Batmobile

I've always believed that School Counselors should be able to wear roller skates to deal with all of things that the have to deal with during the day. Whether it's the crazed (yet cute) Kindergarten Natives, the 1st grade Juvie-Jailors, or other slice of the day, the school counselor is a busy man. However, school counselor's aren't allowed to wear roller skates to school. This is sad.

There are times when the Batmobile is available. This piece of transportation is artistry in design, it is strong, safe, and armored.It's a hot-rod that must not be used lightly. It is the janitor's dolly.

When an emergency or trying event comes up that necessitates such drastic transportational matters, you can call Alfred (the school janitor), to pick you up in the Bat-Mobile (the janitor's dolly), and transport you at lightning speed (12 miles per hour), to Commissioner Gordon (the school principal). This must not be taken lightly. With great power, comes great responsibility.

Responsibility and the Library Book

It seems as though I am instilling the art and discipline of Responsibility day after day after day after day in these little angels.


"..was that very responsible of you to swing your backpack and hit Timothy in the face?"

".. probably not a very responsible choice to stand up on on the chair in front of your classroom and make those statements to the rest of second grade"

"..your clothes are all wet because you were sitting in the urinal. Doesn't sound very responsible to me".

This morning,  during my rounds, I found a library book laying in the middle of the hallway. It was sitting there, like a poor defenseless victim, just waiting to be trampled on. Some miscreant had lost it haphazardly. My arms folded. It was time for a little chat about responsibility.

I took the book to the library, so that our librarian could analyze the forensic evidence and give me the name of the perp that had discarded the book.

"..that's one of your books..." She replied

Huh?

".. Yea, you checked it out for a Guidance lesson. You must have dropped it" my librarian cohort said.

Oh. Sorry.

"Just be more responsible next time"

Rabies

Chool Counselor: "Brenden, I noticed as you dog was licking me in the parking lot, that he didn't have his collar on. Does he have his rabies vaccinations?"

Brenden: "I don't know, that's not my dog"

Chool Counselor: "Wha?"

Brenden: "That's not my dog. That's my uncle's dog. Petey."

Other Kid: "Petey's crazy. I've seen him eat tires"

Chool Counselor: "So is Petey vaccinated?"

Brenden: "I dunno"

Your Mind Can Go..

Working with elementary kiddos, your sense of reality starts to get just a little bent out of shape, if you let it. Sometimes you see strange things, sometimes you smell strange things, and other times you just loose all sense of reality. 

Case in point , today a 1st grade student told me that she had a pet Cheetah. My brain immediately went to how I can facilitate her bring it to school...

Valentimes Day

That's right. Valentimes day. You're not reading that incorrectly.

One of the tasks that I do as an elementary school counselor is incorrect improper speech and phrasing. It is a hallowed task and my duty to pass on to the next generation respectable industrious speech and eliminating anything reprehensible, sluggish, or lethargic.

The day that I find myself doing this the most is the Friday before Valentine's day.

Rewind a bit. The Friday before Valentine's day is one of the most chaotic of the year. It is akin to the day before Christmas Break, Halloween, or the last day of school. The entire day culminates in a huge party full of sweets, soda, games, and Tom-foolery of the worst kind. It's essentially a kiddy Mardi Gras.

It is also the day that a bunch of chocolate-crazed elementary school students insist on pronouncing Valentine's day in a most shuddering and spine-tingling manner: ValentiMes day. "It's not ValentiMes day, it's ValentiNNNNes day!" I shout for the 45th time down the hallowed halls of education.

The next thing I know, I am on my back, in the middle of a hallway, facing the ceiling. Have a lost my mind? Have I had a heart attack? No, I have spilled some of my coffee and slipped on the floor. A student runs up to me, to see if I am okay.

"Happy ValentiMes Day!" he shouts.

Lazy

Sometimes elementary school counselors get tired. That's when you have kids tie your shoes for you.

Creepy First Grade Hallways

Sometimes first grade hallways, full of  7 and 8 year olds, are.. creepy. I spend about half my life roaming hallways looking for trouble and hearing things that would land someone much older in jail. Murder threats, greed, extortion, libel, slander -- all prevalent in the first grade hallways of an elementary school. Don't believe me? Spend 15 minutes outside the 1st grade bathroom in the morning. It will put hair on your chest. Last week I walked by and heard some young hooligan scream "You'll never catch me alive!". I shrugged it off, emotionally bruised and jaded by the consistent lack of chivalry in that first grade hallway. I have become a tired pedestrian in a world where I am a pawn to a massive conglomerate of manipulative seven year olds.

