My elementary music classroom was off of the cafeteria, kind of away from the other classrooms in the building. It was later in the day, so the cafeteria was empty. In comes one of my kindergarten music classes! They all come in quietly and sit in their circle on the floor in excited anticipation of what today's music class is going to entail.
Just when I think they are all seated and the teacher exits the room, in straggles the last student in the line. He's adorable in his black leather jacket with big silver zippers all over it and a wide collar. His dark hair is spiked straight up in the air and his sweet little face houses big blue eyes with thick dark lashes. His tiny baby teeth are white when he grins and I love it when I see them flash when he's singing...he loves to sing...he loves music...and, he loves me. There is usually at least one moment during music class when he crawls up onto my lap for a quick hug.
I greet him as he slowly saunters into the classroom and is walking around the back of the circle of kiddos. I've already taken my seat at the head of the circle to sing our greeting when I notice that "Buddy" (not his real name) is stopping behind each student and quietly whispering something to every single child. I quickly make out the words he is whispering..."mother fu _ _ _ r"! Now, Buddy, at the ripe old age of 5 was not a stranger to the "office". He was often in trouble for various infractions but I just couldn't help myself...he had stolen my heart. Without hesitation, I stood up and said, "Buddy, you realize what we have to do now, don't you??" I said this as I crossed over to him and held my hand out to him...he quietly said "yeah."
As he looked up at me with those big blue eyes, he wrapped his arms around my legs in a bear hug, then stepped back and grabbed my hand as his head and shoulders immediately slumped as if he just couldn't bear anymore disappointment. I hit the call button on the wall and asked for someone to meet me in the cafeteria since there was no one to cover my class while I walked him to the office.
The principal, a very tall man entered the cafeteria...as Buddy and I came through the classroom door, I noticed that he (the principal) had a big smile on his face as he saw the two of us..."Mrs. Devos, how are we doing?" As we met, the exchange was fast because I had to get back to the other children. I explained the entire scenario. I said that "Buddy was whispering some very unkind words to the other children. Words that he would have to talk to YOU about." Buddy is still clinging to my hand with his eyes directed down to the floor when I mouth "mother fu_ _ _ r" to the principal. I thought he was going to explode trying not to laugh out loud. He composed himself and directed his attention downward....way downward because he's 6 feet 3 or 4 inches tall and Buddy is a small kindergartener. He looked down at the tiny black leather jacket clad boy and said, "Buddy, did you use words we can't use here at school again?" In a hushed voice the answer was "yeah." The principal said, "well let's go talk about it, okay?" again..."yeah."
As I transferred his little hand from mine to the principals, he looked up at me. I smiled at him and said, "I'll see ya later, Buddy, okay?" I watched the two of them walk across the cafeteria hand in hand, the very picture of a young boy and a grown man and the understanding that takes place within that representation of two complete opposite ends of the male spectrum. As I started to close my classroom door, I glanced again at them just in time to see Buddy turn around to look at me and give me a little wave by curling his little fingers up and down on his free hand right up next to his cheek, as if he didn't want anyone else to see him do it. Not that there was anyone else to see it...in fact, the cafeteria lights were off and it was kind of dark with only the daylight coming in through the windows at the far end of the big room.
I've often wondered what has come of "Buddy". I hope he's happy and healthy and is living a productive life full of love, family and friends. I also wonder if he still wears a black leather jacket and spiked hair...even if he doesn't, in my mind he does.
Just when I think they are all seated and the teacher exits the room, in straggles the last student in the line. He's adorable in his black leather jacket with big silver zippers all over it and a wide collar. His dark hair is spiked straight up in the air and his sweet little face houses big blue eyes with thick dark lashes. His tiny baby teeth are white when he grins and I love it when I see them flash when he's singing...he loves to sing...he loves music...and, he loves me. There is usually at least one moment during music class when he crawls up onto my lap for a quick hug.
I greet him as he slowly saunters into the classroom and is walking around the back of the circle of kiddos. I've already taken my seat at the head of the circle to sing our greeting when I notice that "Buddy" (not his real name) is stopping behind each student and quietly whispering something to every single child. I quickly make out the words he is whispering..."mother fu _ _ _ r"! Now, Buddy, at the ripe old age of 5 was not a stranger to the "office". He was often in trouble for various infractions but I just couldn't help myself...he had stolen my heart. Without hesitation, I stood up and said, "Buddy, you realize what we have to do now, don't you??" I said this as I crossed over to him and held my hand out to him...he quietly said "yeah."
As he looked up at me with those big blue eyes, he wrapped his arms around my legs in a bear hug, then stepped back and grabbed my hand as his head and shoulders immediately slumped as if he just couldn't bear anymore disappointment. I hit the call button on the wall and asked for someone to meet me in the cafeteria since there was no one to cover my class while I walked him to the office.
The principal, a very tall man entered the cafeteria...as Buddy and I came through the classroom door, I noticed that he (the principal) had a big smile on his face as he saw the two of us..."Mrs. Devos, how are we doing?" As we met, the exchange was fast because I had to get back to the other children. I explained the entire scenario. I said that "Buddy was whispering some very unkind words to the other children. Words that he would have to talk to YOU about." Buddy is still clinging to my hand with his eyes directed down to the floor when I mouth "mother fu_ _ _ r" to the principal. I thought he was going to explode trying not to laugh out loud. He composed himself and directed his attention downward....way downward because he's 6 feet 3 or 4 inches tall and Buddy is a small kindergartener. He looked down at the tiny black leather jacket clad boy and said, "Buddy, did you use words we can't use here at school again?" In a hushed voice the answer was "yeah." The principal said, "well let's go talk about it, okay?" again..."yeah."
As I transferred his little hand from mine to the principals, he looked up at me. I smiled at him and said, "I'll see ya later, Buddy, okay?" I watched the two of them walk across the cafeteria hand in hand, the very picture of a young boy and a grown man and the understanding that takes place within that representation of two complete opposite ends of the male spectrum. As I started to close my classroom door, I glanced again at them just in time to see Buddy turn around to look at me and give me a little wave by curling his little fingers up and down on his free hand right up next to his cheek, as if he didn't want anyone else to see him do it. Not that there was anyone else to see it...in fact, the cafeteria lights were off and it was kind of dark with only the daylight coming in through the windows at the far end of the big room.
I've often wondered what has come of "Buddy". I hope he's happy and healthy and is living a productive life full of love, family and friends. I also wonder if he still wears a black leather jacket and spiked hair...even if he doesn't, in my mind he does.
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