32 Third Graders and One Class Bunny

by Phillip Done

  “How about ‘Justin needs to exhibit better table manners at lunch’?” she said.

  “How about ‘Justin should hold a mirror when he eats and see what he looks like’?” I laughed.

  “Phil!” she groaned.

  “OK, OK. Give it to me. I’ll fix it,” I said. And she left.

  Later in the day, I walked into Cathy’s office and handed her Justin’s report. “It’s the best I could do,” I said.

  She read it: “Justin should never sit across from anyone at mealtimes.”

  I smiled. “What do you think?”

  She threw her hands up and said, “You’re hopeless. I give up! Just leave it the way you originally had it. But if Justin’s parents call me, I’m sending them to you!”

  Why?

  Why can kids say, “Jinks, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten—you owe me a Coke,” in less than .05 seconds but take three hours to tell me what eight times seven is?

  Why will kids ask me ten times when recess is but then stay in for the whole break organizing all the markers and cleaning the whiteboard with too much whiteboard spray?

  Why is the gumball machine in the museum lobby more interesting than the Van Gogh on loan from the Met?

  Why don’t we grade A, B, C, D, and E?

  Why do kids forget where to indent in a letter but remember the name of my guinea pig I had when I was in third grade, and why my dad washed my mouth out with soap when I was eight?

  Why do kids write “THE END” so big?

  Why do kids know precisely how many days, hours, and minutes are left till their birthdays but still ask, “When’s lunch?”

  Why do kids complain when they have to run in PE, but can run around the neighborhood for three straight hours while wearing a refrigerator box on Halloween night?

  Why do the pistols in my class always gravitate toward each other like magnets?

  Why do they notice the shaving cream in my ears this morning but not see the muddy footprints going all the way to their desks?

  Why do kids choose to play band instruments that are similar to their own personalities?

  Why is it that they can’t figure out how to put their homework into their three-ring binders, but when I can’t get the VCR to work, they can fix it?

  Why can’t kids remember to bring back their field trip notes, but can remember to bring the whoopie cushion and the plastic dog poop and the plastic rat on April Fool’s Day?

  Why are there so many holes in the pencil sharpener?

  Why is it that kids can’t see that there are no periods or capitals in their four-page story but notice that my socks do not match this morning?

  Why do all the animals decide it’s time to make babies when we visit the zoo?

  Why, when there are 20,000 books in the library, do they just want I Spy?

  Why can’t kids tell me twelve minus nine, when they can figure out exactly how old I am in less than two seconds when I tell them the year I was born?

  Why do my students just stare at me and say nothing when they run into me in the supermarket?

  Why do kids not hear the directions I have already repeated five times, but hear every word I just whispered to the librarian about why I have a headache this morning?

  Halloween

  Do you know which question teachers are most commonly asked? I will give you a clue. Students begin asking this question around the first week of school and keep asking it all the way up to the end of October. Can you guess what it is? I will tell you. The most commonly asked question of teachers is “What are you going to be for Halloween?”

  This year I have already been asked the question seventy-five times. I counted. Fifty of those times I was asked by Joey.

  My answer is always the same. “It’s a surprise.” I smile. But of course when I say this, I am lying. I really do not have the foggiest idea what I am going to be. In fact, I never know what I am going to be till the night before Halloween, when I empty my closet out onto my bed and try to put a costume together out of dress shirts and a bathrobe and ties.

  This year, Michael was the first to run in on Halloween Day.

  “Mr. Done, when can we put our costumes on?” Michael shouted.

  “After lunch.”

  “When’s that?”

  “In three hours.”

  “Please can we put our costumes on?”

  “No, Michael. You have to wait.”

  “Till when?”

  “After lunch.”

  “Then can we put our costumes on?”

  “Yes.”

  “When’s lunch?”

  “In three hours.”

  “But some kids have their costumes on already.”

  “Maybe so, but we’re waiting.”

