Oh Delores.....
I gave a brief introduction to Delores in my last post, but I'll give you more insight now. For starters, I'm not a very large person, but in a classroom of 7-year-olds I tend to be significantly bigger... that is until Wednesday.
As the school day begins and the students are filtering in, I begin observing, trying to figure out who my strongest students will be and of course trying to determine who's going to give me fits. Then I see her, a girl abnormally tall for second grade, even tall for fourth grade, which happens to be the highest grade in the school. School hasn't really started yet, so I assume that she's the older sister of one of my students and will be leaving when class starts. To my surprise she sticks around, and with her bleach-blonde hair, dark roots exposed, she's pushing other students out of her way to hang up her coat and backpack. Alright, she's in my class, but she must've been retained a couple or five years. Nope, seven-years-old, and pound for pound she's every bit the presence in the classroom that I am, if not a little more, and that's just speaking in terms of size. Behavior is quite another story, and Delores is more of a presence than myself, the regular classroom teacher, and 16 other students.
As the day progressed I couldn't believe what I was seeing. Delores has the attitude of the recent tabloid-plastered Britany caged within the body of a second grader. The first thing I noticed during class was a brief exchange of words between her and another student. Delores was doing something she wasn't to be doing and the other student felt it her duty to inform her. Quite obviously Delores doesn't like being told "no," as I'm also since discovered, and marched over to the desk of this student and told her she needed to mind her own business and not worry about what she was doing. When the other student attempted to respond, Delores promptly snapped her fingers, made a circle with her hips and shoulders in a well-rehearsed motion, and raised her palm to the girl's face, telling her to "talk to the hand because the ears ain't listenin''"
My jaw dropped, if not literally, I was thinking it in my mind. Did I just see that? Is this a dream? Am I really in an 8th grade class??? Nope, still in 2nd grade, and I really did just see that. How bizarre. Granted, I've been in a few different classrooms and I've dealt with my fair share of behavior problems as a substitute; however, I've never seen a diva like this any younger than 5th grade.
My first run-in with Delores was in the library, later this same day. The library is a small 15x15 room, no larger than a restroom, in which the walls are lined with bookshelves. Even having a small class of 17 students, space was limited. Delores decided she was going to give us all a preview of her American Idol routine. This was not the appropriate time or place for dancing or singing, so I felt it necessary to kindly ask her to stop. Her response included a familiar hip and shoulder swiveling, finger snapping, with a head wiggle, hands to the hips, and "Excuuuuse Me???" You heard me! The library isn't the place for dancing and singing. Dumbfounded, I kindly repeat myself if, in case, in the moment she was so caught up in the performance that she just didn't hear me, but no, that wasn't it. Then I get to "talk to the hand..." For a split second I felt myself taking on her attitude and wanted to respond with my own, much less rehearsed, hip, shoulder, and head swivelin' finger snaps. I refrained.
With great relief to the classroom teacher, Delores was absent on Thursday. Apparently the students were rather excited. On Friday when another Thursday absentee returned to school, a classmate informed her that she shouldn't have missed school yesterday because Delores wasn't there. The girl was visibly disappointed that she had spent the day at home for whatever ailment, missing a day of peace and quiet at school in Delores's absence.
The final Delores incident I'll leave you with for the weekend occurred on Friday. As the students returned to the classroom after lunch, they were to get their coats to go outside for recess. The classroom rule for the coat closet is that no more than three students can be in there at one time. One student is assigned the job of monitoring the entryway while the others stand in line awaiting their turn. It appears as though Delores doesn't feel this rule applies to her either because she again pushed her way into the already full closet grabbed her coat and put it on in the crammed space, elbowing others in the process. When she was finished she pushed her way out, glaring at the students in line, telling them to "MOOOVE!" As she exited the classroom, one of the other students turned to me and said, "Ms. Miller, I don't know if you've noticed yet or not, but Delores isn't very nice. No one else really likes her because she's so mean. Today she told us all we were losers." So I fight off all the things I really wanted to say about how it would be hard not to notice or aiding in plotting revenge. I searched the "teacher-y" things to say and responded with, "Sometimes in life we are forced to deal with people who aren't very nice, but we just have to try our very best to be nice to people who aren't very nice to us." I felt like someone from an afterschool special or one of those cheesy public service announcements.
At least there aren't 17 Delores in the class. It might actually be an interesting eight weeks. I can't say that I'm not looking forward to it, and although it was a peaceful classroom on Thursday, I was somewhat disappointed and much less entertained.
