Crushing on the Captain

One-Tyler Eats Glue on My Big Day

        I put my hands on my hips. "Tyler, are you eating in my class?"

        Tyler, despite being covered in chocolate from his lip to his chin, tried to deny it. "No, Miss Eve."

        "Well if you're not eating now, you must've eaten a minute ago. You must have enough for the class," I said brightly. "I'd like some too, if you have an extra."

        Tyler turned bright red. "I-I ate it," he mumbled. I could see the wrapper clenched in his fist beneath his desk.

        "Throw away the wrapper. This is a reminder to everyone that our class has a no food rule," I announced. While I didn't mind kids eating, since it wasn't much of a distraction, I did mind the mess. At first, my rule had been no crackers, no crumbs, no spills, no sauces or drinks, and no candy. Then one year in, I'd simply made the rule no food, because no matter how long the prohibited list was, kids will find a way to make a mess.

         Tyler shuffled towards the front of the class, tossing the wrapper of his fruit snacks into the waste-bin. I thanked him, returning to the board a moment later. This was the last week of class before Christmas break, and while yes, I had planned a Christmas party for my wonderful first-graders, we still had to learn important things. Our party had been yesterday, filled with sugary delights and fun decorations.

        "So who remembers our rule about when we see these two letters together?" I asked, pointing to I and E in the word piece.

        "I before E except after C," they all chanted, except for Tyler, who was too embarrassed from being caught.

        "Good. Now piece is a good example of this, because here's our I and E, and then we don't even have to worry about the C because it's over here," I explained. "There are a lot of words that don't follow this rule, but generally you can use it."

Brianna's hand shot up. "Yes, Bri?"

"Why do they have the rule if certain words won't follow it?" she asked, a slightly lisp in her voice thanks to her two front teeth being missing.

Good question. "I don't know," I confessed. I always felt terrible lying to my students, so I generally tried avoiding it. Especially when it was because I simply didn't know something. "But we'll get to those words eventually. For now, this is our magic wand when we see I and E."

        "Magic wand" was my fancy trick for keeping kids engaged. Whenever we had a "rule," such as this new one, or using parentheses in math, or a silent E in grammar, we called it a magic wand. When a problem or word was harder than it was, we said that a magic wand would magically make it easier than it looked to figure out.

        "WHOOSH!" the kids shouted, waving their right hands as if they had wands.

        Grabbing the stack of papers from my overstuffed folder, I announced, "We're going to work our way through spelling some 'i-e' words. Look at some of the pictures and see if you can figure out the word that matches it. All of the words have 'i-e' in them, if you need a hint."

        There was a great burst of chatter as I handed out the sheets of paper. My rule was that as long as we weren't taking a test or a quiz, you were free to talk to your neighbors. So how did I manage to keep them from goofing off? Because I offered prizes.

        Offering prizes to six and seven-year-olds was possibly my greatest idea yet.

        The challenge wasn't always the same. Sometimes it was for the best score. Sometimes it was for who could do an assignment the fastest without mistakes. Sometimes it was who had the most creative or funniest answers. Sometimes it was who had the best handwriting. Sometimes I literally put every paper in my giant fishbowl (which I'd bought for this purpose) and drew at random. It was a great way to ensure everyone had a chance to win.