  “Till when?”

  “After lunch.”

  “Then can we put our costumes on?”

  “Yes.”

  “When’s lunch?”

  This Halloween I had bathroom duty. It was my job to stand in a small square space with all the third grade boys in the whole school and make sure nobody turned off the lights while they sprayed their hair green, covered their cheeks with Dracula blood, and put on their ninja and Grim Reaper masks.

  As we waited on the blacktop for the parade to begin, I broke up sword fights, confiscated spears, and played Guess Who Is Under the Mask with all the ninjas and Grim Reapers.

  Finally, the “Monster Mash” tape started playing through the loudspeakers and the parade began. I marched with Justin and waved to all the mommies while they pointed at me and laughed, and tried to figure out how to use their new digital cameras.

  “Mr. Done, what are you supposed to be?” Erika’s mom, holding her video camera, screamed from the sidelines.

  “A tired teacher,” I answered.

  “Weren’t you that last year?”

  “I was tired then too.”

  After the parade, it was time for the big party. Stephen and Brian ate their cupcakes with Dracula teeth in their mouths. Isabel and Melanie used seventeen rolls of toilet paper to win Wrap Up the Teacher Like a Mummy. And I bobbed for apples right after Joey sneezed in the water.

  Then Mrs. Stewart and Mrs. Turner, my room moms, had everyone get into teams of four to play Frankenstein Makeup, and I watched my whole class paint each other’s faces with peanut butter and mayonnaise and ketchup and toothpaste and shaving cream and jelly to create that authentic Frankenstein look. I watched the carpet get that authentic Frankenstein look too.

  Frankly, I’d take three Christmas parties and four Easters any day for one Halloween. Whoever thought that stuffing millions of children with candy, then sticking them in costumes and putting spears in their hands all on the same day was a good idea?

  Is it OK to call in sick on Halloween? Is it wrong to leave Frankenstein Makeup for your sub? Teachers catch colds in October, too, right?

  Teacher Speeches

  All teachers have their standard speeches that they give during the year. Last year I started cataloging mine.

  Sometimes I feel like a broken record. It would be so much easier if I could just shout out the number of the speech. For example, if I shouted, “Forty-seven!” they would know that they may get a drink. If I yelled, “Fifty-six!” they would know that they may go to the library. If I screamed, “Three seventy-three!” they would know that they may not take the bunny outside in the rain. It would save so much time.

  Following are the speeches I give most often during the year.

  Speech 237—The Field Trip Speech

  “Today we are going on a field trip. You are all representatives of your school. Please behave. Please do not put your hands out of the windows of the bus and try to fly. Please do not try to make every truck that passes by honk. Please do not sing the complete ‘One Hundred Bottles of Beer on the Wall.’ Please remember that someone is driving your vehicle. Please remember that your driver needs the volume in the car to be under five hundred decibels in order to concentrate.
”

  Speech 28—The Don’t Touch Speech

  “Do not touch anything in the museum. Who did not hear me? Let’s all say it together, ‘We will not touch anything in the museum.’ Good.”

  Speech 29—The Come Stand by Me Speech

  “I told you not to touch anything in the museum! Come stand by me.”

  Speech 45—The Stop Talking Speech

  “Excuse me, but I do not see a teapot on your desk. I don’t see any cucumber sandwiches or scones. This is not a tea party. Now please stop talking, and get back to work.”

  Speech 38—The Don’t Do It Just Because She Said to Speech

  “If she told you to jump off the Golden Gate Bridge, would you do that too?”

  Speech 16—The Report Card Speech

  “Grades do not matter. I do not care if you get straight Fs. What matters is that you are trying your best.”

  Speech 17—The Do Your Best Speech

  “Is this your best work? No, it is not. Do you want a bad grade on your report card?”

  Speech 178—The Homework Speech

  “There are only three things you have to do in life: 1) pay your taxes, 2) die, and 3) do your homework. Understand?”