As the school day begins and the students are filtering in, I begin observing, trying to figure out who my strongest students will be and of course trying to determine who's going to give me fits. Then I see her, a girl abnormally tall for second grade, even tall for fourth grade, which happens to be the highest grade in the school. School hasn't really started yet, so I assume that she's the older sister of one of my students and will be leaving when class starts. To my surprise she sticks around, and with her bleach-blonde hair, dark roots exposed, she's pushing other students out of her way to hang up her coat and backpack. Alright, she's in my class, but she must've been retained a couple or five years. Nope, seven-years-old, and pound for pound she's every bit the presence in the classroom that I am, if not a little more, and that's just speaking in terms of size. Behavior is quite another story, and Delores is more of a presence than myself, the regular classroom teacher, and 16 other students.
As the day progressed I couldn't believe what I was seeing. Delores has the attitude of the recent tabloid-plastered Britany caged within the body of a second grader. The first thing I noticed during class was a brief exchange of words between her and another student. Delores was doing something she wasn't to be doing and the other student felt it her duty to inform her. Quite obviously Delores doesn't like being told "no," as I'm also since discovered, and marched over to the desk of this student and told her she needed to mind her own business and not worry about what she was doing. When the other student attempted to respond, Delores promptly snapped her fingers, made a circle with her hips and shoulders in a well-rehearsed motion, and raised her palm to the girl's face, telling her to "talk to the hand because the ears ain't listenin''"
My jaw dropped, if not literally, I was thinking it in my mind. Did I just see that? Is this a dream? Am I really in an 8th grade class??? Nope, still in 2nd grade, and I really did just see that. How bizarre. Granted, I've been in a few different classrooms and I've dealt with my fair share of behavior problems as a substitute; however, I've never seen a diva like this any younger than 5th grade.
My first run-in with Delores was in the library, later this same day. The library is a small 15x15 room, no larger than a restroom, in which the walls are lined with bookshelves. Even having a small class of 17 students, space was limited. Delores decided she was going to give us all a preview of her American Idol routine. This was not the appropriate time or place for dancing or singing, so I felt it necessary to kindly ask her to stop. Her response included a familiar hip and shoulder swiveling, finger snapping, with a head wiggle, hands to the hips, and "Excuuuuse Me???" You heard me! The library isn't the place for dancing and singing. Dumbfounded, I kindly repeat myself if, in case, in the moment she was so caught up in the performance that she just didn't hear me, but no, that wasn't it. Then I get to "talk to the hand..." For a split second I felt myself taking on her attitude and wanted to respond with my own, much less rehearsed, hip, shoulder, and head swivelin' finger snaps. I refrained.
With great relief to the classroom teacher, Delores was absent on Thursday. Apparently the students were rather excited. On Friday when another Thursday absentee returned to school, a classmate informed her that she shouldn't have missed school yesterday because Delores wasn't there. The girl was visibly disappointed that she had spent the day at home for whatever ailment, missing a day of peace and quiet at school in Delores's absence.
The final Delores incident I'll leave you with for the weekend occurred on Friday. As the students returned to the classroom after lunch, they were to get their coats to go outside for recess. The classroom rule for the coat closet is that no more than three students can be in there at one time. One student is assigned the job of monitoring the entryway while the others stand in line awaiting their turn. It appears as though Delores doesn't feel this rule applies to her either because she again pushed her way into the already full closet grabbed her coat and put it on in the crammed space, elbowing others in the process. When she was finished she pushed her way out, glaring at the students in line, telling them to "MOOOVE!" As she exited the classroom, one of the other students turned to me and said, "Ms. Miller, I don't know if you've noticed yet or not, but Delores isn't very nice. No one else really likes her because she's so mean. Today she told us all we were losers." So I fight off all the things I really wanted to say about how it would be hard not to notice or aiding in plotting revenge. I searched the "teacher-y" things to say and responded with, "Sometimes in life we are forced to deal with people who aren't very nice, but we just have to try our very best to be nice to people who aren't very nice to us." I felt like someone from an afterschool special or one of those cheesy public service announcements.
At least there aren't 17 Delores in the class. It might actually be an interesting eight weeks. I can't say that I'm not looking forward to it, and although it was a peaceful classroom on Thursday, I was somewhat disappointed and much less entertained.
posted by Misty at
8:41 AM
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