It was even harder to understand the kindergartners than usual. The kids were always talking, but never clearly to an older adult like me, and so I barely understood what was happening. Manic energy! Everybody usually runs wherever they go, but at least half the kids chose to sit down on Friday afternoon. I noticed one of the other teaching assistants was sitting down and gathering the kids to her, and maybe that's where the idea came from.
One girl told me, "You must tell me where to go." She was apparently a robot and needed very specific instructions in order to pass among obstacles in a classroom, in order to pass through a door into the playground. So, I needed to give her exacting instructions and do some programming there. Another girl was sitting listlessly on the concrete and nursing her hand. There was maybe some swelling there, but not extreme pain. She didn't seem interested in running around, but rather in being the first to line up for "car line." I worried about her. Tired, and too quiet.
A boy walked up and announced, "I'm going to be a kindergartner next year!" I replied, "Oh, so you're graduating from TK? Congratulations!" I was a bit alarmed when several girls came over said one of the other girls was eating plastic. I went over to investigate, but what she was trying to do was cut into a plastic juice box, in order to - I don't know, maybe get a few remaining drops. I distracted them by practicing a turkey gobble I perfected a few years ago. The kids seemed skeptical about my gobble and responded by trying to punch my cheeks. A boy came over and insisted that I sit down with him. He offered a new treat I hadn't seen before - barbeque-flavored, jerky-like chicken cubes. I helped some of the other kids open snack packages.
I ran over to investigate why a boy was crying. He was blocking a tubular passage in the playground equipment. It was hard to understand him. He said one of the other boys was rolling up his coloring paper, but all I could see was that he was the one rolling up his own coloring paper. A mystery.
Two kids were playing roles of some sort. "I'm Horsey, and this is Cutie," a girl announced, pointing to her friend. Then, a long-running squabble erupted between two other kids. A girl narrowed her eyes and relentlessly pursued her nemesis around the playground, until the other kid started crying. I went over to reassure the other kid. "Look, apologize," I told the girl. "You're scaring him." The girl looked at me, narrowed her eyes again, and replied, "She's a girl." I was surprised - the kid always has a hoodie on and so I didn't realize.
Then the kids began playing another game. They gathered behind me, pulled on my shirt's tail, and hid from my view. As I turned to scan the horizon, they shifted quickly so as to remain invisible. I had an entire train of kids behind me. Kids seemingly vanished in front of me, yet every time I turned, I heard shuffling and giggles behind me.
And so it went, for an hour.
At the end of the school day, I saw one of the kindergartners leave school with her mom. Surprisingly, ten minutes later, when I was leaving school, the mom and girl returned. Maybe they accidentally left something behind that they needed to retrieve. The girl waved at me, and I replied, "Time to go to school!" The girl said "NO!" I repeated, "Time to go to school!" The girl smiled, dropped her mom's hand, and again shouted "NOOO!"
The last thing I saw Friday afternoon was a crow fly past, with a barbeque-flavored, jerky-like chicken cube in its mouth. Score!
