Fringe People

One of the things that makes me good at what I do is that I have not forgotten what it felt like to be a kid.

I remember being overwhelmed quite often, the noise level, the activity level, the newness of things. A new school year was always stressful, more so due to the number of moves we made. I had K and 1 in Colorado, 2nd grade in Vale, Oregon. 3rd and 4th grades were LaGrande, Oregon, 5th grade John Day, Oregon. I lived there until I left home the last half of my junior year in high school and went back to the town I'd originally started school in to finish high school.

I felt nervous and upset and confused during each of those moves. That's when I began my lifelong habit of hanging back. Watching what's going on from a distance. Deciding after a period of observation, sometimes days or weeks at what level I'd participate.

It would have been so much easier if someone had noticed how hard it was for me, but being one kid out of dozens in a classroom setting or out of hundreds in a school setting doesn't get you a lot of individualized attention.

Another fault of our school system, really.

Children rarely receive the support they need, not knowing how to ask for it. Adults rarely see the child struggling, either, having many others to deal with. Unless the kid acts out or in some way draws large amounts of attention to themselves, they just sort of muddle through.

Oh sure, that's one way to develop some coping skills.

I don't think it's 100% bad to put kids into situations and allow them to learn to navigate, either. But I also feel that it's up to the adults around them to see when they're having difficulties and assist them through that if possible. To be a support person when necessary.

The older I get, and the longer I do this job, the smaller and more helpless the K age kids seem to be. They're not different, of course. What's different is my perspective and the years of experience I bring to my work.

Let's take Sarah as an example.

Sarah is a young 5, she was four years old until July of this year when she turned 5. Everything in school is completely new for her. Standing in line and learning where to find the bathroom (and being afraid of the LOUD sound of the toilets and not flushing) and how to operate the push button on the sinks. Knowing where to put her lunch box and where to hang her jacket and a million other little things that will be second nature to her next school year.

She copes all day long, and then comes to me after school.

When the kids pour in after school, our room is noisy. They're shouting greetings to one another, siblings are greeting each other after being apart all day. It's a time to decide what activities they're going to participate in, ask me what's for snack, stop by to get a shoe tied, ask if they can go to the bathroom. It's about 10 minutes of chaos, really. I have to make calls to locate any missing kids. There's a 15 minute window to make sure each one is safe. After that 15 minutes, if the school doesn't know where they are, I don't know where they are or the parent doesn't know, I am required to notify the police and a search begins. And no, I haven't had to do that yet.

:::frantically knocking on wood here:::

So I can't devote more than  a few seconds of attention to any one child until everyone has been accounted for. I think most of my families are figuring out they need  to call me, it's been a little easier this week.

But it's chaos. It's busy and fast-paced and frantic and loud and scary for a small person, even though I want it to be a good place for everyone.

Sarah's grandmother picked her up from my program on Monday afternoon. She told me that she came to get Sarah early because she really didn't like being there after school. "She doesn't like being at school at all," she told me. "She would much rather be at home where it's quiet and where she can read a book or take a nap without being disturbed. She just wants to go home after school, but that's not possible, her dad and mom both work. I just happened to be available today to come get her."

And because I don't have it arranged the way I want, until this week there weren't places to go and be on the fringes and observe. I am sorry to say that I didn't notice how timid Sarah was, she found things to do and played with another little girl most days and didn't require much from me.

Again... if the kid doesn't act out, sometimes the adult doesn't notice there's an issue.

So I fixed a chill zone near my little area of the room.
A table with two chairs and a little sign. "Quiet Area".

I made a general announcement to all the kids during one of our informal chats.
"Sometimes when you have had a busy day at school and you'd like to relax with a book or a coloring project or just sit, this is the place for that. You can sit here as long as you'd like to and you can play with any of the toys or use any of the art supplies you want to use. The same rules apply here, that you have to put away the things you've gotten out and that you clean up your own mess."

So now Sarah can come in, drop her backpack in a basket and come sit on the fringes and observe until she feels like joining in.

No one else has shown an interest in being a fringe person with me, but that's okay.

It's a safe spot for Sarah, and another lesson for me. I am good at what I do, but I don't notice everything and there is always a way for me to improve the program.