Teaching Elementary, My Dear Watson

17 - Modeling

17

Modeling

Monday-Wednesday, November 14-16

Kevin woke up, exhausted. He felt hurt and sad because of the proof that his wife had been dishonest with him for the first time.

Why did she lie to me?

He felt like he didn't matter to her, due to communication issues, a lack of attention, and feelings of abandonment. All the negatives added up and weighed on him, like a huge barbell across his chest.

Then his rational side kicked in.

I've just been listening to my pain. I haven't checked out my assumptions. How many times have you watched issues on the playground become heated because some young students thought that something unfair was said or they believed a wrong was done and didn't look for the truth? Has she earned the benefit of my doubt? For better or worse. I owe her commitment, love, and a chance.

*****

Lessons sometimes had interruptions like today. John, his macho kid, hid Graciela's lunch. She had been upset when she couldn't find it and Kevin had to stop teaching until he solved the problem. John told his teacher privately during his recess detention, "Mr. Watson, I like her. I just wanted to get her attention."

"John, that's not the way you want to get her to notice you. Trust me on this. Do something she will appreciate." And Kevin gave him some examples.

"Oh, I never thought of that. Thanks, Mr. Watson."

"Okay John, go join the rest of the class outside. Be kind to Graciela and all of the others."

Kids. I should hope we've progressed from the time when the caveman hit his intended over the head with a club!

*****

For cross country, the sky welcomed the runners, its intermittent clouds mixed with hazy blue. Since they had the timing down on the softball diamond, Kevin switched to the huge field. He put cones at 110-yard intervals around a huge oval 660 yards long, a third of a mile. He gave the team some pacing instructions for the larger course and got them started. A few reverted to the wasteful sprinting that became walking soon thereafter. But most understood and followed his shouted count. He began with a thirty-second pace per cone, which translated into 18 minutes for the whole two miles. But had he talked to Valerie separately before beginning, encouraging a couple of the other better runners to listen to them.

"How far do you run with your family?"

"Usually about two miles, sometimes more, sometimes less."

"How long does it take you?"

"Well, I know I can make it in less than fifteen minutes."

Kevin divided his head. He addressed all. "For Valerie, 25 seconds per cone, two and a half minutes back to me per lap. If you feel strong starting the last time around when I say 12 minutes 30 seconds, go a little faster and see what you can do. Everyone else, start running thirty seconds per cone, 3 minutes per lap, which is a nine-minute mile. You'll hear me say 15 minutes at the beginning of the last lap. As the week goes on, we'll see if you need to go faster or slower. When you finish I'll shout out your final time. By the end of the week you'll have a system and your legs will know how fast to go. Any questions?"

No.

Some struggled, but others did better than expected. Valerie finished in just over fourteen minutes. She could go faster. The next day they would aim for 23 seconds per cone, a little less than 13:50 overall. See how that felt for her and be ready to drop it another second per cone if all went well. This gal was something else. Could she run a pair of six-minute miles?