City in the Sky

"Emily, no one is going to take your place on the rug, right class?" I asked/told the kindergartners.  They agreed, several vocally.  "Let's walk to the rug".  Emily walked with the rest of the class for the first time, instead of running.  And, when she arrived at the rug, Riannon was seated in her place.  Emily started screaming, crying.  I was almost screaming.  "Get out of her place!  Out of her place!" the three teachers in the room, including myself, started saying desperately to the child in Emily's place on the rug.  "Whaa...," the little girl responded, "I was just, just...", "She doesn't understand, Riannon, Emily doesn't understand..!".  I couldn't believe it.  She would never trust us again.  What was Riannon thinking?  Why did she do that?  Riannon started to cry.  "I was saving her seat for her..." she said quietly, tears rolling down her face.  Two minutes into class and the kids were terrified, and at least two were crying.    "We are going to be okay," I told them quietly, "we are going to be fine".  I kept repeating it until the kids stopped crying.

I sat at my desk, which is really a little table, writing the names of colors on colored paper.  I started cutting them out quickly, trying to make a wall display.  I cut spikes and clouds around the words.   Brown looked like a turd.  I threw it away. 

The kids were mesmerized by the absolutely stupid puppet video I bought them.  I was shocked.  And pleased. I was afraid they would hate it, and obviously have no idea what a five year old thinks is funny.  I heard a fart.  It seemed impossible that it came out of the pretty porcelain girl with such dark eyelashes and pretty eyes.  But it did. 

Emily's hands and face were covered with marker.  I walked with her to the sink and turned the water on, instructing her to put her hands underneath. She did it.  She shifted with agitation while I dried her hands off.  She started to dart away.  "Emily, come back.  Can I wipe your face off?".  She stared back at me.  I carefully lifted the little pastel framed glasses to the top of her head.  She stared at me, immobile, the glass doll eyes directed straight ahead.  "I am going to wipe your face now" I told her, moving the wet paper towel down her face.  She cooed.  "Does it hurt?" I asked, alarmed, "Do you want me to stop?".  She stared straight ahead.  I continued to clean the marker off of her face.  She continued to coo, but stood rigidly still.

Her face was clean.

As Emily walked out of the room, she raised her hand, and high-fived me.