversations with the offenders, loss of recess time for the offenders, proactive strategy sessions with the victim, role-playing scenarios with the victim, whole-class role-playing scenarios, parent phone calls, parent conferences, visits to the principal, and trips to the guidance counselor. The problem has ebbed and flowed all year and I am sick of dealing with it.
"Come here, Yesenia," I say.
She stumbles over to my table with her hair in her face and I see that she has been quietly weeping.
"What's wrong, honey?" I ask.
"Rochelle say I'm [mumbles trailing off into sobs]"
"Rochelle said, honey. Not say. Tell me again. I can't understand what you said."
Dammit. I've been working with her on past-tense all goddamned year.
"Rochelle say I'm mumble mumble sob mumble shriek"
I feel my irritation mounting. What did that little brat say to Yesenia? Or is Yesenia confusing time and place again? Is it something that happened a month ago that Yesenia just remembered?
"I can't understand you. Take a deep breath and try to stop crying."
"Rochelle say I'm going down there! SHRIEK! SOB!"
"Going down where?"
What the hell is she talking about? Is Rochelle making fun of the fact that she goes downstairs to see the resource teacher? But lots of kids go out of the room for different things. How would Rochelle even put that together?
"She say I'm going down there! [points down with her finger] Where the debbil is!"
"Rochelle said you are going to HELL?"
I hear a few gasps. The classroom is suddenly very quiet. They live in a very religious community, and every year my first-graders loooooove to talk about God and Jesus and heaven. If they mention hell it is never by name. They call it "down there" and they point cautiously, as if the very gesture might somehow alert the "debbil" to the fact of their existence.
"Rochelle. Come here."
I am using my dangerously quiet, crisp voice.
"Did you say that to Yesenia?"
Rochelle's eyes are big and innocent, but she nods. She won't bother to deny it. Too many witnesses at the table.
"Why would you say something like that?"
She just stares at me and doesn't say anything.
"Go to time-out."
Man, that was close. I almost said, "WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?"
I turn to Yesenia, who is still snuffling and sobbing.
"Yesenia. Look at me. You are not going to hell. I promise. Is Rochelle God? Is Rochelle in charge of who goes to hell? Alright then. You have my permission to tell Rochelle to shut up. If anyone ever tells you that you are going to hell, ask them if they are God. If they're not, they can't say who's going to hell, okay?"
Despite what you might hear at church or on TV or from your own parents.
* * * * *
Dudes, I was pissed. It wasn't so much what was said, but to whom it was said. The child who loves the mean girls and craves their attention. The child who doesn't have enough language in English OR Spanish to defend herself.
After school, we all stand in the gymnasium with the walkers and hand them off to parents, siblings, or babysitters. Rochelle's mother arrived, and I asked a team-mate who speaks Spanish to translate an on-the-spot parent conference for me.
I described the incident to Mom. I mentioned that the bullying has been an on-going issue. Mom said she knew nothing about any of it.
I call bullshit on that, but fine, whatever.
Mom looked down at Rochelle and asked her in Spanish, "Why did you say that?"
And Rochelle looked up at her with big eyes, shrugged, and said simply, "Es la verdad." (It's the truth.)
My friend doing the translating actually gasped when Rochelle said that, and broke out of translating mode to begin chastizing her in Spanish. I explained to the mom that the child in question also comes from a religious home and she understands the implications of going to hell and the poor thing was very upset AND BY THE WAY, WHY IS YOUR KID SUCH A SHIT AND WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TEACHING HER AT HOME?
I didn't really say that last part, but I think it was implied.
The mother said a few things to her daughter, then left. My translator told me that the mother said, "We don't know that. You can't say that to people."
I hope they will talk about it more at home, and I hope the mother really meant what she said.
I fault Rochelle for the meanness and the bullying, not for what she actually said. I understand that she has been taught a very fire-and-brimstone evangelical form of Christianity, and that she is merely parroting what she's heard. Her understanding, filtered through her mean-girl brain, comes down to:
- Bad people go to hell.
- Yesenia is dumb. No one likes her. She tattletales on me. She is bad!
- Yesenia is going to hell.
- Hey, I think I'll tell her!
And I feel a tiny bit bad, because Rochelle is just a little girl, and I am her first-grade teacher. And it's been hard for me to like her. It's been hard all year long.
Es la verdad.
Ugh.
For me, the two hardest things about being a teacher are 1) trying to work with kids who are willfully mean and 2) finding ways to cope with and accept crappy parenting decisions. (Some issues, like paperwork and testing, I don't have to worry about because I teach pre-K in a private school.)
Posted by: TJ | June 11, 2011 at 01:48 PM
Already with the bullying and name calling? In the name of religion and meanness. *sigh* I hate hearing about how mean little kids can be.
