Aaaiiiieeeeeeeeeee!
The shriek comes at me from the corner of my ear and I turn into it.
There’s a crew of fifth graders huddled around, cautiously staring at the ground. At first I don’t see anything against the multicolored rubber surface.
What’s up?
I’m not normally on the playground during this recess, it’s a bit of a new world for me and the novelty is making it a ton of fun.
I’ve been busy.
A bounce on the trampoline, leading my group of hangers on through a 1-minute (plus) dead hang, and a full stretching routine with a couple friends.
Can we stretch too?
They asked, as kids do.
Sure!
These young humans really don’t need much more to feel safe and looked after, apart from seeing them. Really seeing them.
At the end of the day, teaching is about being a tall person who has chosen to spend the day with kids. Even that seemingly low bar, often taken for granted in this work, goes a long way.
They are delightful, gracious young souls who yearn to connect, to play, to share.
As teachers we find ourselves stretched thin, caught between, pulled every which way.
And that tests our patience, to the point where it’s hard to be truly present. To be available,
patient,
and kind.
But we do.
Because they are worth it.
And when we make that extra effort, it comes back our way and then some.
There’s a creepy bug over here! We think it’s poisonous!
Nah
I scoff.
But when I amble over to save the day, a colleague points out that, indeed, the hairy caterpillar is toxic to the touch, leaving a bitter itchiness when touched.
It’s so creepy!
They proclaim.
Well, to be clear, the expression ‘creepy’ literally comes from creep, which is exactly what this l’il fella is doing right now
Somebody find a stick!
One of the girls returns seconds later with a meter stick. I wonder if the hairs might get themselves stuck on it, depositing an uncomfortable present for a future measuring 5th grader.
She gently coaxes the critter onto the end
and of course, three kids shriek as she does so.
The brain doesn’t always like novelty
but they’re engaged.
Take it over to the fence and drop it off, gently!
She’s off, balancing it through the playground, past a range of curious stares
She offers freedom to this hairy slinky, shaking it off, off, off. Shaking it off, off, off.
She returns to the playground resplendent in joy
and a hero to her friends.
Get Up Eight 
Great weaving up events and reflections. The whole scene came to life through your details. Loved that the caterpillar had a rescuer!
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“These young humans really don’t need much more to feel safe and looked after, apart from seeing them. Really seeing them.” Truth.
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The description of the caterpillar reminds me of the ones that lived on our Juicy Guava tree, years ago. Your student is a risk-taker, daringly getting the caterpillar on the stick to discard it. We were so scared of the tiny hairy creatures. They put us off climbing the tree and trying to get the fruits using a long stick.
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The creepy caterpillar rescue is a wonderful small moment, but I’m grateful you cued up this with these lines, which are oh-so true right now, and hit me as a reminder of the power of being present as the REAL work of teaching, despite so so so many pushes to center other distractions. I know it – relationships first. And this story is proof positive.
And that tests our patience, to the point where it’s hard to be truly present. To be available,
patient,
and kind.
But we do.
Because they are worth it.
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