Kindergarten Kop-out

I can now add a new experience to my resume.

September 2006 --- 8:30-9:30 a.m.: Kindergarten aide, Kootenai School, Kootenai, ID
Duties included learning names, playing Bingo with
letters of the alphabet, supervising coloring assignment.

I can thank Betsy Walker for this opportunity. We talked last Saturday in the Yoke's parking lot. During our visit she suggested that I could volunteer at Kootenai now that I was in the neighborhood where she's the principal of the school. Then, she said, "You can come Monday for an hour, can't you? Mrs. Barney has 22 kindergartners and no aide. See you Monday."

I tried to say no, but saying no to my old friend Betsy is not an easy matter. She's too damn nice, so I tried a different ploy.

"Call me. Ya know my senior memory causes me to forget sometimes," I told her. "So, I'll need a telephone call Sunday night."

"See you Monday," she said and headed on into the store.

Betsy did not call Sunday night. I thought I was safe, but she sure did call just after 7 yesterday morning. Of course, my work ethic had me up, groomed and dressed, just in case. In case happened. I'd been hooked and had been told to report before 8:30.

I drove to the school, had time to visit for 30 seconds with the office staff and note that the painting of the old Kootenai School on their reception desk had been done by my mother. Then, Betsy was leading me off toward Mrs. Barney's room. Mrs. Barney was out of her room; so were her students. They were practicing hall line-ups which, in yesterday's version, emphasized silent screams while waving arms wildly.

I'd never met Mrs. Barney, and she had no clue who I was. So, Betsy introduced us. Mrs. Barney looks like a sweet grandmotherly kindergarten teacher. I noticed soon, however, that Mrs. Barney has voices for different needs. She can be oh so quiet while whispering to her students.

She can also be stern when, during her explanations about the bin corner, two kindergartners insist on hugging each other, talking out loud and picking each other up into the air. After several infractions and mild warnings within 30 seconds, Mrs. Barney's soft voice turned stern and directed the two wiggleworms to their respective tables.

I watched as Mrs. Barney told the 5-year-olds what they were going to do while she summoned single students into the back room for testing. I tried to mentally note all instructions---the bingo letters, who was supposed to collect the cards and blocks, who was supposed to pass out the coloring assignment, which involved scarecrows. I also thought I had figured out by the earlier infractions of Mrs. Barney's nonwiggle rules who was going to present the biggest challenges.

Then, Mrs. Barney turned the class over to Mrs. Love, called a student's name and headed to the back room. She said a bell would ring at 9:30 and the students should push their chairs back to their tables and head out for recess. She forgot to tell me that they had to line up like good little soldiers before going out the door.

It was 8:45 when my duties began. I learned by 8:46 how long kindergartners attention spans can be. I knew that yelling "sit down and shut up" would not pack it on my first day as a kindergarten volunteer aide, so early on, I employed the "silent smile" routine. That meant that when it was, indeed, time to "sit down and shut up," I would yell "silent smile," model the expected expression and perform as a ventriloquist with the next instructions.

If I acted quickly, I could almost spit out what I had to say by the time all 22 little faces contorted into fake smiles with their teeth showing. After all when you're doing that, you can't make too much noise. Try it. The silent smile saved me yesterday, but the bell didn't. It refused to ring at 9:30.

I'd looked at my watch at least a dozen times during that session, especially after one little girl came up and tattled on another little girl at another table for being mean to her table mates. I told her it wasn't nice to tattle and to sit down while I checked out what was happening at the table where the mean table teacher was making life miserable for her fellow students.

Mrs. Barney had assigned a teacher at each table. In this case, the said teacher had told other students to put the scissors back in their container. I tended to agree with her when I learned of the dispute. Nothing in the coloring assignment had yet called for scissors, so the 5-year-old teacher had taken responsibility. As I left the table, I noticed that Miss Tattle Tale was playing with scissors at her table.

"Nice diversion," I said to her. "You just sent me over there so you could play with your scissors." These kids learn some things very quickly. In the meantime, I observed purple scarecrows, black scarecrows and some pretty scary scarecrows. Some students have that dexterity down better than others. I also noticed that the naughty girls from early in the hour had turned very nice. Progress!

Nonetheless, my watch was saying 9:30, so I told them it was time to put down their coloring and get ready to slide their chairs to their tables for recess. They generally followed instructions while one little boy asked to go to the restroom and a little girl said she needed to go get a drink.

"You can do that when the bell rings," I told them. Well, the bell did not ring at 9:30, nor at 9:31. I know because I looked at my watch both times and silently prayed for the ding-a-ling, as Mrs. Barney referred to it when she came back into the room and wondered why it had not gone off. Then, she noticed that the little tykes had not lined up properly. She directed them all back to their seats and told them to walk back into line carefully and correctly.

It was then that I knew I'd flunked the kindergarten aide screening test, and I was very glad. The bell eventually rang. Mrs. Barney and I chitchatted for a few minutes. She said I did a good job. I said thank you and began my silent but relieved walk down the hallway. On my way out, I saw Betsy.

"Are you coming back tomorrow?" she asked.

"No, I'm busy," I lied, later telling friends and family that the gap between teaching high school and kindergarten is far too vast for this ol' goat. Fifth grade for my sister, maybe. But I think Betsy needs to contact Arnold for her next candidate as Kootenai's kindergarten aide. He's had far more experience, and I know the Terminator can whip those kids into shape far better than I.