I really felt it after my latest run-in when I was approached by a stern looking young lad. Our existential conversation on the human conscience and its mechanisms ended with the child stating "I once had a conscience. He's gone now".

I promptly handed over my lunch money.

Creepy First Grade Hallways -- it's basically Gotham City at night.

The Time Of My Life

There are many times throughout the school year - and I will touch on this more later - when the adults in the building have to entertain themselves to stay sane. This might include water gun fights in the hallway, obnoxious e-mails, and riding the janitor's cart down the hallway. I have done all of these and proud to say that I am perfectly sane.

One of these instances of self-fulfillment came recently during our Student Fun Day. Student Fun Day - and I will touch more on this later - is day in itself that deserves it's own post, but during this day the Gym teacher and I (the only men in the building) are assigned "Dance Party" as our station for the day. The operations at this post generally requires you to play hours and hours of loud pop music in the gym, while watching to make sure that students don't kill themselves our others while dancing kiddie-rave style. It's wonderful.

No. It really is. Why? because when the kids are at lunch and not in there dancing to the likes of Ke$ha, Demi Lovato, and Bieber, the adults are jamming to the hits 1970's, 80's, & 90's. Teachers at our school actually look forward to Student Fun Day so that they can come dance their pants off while the students are off at lunch. Hey, we have to stay sane.

This last's years Fun Day with the teachers culminated with an ode to the '87 classic "Time of My Life" and the dance the Baby and Johnny shared with the lift you see above. The dance moves were going great when I took a risk ---  "Catch me!" I shouted to the gym teacher from across the gym. "Ok!" he spontateously replied. Then I did it. I really did it. With the grace of an overweight 29 year old man, in front of all of my respected cohorts (no doubt cheering me on), I leaped, landing horizontally into the arms of the Gym teacher. It was a perfect 10. Baby couldn't have done it better. The teachers cheered and I was king of the moment. I was at my peak. Then the bell rang and lunch was over.

The Only Man

I don't know if I've mentioned this much, but being the only man in the school (besides the gym teacher, but who counts that?), has both its positives and negatives. There are days when my ego is completely stroked because I am the only male in the school an there are days when I am completely laid bare.. because I am the only male in the school.

Some days, being the only male in an elementary school is like shooting fish in a barrel. Being the best looking guy for miles is great. Being the "male role model" for every single student in the school can be an uplifting thing. Being the strongest person is pretty cool too.

You know what's not cool about being the only male in the school? Being Santa Claus. That's right, I will be Santa Claus this Christmas and over the period of two days, I will have over 400 children sitting on my lap, spilling their guts about what they want for Christmas. Why? Because I am the only male. The only one that can accomplish this feat.

Here comes Santa Claus.

Indiana Jones

Every once in awhile, educators find themselves in situations where there are simply... no words. But, there are movie lines. Although lost on many elementary-aged pupils, they are simply dynamite when used  appropriately. 

For example,

When leaving a room: "I'll be back"

When working on teamwork: "The needs of the many outweigh the needs of thew few or the one"

During gym class: "There's no crying in baseball"

When being challenged: "Go ahead, make my day"

When payment for a field trip arrives: "Show me the money"

..and my favorite line of late, from Indiana Jones & the Last Crusade..

When surprising a student who thinks they are getting away with murder: 

"I'm like a bad penny, I always turn up."

Jealousy

Every once in awhile, a teacher finds him or herself jealous about something that another has. Perhaps another teacher had some wild/crazy summer experience, receives a stipend for ridiculously easy task, or simply has that one special student that surpasses them all. That is teacher jealousy. It's fairly succinct.

Rarely, we are jealous for other reasons.

It is just not wise to be jealous.

Fast forward to this afternoon, I sat at the desk of principal, hob-knobing about the our daily elementary adventures with one-uppers, juvie-jailers, and the like, when she hits me with her latest story-of-the-day. I don't remember much, other than it was hilarious. What I remember most is what happened next.

"..That's great" I replied. "You need to keep that story in the book that you will write some day. It seriously, a great story. Seriously. I mean it.".

"..Ohh, that story? It's nothing. Wouldn't even crack my Top 50." she stated.

"Huh." I came back plainly. Inside, jealousy and albeit -anger- stirred up like a blazing inferno. Unbelievable. 

I felt a bit shamed. Here she was, with better stories than me. That the likes of mine wouldn't crack a Top 50. I was more than hurt, I was jealous. I wanted her stories. I don't care about my paltry salary, my sore feet, or the fifteen times that I have been on antibiotics this year. I want those stories! 

It is just not wise to be jealous.