Reflections As A Teacher- One Year Later

I’m coming up to my one year anniversary as a teacher at Alef Bet (and as a Boston resident). It is remarkable to see how much has changed, and how much the children have grown. There have been a lot of changes in the Bet class this year- we started out with 7 children, and now we have 9, though only 3 of whom were here since the very beginning. Some children left to go to a different school, some have moved up from the Alef class (aged 15 months- 2.8 years), and others have returned to their home country. Nonetheless, there has been an obvious amount of growth in all the children.

The other day, a child asked me if I knew who moved his shoes before rest-time. The children remove their shoes and place them on a cabinet in a line, usually focusing on where they put their shoes, whether it be in the middle, on the side, or next to a particular friend’s shoes. I told the child I didn’t know who moved his shoes. “I’m gonna go ask people who moved my shoes so I know who to be mad at.” I tried to hold in a chuckle while I responded to the child. “I’m sure whoever moved your shoes didn’t want to be mean, they were probably just looking for some space for their shoes.” But there were several steps of development that went into this comment. First was the recollection of where the child put his shoes. Second was the realization that someone had moved the shoes. Third was the speech that the child used- not only did he say he was going to ask who moved his shoes, but claimed he was going to be “mad” at the person who moved his shoes. He was aware of his emotional state and was able to articulate it.

Another child- a former Alef student- accidentally scratched another student on one occasion. When the affected student cried out, the one who scratched her asked, “Are you okay?” as per suggestions by the teachers to check in with a friend when they are hurt. When the child said no, the “scratcher” asked, “How many kisses?” As in, “How many kisses should I give your scratch so that it feels better?” This is something modeled by the teachers- actually something I myself learned from my coworker- that depending on how bad the injury was, the child can decide how many kisses it needs to make it feel better. The child who had done the scratching in the beginning of the year did not use to acknowledge her friends- I didn’t know know whether this was because she did not understand her responsibility in this act or whether she simply refused to do so. This same girl also did not articulate well and was often (and sometimes still is) difficult to understand. But I watched wide-eyed as she fully acknowledged her peer and offered kisses.

I love the work that I do, but I sometimes question whether my role as a preschool teacher is easy and insignificant, compared to my peers’ line of work- my roommate who just finished an internship at an office that specializes in health care policy; a peer who works as a software developer at a high-tech company; a friend who works as a professor at MIT. But then I see the complex towers made in the block area; the many various letters created by children in the play dough area; or a child says or does something that represents a major breakthrough in their development. And that is a big deal, both in the eyes of us, their teachers, and their parents. I’ve been told on multiple occasions that a child comes home describing the things they have learned, or that we have done in class- a child who asks his mom for some coins to put in the tzedakah box (charity); a mom who comes in beaming, blown away by how much her daughter knows about the Passover story. Sometimes it takes some time to reflect on these comments. But it makes me proud to realize that indeed, my children have come very far, and this is much due to my efforts- often working through sweat and tears- as a teacher at Alef Bet.