Loving Kindness

Day 80

Wednesday

“Did you see the new boy?” Arabella asked me mid-worksheet in the middle of practicing the short ‘o’ sound.

“No! I didn’t know there was a new boy.” I replied.

“Well, there is, in 6th grade B and all the girls are all over him. And he’s goth.” She haughtily informed me.

“Really? Goth? Wow.” I said before she cut in,

“Yes, he’s from Barcelona.”

“And do you like him?’ I inquired.

“Oh well, I don’t know, he’s goth.” (And Arabella is a sweet British 6th grader).

And that was that. I knew that there was a strange energy in the school today. Everyone was unusually chatty and excited. There was a new boy. All my little country bumpkin kids couldn’t believe they’d got a classmate from the big city, Barça.

Heading off to 6th grade B right after I was excited to meet the new student, as I’ve always felt an unusual affinity for Barcelona. I didn’t even have to try and find him. The minute I walked in I could spot him. Sporting a fashion hair cut, with a huge swath of hair swept across his baby face hiding rebellious brown eyes. I quickly found out as almost all of the girls tried to introduce him at once that his name was Antonio. I laughed and welcomed him to class, knowing that we’d get nothing done. 11 pairs of eyes were locked in on that poor boy, all smitten. And I could only chuckle to myself as I asked them to open their activity books to correct their homework; I so easily remembered how it felt to have a new kid at school, such excitement at having the quotidian social network thrown askew. But I got a funny new perspective as a teacher this time around. No longer was my main concern his degree of cute-ness, but rather, would he make my hour in English hellish or amicable. To my great luck he spoke little English, which made him gun-shy about speaking up or acting out. Which meant the rest of the class was a bit more inclined to be productive.

Trading the new boy for the slow boy I went to 4th grade where there is the most endearing boy, Juanfro, who is slightly autistic and mentally challenged (is that is the going P.C term?) in Spain they integrate all of the children, so the special needs children are seated next to the valedictorian, regardless of their learning styles or inability to follow the material. And so Juanfro is seated in the front row, with a daydreamer smile painted on his face as he rocks, waiting for someone to notice him and direct him to an activity. And so today, while the class was taking a test, Juanfro, who never takes the tests, was pulled up to the teacher’s desk so Gema could show him his coloring activity. The scene that followed almost made me cry. A quick preface – most of the special needs children are treated terribly, mocked by their classmates and berated by their teachers.

Gema had sketched a popular cartoon character and had written down the colors his different body parts were to be colored in English. As she was reviewing the cartoon, in such a gentle manner, sweetly asking, “Juanfro, look at his big ears. What color are his ears?” And he would tap the page, caressing the ears, begging the tickle to recall the secret color of the ears. Gema had written the word ‘red’ in the ears and she asked him again, “Juanfro, look at his big ears (and she touches his ears) what color are his ears? What color is red?” And behind Gema sits Sapo, a small boy who’s more interested in Gema and Juanfro than the test. He waves a red crayon to help Juanfro guess what red means. Juanfro catches the signal wave and giggles “Rojo! (red)” “Good Juanfro, good! The ears are red, rojo. Now look at his big feet, what color are his feet?” And again Sapo waves a bright blue crayon and Juanfro eagerly shouts “Blue!” “Yes Juanfro yes! Blue! Now look at his hands, what color are his hands?” A yellow crayon hails his attention floating over Gema’s head and Juanfro jumps up, “yellow!” And Gema is elated, “Yes very very good! Yellow!” By now more eyes have departed from the test page and wandered up the scene at the front of the class, stifled giggles peppered the room as Sapo waved the crayon for Juanfro. Teacher’s say they have eyes in the back of their head, so I’m sure Gema knew Sapo was acting as a secret aide, but she let it be and let Juanfro light up with joy at guessing all the colors and Sapo just smiled and nodded his head in encouragement. I was filled with so much hope in humanity in that moment. I said that I believe in the age of innocence, and I do, but more than that, I believe in the constancy of kindness. It’s in all my students; I just love when it rises to the occasion. And what’s more, it was the random act of kindness that made me melt. Isn’t it true, the unexpected, unsolicited, freely given kindness of another is the most precious gift one can receive. Organic grace is one of the small miracles of sociality.

Loving kindness….how to put that in a lesson plan?