My Grandma's Cat
THE Story About Teaching
You're a highly qualified teacher. You've sat through endless classes, read scores of books, and jumped through wacky hoops to get your license. You've made it through the worst of the first few years, enduring where others quit. You've sat through useless PD and survived dozens of meetings which could have been emails. You can smell a fad a mile away. You know your craft.
You're prepared for this lesson. You've refreshed on the content and your materials are ready. Everything begins well as you lead the class through the material like learning a dance. So far so good. Time to work the crowd.
"Does anybody know the answer?"
You hold your breath and wait, the questions and answers and possible permutations dancing through your mind. Count to five, your student teaching advisor once explained. Let them process. Just as you start to doubt your delivery, a hand shoots up. The correct answer is…
"So my grandma has a cat..."
No, no. That's not it. Hopefully this will be quick.
"And sometimes, he sneaks into the fridge and eats all the cheese."
So this won't be quick. You hope they breathe so you can gently redirect with "That's not it" and move on, but--
"I tried putting a leash on it once, but he flew and climbed the ceiling..."
You nod and say uh-huh, being kind and supportive, not cutting them off rudely, hoping they will end shortly, and--
"One time he climbed into the Christmas tree and had kittens!"
His classmates share confused looks. One snickers. Another squirms. You try looking positive, but you have a bad poker face. Do your shifting, squinting eyebrows signal confusion or constipation? C'mon, your grandmother's cat is off topic and--Wait! They paused to breathe! Finally! It's like they were a doll with an endless pull string and--
Scratch that. He's still going. Does the kid circular breathe?
"Another time my grandma's cat dyed his hair green after swimming to Australia..."
Mentally you're banging your head against the wall. If you cut them off rudely, maybe they won't volunteer again and... You know. That's not so bad. The kid's bonkers anyways.
"Ooo! Ooo! I think I know the answer Mr. --"
I think of these moments whenever politicians pontificate about what “happens” in the classroom. I think of these moments whenever parents want to police the classroom. I understand why some school stories become news. But why do the only opinions that count come from those who aren’t there? Why are eyewitness accounts so categorically discarded?
But for all extremes, countless peculiar and bewildering and honest and unfiltered moments come and go. Sure, the “grandma’s cat” kids annoy, but at least they trust us enough to share, right?
Now if only legislators could spend 180 days with such kids before creating policy obstacle courses…