Posted by: Margaret | June 11, 2011 at 01:53 PM
I hope every teacher that gets hold of the mean girl keeps up the pressure. We have 2 bullies in my office and it is a daily chore not to slap their faces right off. These are horrible traits to have and she needs to be stopped before she ends up going to hell. Sorry, I could not resist. Es la verdad.
Posted by: the bee | June 11, 2011 at 02:02 PM
This post is perfection. Send-to-teacher-magazine-for-publication perfection.
Posted by: Swistle | June 11, 2011 at 04:37 PM
I admire your honesty.
Posted by: blackbird | June 11, 2011 at 05:51 PM
Uh-oh. Maybe I was too honest.
Posted by: Miz S | June 11, 2011 at 05:53 PM
I admire and am Grateful that you are such a strong advocate for those who need someone at their side.
The nasty girl should know that we're all going to Heaven, because God forgives all our crappy behavior and words.
You are a Blessing to all your students.
I agree that this story should be published. It will show other teachers in similar circumstances that it's OK to Firmly stand up for the needy children.
Posted by: Margaret | June 11, 2011 at 06:06 PM
I have visions of a millstone around some big fat loud well dressed preacher's neck. and maybe a momma's too. Matthew 18:6
Thanks for standing up for what is right.
Posted by: Cathy S. | June 11, 2011 at 09:34 PM
You should have whispered very quietly in that little QB Shit's ear "No, I know for a fact YOU are going to actually burn in hell. God told me." and then stand up and say loudly to the rest of the class "Oh dear, I just told her she has to go to the principal and look how upset she is!" (You didn't want to keep teaching next year, did ya?! ;)
I always knee-jerk react to Mean Kid stories. Yesenia is very much like Ryan. But luckily, he could give a rip about the mean kids. Aspergers has its benefits...
Posted by: MsCellania | June 11, 2011 at 11:08 PM
This too shall end. Es la verdad.
Posted by: Liza Lee Miller | June 12, 2011 at 01:26 AM
Ahh, the things that are said and done in the name of religion.
I'm never shocked by the mean spirited us vs. them attitude exhibited by the holier than thou clan.
As for the bully, ... La manzana no cae lejos del árbol.
Now about this writing... damn girl! Sweet.
Posted by: FC | June 12, 2011 at 07:58 AM
I'd have to have a glass of wine or a cocktail that evening to recover from the whole situation.
Posted by: maddy | June 12, 2011 at 08:50 AM
Oh dear. This is possibly the worst example of mean girl behavior I've ever heard. Yesenia will remember it, but she will also remember how you stood up for her, and assured her that she is not going to hell. Bullying is bad enough, but religious bullying is particularly reprehensible, and SO NOT consistent with the nature of God. Kudos, too, for your concern for Rochelle, distasteful she may be, but still a little girl.
I also agree, that this story needs to be published. Many great lessons here.
Posted by: Sophie | June 12, 2011 at 09:16 AM
It's been a long time since I was in the first grade, but I swear I don't remember anyone talking about who was going to hell or not. Yikes, what has happened in the intervening 54 years? Kids got bullied back then, but mostly for being lousy at kick ball or something. Hell? That wasn't even on our radar. Why is it on the lips of first graders these days?
I absolutely love how you handled this, and I wish that you never have to again.
Posted by: robin andrea | June 12, 2011 at 11:12 AM
And this is why you were called to teacherdom.
Your awesomeness in dealing with the shitty kids that have been created from evil parenting never ceases to overwhelm me.
Initial reaction is how dare the little cow speak like that to a schoolmate. And then you realise how old she is. And THEN you see the parent's reaction.
Sheesh.
I don't know if you have teacher of the year but I would vote for you every time.
Posted by: Cazza | June 13, 2011 at 06:16 AM
TJ: 1) yup. 2) double-yup. Hey, is your mom's name Hope? I think she used to read my blog and tell me about how you were going to be a teacher.
Margaret - I know, right? But it's my job to try and teach them not to be. Actually, it's their parents' job, but you know how that goes.
Bee - your office bully is particularly bad. But try not to slap.
Swistle - thanks! I might have to take out the swear-y words.
blackbird - some kids are hard to like. Sad, I know. But I would still take a bullet for her.
Other Margaret - every teacher I know stands up for the underdog kids.
Cathy S. -- dag, you know your Bible. I'm Catholic, therefore I can't quote shit from the bible.
MsCellania -- curb those instincts, woman!
Liza - 4 more days!!!
FC - thanks, dude.
Maddy - I believe I DID have a drink that evening.