  Speech 479—The Make Mistakes Speech

  “Do not say ‘Sorry’ when you make a mistake. Never say ‘Sorry’ if you make a mistake. I want you to make mistakes. If you make mistakes, then I have something to teach you. And if I have something to teach you, then I keep my job. And if I have a job, then I can buy new ties at J. C. Penney.”

  Speech 65—The Get It Finished Speech

  “You have a zero in the gradebook. Do you know what that means? If you do not finish your book report, the zero turns into a bad grade, and if you get a lot of bad grades, you do not go to fourth grade, and if you do not go to fourth grade, you do not go on to fifth grade, and if you do not finish fifth grade, they will not let you into college, and if you do not go to college, you will not get a job. And if you do not get a job, you cannot buy dog food. So if you want a dog someday, do your book report!”

  Speech 258—The Sit on the Bench Speech

  “How would you like it if I called you names? I don’t want to ever hear you saying bad words again. Now say you’re sorry. Then go sit down on the bench, and don’t get up till I say you can.”

  Speech 259—Oops

  “Sorry. I forgot you were on the bench. You can go back to class now.”

  Storytime

  Storytime is my favorite part of the day. Every day after lunch, I love to gather my students around me on the carpet and read to them.

  One day I started reading one of my all-time favorite books, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. I have read it a dozen times before and know almost every line by heart. If I do say so myself, the part of Edward Hyde is one of my better roles.

  When the children were all seated around me, I opened the book slowly and began reading in a low whisper. I was Vincent Price. The children sat silent. Sarah’s eyes were glued on me. Kenny stopped fidgeting with his shoelace. James stopped playing with the Velcro on his sneaker. Natalie stopped braiding Nicole’s hair.

  As the story progressed, I continued to speak in low, haunting tones, gradually intensifying my speech for the best dramatic effect. Uta Hagen would have been proud.

  Emily grabbed Amanda’s arm. Justin did not know he was holding my shoe. It was going great. They were riveted by my performance.

  I was approaching my favorite scene, the part where Edward Hyde takes his first sip of the magic drug that transforms him into Henry Jekyll. The children stared at my hand as I pretended to put three spoonfuls of the magic powder into a glass.

  “There,” I whispered in a scratchy voice. “It is complete.”

  Justin shivered.

  I looked down at the children and laughed an evil laugh. I was Boris Karloff.

  “Now,” I continued in a heavy voice, “I must drink the magic drug.”

  I stood up slowly from my chair and gave an evil grin. The children leaned back. They stared at the imaginary glass in my hands as I lifted the smoking, blood-red liquid above my head. I looked down at the children one last time. I was John Barrymore. Slowly, I put the glass to my lips.

  Suddenly a loud sound exploded from the center of the carpet. The room erupted with laughter. Peter pointed at Sarah. Justin held his nose.

  “I didn’t know girls could fart!” Justin shouted.

  I fell back into my chair. I could not go on. My greatest theatrical moment ruined by a toot.

  From then on, I decided, storytime would be before lunch.

  Ronny

  The other day after lunch, I was listening to Ronny read. As usual, he didn’t want to. Today we began a new book together. About halfway through, Ronny looked up at me and asked, “Mr. Done, what’s your favorite word?”

  I stared at him.

  “You know something, Ronny,” I said, “nobody’s ever asked me that before. I never thought about it.”

  Ronny went back to his book. While he read, I thought about his question.

  I have a favorite restaurant and ice cream and movie and book. So why don’t I have a favorite word?

  Words are my life. All day long I preach that explained and screamed and whispered are better than boring old said, and wine and burgundy and garnet are better than plain old red. The more I thought about it, the more I knew I needed to pick a favorite word. In fact, every teacher should have one.

  But how does one go about picking a favorite from so many? Is it as simple as picking something I love—like pizza, or history, or traveling, or Gershwin? Maybe it just needs to sound nice—like retirement.

