Deep Thoughts

By the Fourth Grade

On our first morning after a two-week winter break, I presented the following Question of the Day to my class: Would you rather eat broccoli with chocolate syrup or ice cream with ketchup?

Truthfully, shortsightedly, I assumed most of the responses would be “Ew!” or “I don’t want either!” Of course, my students know me well enough by now to know I prefer thoughtful answers, and that’s what they gave:

Broccoli because I don’t like most kinds of ice cream.

Broccoli with chocolate syrup because ketchup DOES NOT belong on anything that’s already cold.

Broccoli with chocolate syrup, maybe it will make the broccoli not be tasted.

Broccoli and chocolate syrup it just is better than ice cream and ketchup.

None it’s just so disgusting in my opinion.

Ice cream and ketchup because the other one sounds gross.

Eat broccoli with chocolate because I am not a big fan of ice cream.

Broccoli I feel like it would taste good.

Broccoli with chocolate because I don’t like ketchup.

I will eat broccoli with chocolate because I don’t want to eat ice cream with ketchup.

Broccoli with chocolate syrup because I don’t like any type of sauce [condiment].

Ice cream with ketchup but they both sound gross.

Ice cream with ketchup I don’t know why.

Broccoli with chocolate syrup because ketchup would ruin ice cream.

My mind was particularly blown by the girl who proclaimed that ketchup doesn’t go on cold things (I couldn’t come up with an exception, can you?), and the idea that making ice cream gross is an unpardonable sin. Hilariously, as I was searching for a drawing tutorial for a little reward time, I came across an actual video for drawing broccoli with chocolate sauce — results shown below!

We began our Poetry unit this week, and as has generally been my experience, the children are surprised by how much they like it. First of all, many of the texts are quite short — a fact that delights them. They also discovered that poems can be silly or whimsical. My favorite moment is when I explain that poets end up breaking a LOT of writing rules — capital letters, punctuation, and even sometimes rhythm and rhyme!

I thoroughly enjoy the times when my students express insight that freezes me in place. We read a poem by Harryette Mullen called Ask Aden:

Are aardvarks anxious?

Do dragons dream?

Ever seen an eager elephant?

Newts are never nervous, are they?

When I asked the students what they observed about the text, they immediately noticed the use of the same letter several times in each line (alliteration, new vocabulary!) and the fact that all the lines were questions (repetition!), as well as them all being about animals. One child spoke up to say that the feelings and actions in the questions are ones that usually relate to humans, not animals.

I swear that kid was not a plant, but she did provide a tidy transition into my next question: Why might this person be asking all these questions? Someone said they were just being silly, which is fair. Sometimes we are just silly for silly’s sake. Someone else piped up to say that this person must be curious about animals. Then — THEN, DEAR READERS — one boy raised his hand and mused, “Maybe the person wants to make us curious about animals.” This statement broke the conversation wide open. We talked about what might happen if we were more curious about animals and their feelings and experiences. We talked about kindness, compassion, and empathy. It was fantastic.

The world is a dark place, and I don’t see it getting lighter anytime soon. However, most of the bright spots I do encounter are because of these students. It is a great mistake to think of children as miniature adults. They are flexible, open-minded, and compassionate in ways that adults lost long ago. They flourish and expand with new ideas, and have a joy in discovery that simply disappears if we are not careful.

Many of you have commented over my last three years that I must be a wonderful teacher, and that you’d have loved to have me when you were in 4th grade. While this warms my heart and gives me strength in ways you don’t even know, I want to assure you that this kind of teaching is happening everywhere. When folks ask me about my job, it is so easy for both of us to fall back on the things that are hard about it: low pay, increasing behaviors, budget shortfalls, large class sizes, etc. I wish I was inspired to talk about all the good things: the surprising insights and comments, the giggles and joy and love that I experience most days. I enthusiastically encourage you to ask these things of the educators in your orbit. (But hey, being a listening ear for the hard stuff is also super necessary and appreciated!)

Thanks for reading. Take care of yourselves, and each other.

Love, Susie

Gross desserts!