Sophie - I'm afraid this will just be one in a string of bad memories for poor Yesenia. School is hard for her.
Robin - I know. My friends and I never talked about heaven and hell, either. Even though we all went to church every week. These families are mostly Latino immigrants and a lot of them are SUPER religious. I hear all kinds of interesting philosophical discussions among the children.
Cazza - Her parents aren't evil. Her mother seems overwhelmed a lot, and she doesn't do much to rein in her high-spirited daughters (the older sister is even more of a handful), but she's doing her best I'm sure.
You're sweet to think of me as Teacher of the Year, but I'm quite average, I assure you.
Posted by: Miz S | June 13, 2011 at 07:59 AM
Gawd. Why am I ALWAYS late to every party? And now it's probably too late to get a comment back. Anyway, following up on what FC said, Hay una manzana podrida en cada barril. About one child out of every hundred I saw in my therapy practice I just couldn't like. And I felt guilty about that even though those few often ended up continuing on, growing from little shits to big shits. The thing is, you keep trying. Una manzana para la maestra!
Also, what Cathy said, because she practices a righteous and kind religion.
Posted by: Vicki | June 13, 2011 at 12:12 PM
I LOVE THIS POST.
Posted by: Tessie | June 13, 2011 at 05:33 PM
Vicki - La maestra accepts all apples gratefully. Although, I have a hankering for blueberries lately.
Tessie - I'm flattered that you liked it :)
Posted by: Miz S | June 13, 2011 at 08:52 PM
Oh, don't give me too much credit! I know bits and pieces of verses, but never where to find them. I go to www.biblegateway.com and put in a keyword like millstone and voila, there's the verse! Even a Catholic can do it. ;0)
Posted by: Cathy S. | June 16, 2011 at 09:06 PM
I would have said "Of course she isn't! Only mean people go down there!"
Posted by: Stokesia | June 17, 2011 at 09:25 PM
Here for the first time. I enjoyed your anecdote, a teacher who gives a rip about classroom dynamics and kids' feelings and acts on it! Thought I'd share an anecdote. My daughter is often bullied and/or socially excuded at recess and here is how she dealt with it this year in 3rd grade: The teacher, oblivious to all, decided that if the home work wasn't done (this is a constant issue with my daughter), my daughter would have to stay in for recess to get the homework done. They even signed a contract! This made the homework issue even worse, since not doing the homework meant that she could stay in from recess. In other words, the punishment was actually a reward!
Posted by: kt | June 18, 2011 at 08:05 AM
Love it Mary! I asked my Kinders once what happens when you tell a lie and I had a tiny, sassy one spout off, "yous go to hells, Ms. Bender. Skrate to hells!!!" Luckily, she never became a mean girls but thoroughly indoctrinated with the high and holy.
Posted by: Phaedra | June 18, 2011 at 12:09 PM
To kt:
Your comment made me sad. That worked for me, too, as a kid, but the cost to my social development was high. Hope next year's teacher is more fully involved in ALL aspects of education of our youngsters. They deserve the best we can give them!
Posted by: Karenth | June 18, 2011 at 05:49 PM
Whoa. It makes me sad because as a parent I see such a small portion of what really happens. My son is blind and an easy target. There are some really mean little sh!theads at our school. One is actually named Turbo. WTF?!? I have to say that our teachers are fabulous and I'm impressed that they don't really hide their disdain for the sh!theads.
Posted by: Sascha | June 18, 2011 at 10:10 PM
I found this post through a link on Swistle's blog. I too teach first grade this year, and I have a Rochelle in my class -- she is SO MEAN. One day, I actually told her, "You are being a MEAN. GIRL." because of the way she made another little girl cry on the carpet, while whispering mean things in her ear while I was trying to teach a math lesson. It was terrible! Her mother doesn't do much to stop it either.
I just totally understand this post, totally.
Posted by: Ms. Key | June 19, 2011 at 07:35 PM
Once upon a time, when I used to teach middle school, I sat in a conference with what we liked to call a "willful non-learner." Not that he was incapable of learning, just that at age 12 he had decided he was checking out. He was lazy, and didn't do his work and just couldn't be bothered to care. After hearing from all of his teachers, his mother turned to him and raised an eyebrow. "Mom! It's not my fault. They don't like me." Here eyes opened wide and she snapped back, "You are rude in class, you don't do as you're told, you have zero respect for your teachers, OF COURSE THEY DON'T LIKE YOU.
I mean, it's the truth. Some kids are hard to like. Teachers aren't immune to bad behavior. But, the reality is that you treated her as you would have treated any student who acted that way, which says more about you than "liking" her could ever do.
Posted by: Mama Bub | June 21, 2011 at 06:18 PM