  I asked Ronny for help. “Ronny, what is your favorite word?”

  “Whatchamacallit,” he replied.

  I smiled. “That is a mighty fine word,” I said. “I like it.”

  “You can’t have it,” said Ronny. “It’s my word. You have to have your own favorite word.”

  This was not going to be easy, I thought.

  Well, I certainly knew what words it would not be. It would not be treadmill or diet. It might be cruise, or summer, or sabbatical.

  I asked Ronny if I may have two favorite words.

  He said yes.

  Bus duty was definitely out. So was yard duty. It could be mashed potatoes or sleeping in. Cleaning lady and beef Stroganoff and Justin’s absent sounded good too. Oh, it was so hard to choose.

  After a couple of minutes, Ronny finished reading, closed his book, and looked up at me.

  “Mr. Done?” he said.

  “Yes, Ronny?”

  He smiled. “I like reading now,” he said.

  I leaned in. “Ronny, may I have four favorite words?”

  “Uh-huh,” he said.

  “I just heard you say them.”

  The Happy Birthday Play

  Every month I have the exact same conversation with my students. In fact, I have had the following conversation so many times that I have the script completely memorized.

  Setting: My classroom

  Characters (in order of appearance):

  Student

  Teacher

  Classmates

  SCENE ONE

  STUDENT: (Enters classroom carrying big white box. Lays box on my desk.) Hi, Mr. Done. My mom sent in treats for my birthday. When can we eat them?

  TEACHER: (sarcastic) On the last day of school!

  STUDENT: Come on! When?

  TEACHER: OK, OK. At the end of the day.

  STUDENT: (begging) Can we have them now? Please?

  TEACHER: No.

  STUDENT: (continues begging) Please!

  TEACHER: (firmly) No!

  STUDENT: (whining) Why not?

  TEACHER: (looks at student) Do you know what happens to little boys and girls when they eat cupcakes?

  STUDENT: What?

  TEACHER: (smiles sarcastically) They do not sit in their chairs. That’s what. They do not stop talking. They think they are kites and begin to fly a
round the room.

  STUDENT: We’ll be good. Promise!

  TEACHER: (with drama) Ha! Kites do not listen to the teacher. Kites do not like to do math. Do you know why your mom dropped you off today and left immediately?

  STUDENT: Why?

  TEACHER: (leans in to student) Because she also knows what will happen to you after you eat your cupcake. (Rest of class crosses their hands on their desks and sits motionless. Teacher looks at students.) Don’t think for a second that you can all sit there like sweet little angels and think I’ll change my mind. (Looks at box. Looks back at student.) What kind of cupcakes are they?

  STUDENT: Chocolate with chocolate frosting and chocolate sprinkles. You can have two.

  TEACHER: (Teacher looks around room. No one moves. Teacher looks at box. Teacher looks around room again.) Oh … all right.

  CLASSMATES: (loudly) Yeah!

  STUDENT: Thanks, Mr. Done. Why did you change your mind?

  TEACHER: I’d rather eat cupcakes than do math too.

  When to Stop Teaching

  This November I got a student teacher. Her name is Amy. She is twenty-two. The other day Amy gave her very first lesson in front of the class. Everything was going along nicely until a spider crawled across Katie’s desk. Suddenly Katie jumped onto her chair and started screaming. Everyone ran over to Katie’s desk to see the spider. When they saw the spider (which was three millimeters long), they all ran away, yelling and jumping onto their chairs and desks.

  Amy stopped teaching and looked over at me with a what-do-I-do-now look. She must have missed this lesson in Teacher School, I thought. Or perhaps they don’t teach this in Teacher School anymore. So I decided to make a list of instructions for Amy and anyone else who needs them.

  The following things are guaranteed to bring any lesson to a grinding halt. If you happen to encounter any of these surprises while you are teaching, follow the directions below. If you are a student teacher, you have permission to photocopy these pages.