This was our week to go to the library. Every time, before we visit the library I teach and sometimes reteach my students appropriate library behavior. When I don’t chaos ensues. Apparently as time progressed, and I didn’t, the concept of library and amusement park became synonymous in the minds of our youth. So we talk about what is “appropriate.”
My class was so “appropriate” the librarian issued impressive comments about their behavior. Books in hand and beaming we returned to class. In the freedom of the walkways they shared their literary finds.
Shortly into our walk, one of my students runs in front of me visibly upset. “Mrs. Bergastrom! this book is not appropriate!” Normally I am “Mrs. B.” My Swedish last name is difficult for students from the Asian continents to enunciate. The full use of my name is a clear indicator of her distress.
Her younger brother had a Zits comic book collection. I was looking hard and could not see the inappropriate. She pointed to a picture of Jeremy, the main character, bending down and showing what us older individuals would call plumbers pants. She comes from a highly conservative culture. And, yes, there was a tad more than what she wanted her younger brother to see. He saw the picture and his sister’s objections and burst into fits of laughter.
Joking, I said, “When we get to the room I’ll put a baind aid on the picture.” She was happy. Life was good and I felt like I was the best teacher in the whole world. We had a good library day and I saved my student from distress.You know the stars stopped their alignment for a brief moment to say “Good job, teacher girl.”
We were in the class and getting settled and she was at my desk with the book. Smiling and holding the book for surgery she waited. I laughed a hearty laugh, this girl was serious. Her brother knew she was serious too because he relinquished the book to his sister. And Jeremy’s pants were altered to include something to cover the slight crack revealed below his waist line.
Once the band aid was applied she was happy. Big sister, hugged me and said, “You are good teacher Mrs. B.”
And I thought to myself, I’m glad they’re still at the age where a band aid can fix it.