Last Friday I had the joy and distinct pleasure of joining the
first grade on a field trip. Please note: my use of the words "joy" and
"pleasure" are dripping with sarcasm. I still argue that sarcasm needs
its own font. Or possibly its own punctuation.
In the weeks leading up to this field trip, I was
somewhat excited. A field trip means a day away from the school. It
means a change of routine and a breath of fresh air. Little did I know
that fresh air would end up being vile and full of virulent contagions.
The day before the planned trip, the first grade
teacher began sharing her fears about taking this class on this trip.
The plan was to ride into downtown Roanoke (an hour drive by bus) to the
history museum. There, we would meet Santa Claus and see an exhibit of
antique toys. Apparently, the museum provided a list of rules which
included staying quiet and not touching the exhibits. Inability to
adhere to these rules could result in being asked to leave. Thinking
about the majority of this first grade class, I could understand the
teacher's fears.
The day of the trip arrived. We all loaded the bus
without much incident and we were on our way. Oh, I should also mention,
we were traveling with two kindergarten classes as well. This means
there were approximately twice as many kindergarteners as first graders.
If you had a bus with 30 or so kindergarteners and 16 first graders,
which group would you think would give you the most trouble. I'd say the
kindergarteners, wouldn't you? You'd be wrong, though. It's the first
graders.
They were constantly standing in their seats, yelling,
screaming, complaining about who they had to sit with. A few, no matter
how many times they were told, kept getting up and turning around. It
was quite irritating (really not a strong enough word).
By some amazing Christmas miracle, we did not get
kicked out of the museum. But the kids were pretty rude while Santa
explained the importance of being good and following directions. Some
laid on the floor, not listening. Some rolled around on the floor. One
girl peed in her pants. She was sitting right next to the teacher and
didn't think to ask to go to the bathroom.
The class picture with Santa was not without incident.
The girl who had the biggest problem listening, who we'll call
Annoyance, pulled Santa's beard. Not a fake beard, by the way. And good
for the old man for not backhanding that kid. That might have been my
first impulse in his boots. On the plus side, the kids didn't take turns
sitting on Santa's lap. He didn't have to deal with Peed-In-Her-Pants
Girl.
Lunch was in the Market Building, which was always a
highlight of downtown field trips when I was a kid. But that's back when
the international food court was a big thing. Not many options after
the renovations. We ate our packed lunches up on the mezzanine level
overlooking the food court. Annoyance attempted to lift a kindergarten
girl over the rail of the barrier. I'd never heard her teacher yell that
loud before.
When lunch ended, we had the students line up outside
to await the bus. Annoyance decided it would be a great idea to start
pulling flowers out of hte decorative planters surrounding the Market
Building. More yelling from the teacher. Would you believe that
Annoyance is not one of my clients?
I can't believe I left this out. It's kind of important
to the story. A couple of us grown-ups met the bus at the Market
Building before lunch to unload all the packed meals. When the bus
pulled away, it knocked over a metal pole at the curb. Two of the four
bolts holding it to the street were ripped up, sending chunks of asphalt
and concrete flying. I set it back upright so no one would get in
trouble. But a strong wind could have knocked over again. Anyway...
I offered to intimidate the children, frightening them
with feats of strength. The plan was to knock over the metal pole at the
curb, threatening to do the same to the kids if they could not wait
quietly. I should have done it.
Back on the bus. More complaining, screaming, yelling,
standing. The kindergarteners were still fairly quiet. This may have
been because many of them were feeling bus sick. Throughout the trip, we
may have been seconds away from becoming a rolling vomitorium at any
given time. That nauseating feeling was only perpetuated by the stench
of urine coming from Peed-In-Her-Pants Girl sitting in the back. It was,
I wanna say, really bad.
Here comes the part where I get mean. It doesn't happen
often, so people who witness it are sometimes impressed. I wouldn't
describe it as a loss of temper. I think I just choose to speak or act
with authority, whether I actually have it or not.
Annoyance was constantly getting up. Shocker, right? I
stood up and towered over her (I'm short, but I can tower over a
six-year-old). "Sit down!" I shouted. Again, with authority, not anger.
It was enough authority to probably shock most of the other kids into
silence for a moment. Amazingly, she sat. And she stayed seated until
the bus stopped at a gas station halfway to the school.
We needed a short break for the kids feeling queasy.
The first graders took that opportunity to stand, whine, yell, complain
and scream some more. I stood up again. I faced all the first graders.
"You are all being entirely too loud. The kindergarteners
are all sitting quietly, the way you're supposed to when you ride the
bus. We have 20 minutes left on this bus. I expect each of you to stay
in your seat and sit quietly. You can talk, but I don't want to hear
anyone yelling. Raise your hand if you understand everything I just
said." Every hand shot up. "Good, then all of you can follow
directions."
Before I could even sit back in my own seat,
Peed-In-Her-Pants Girl stood up and turned around in the aisle.
"Peed-In-Your-Pants Girl! Didn't I just tell everyone to stay in their
seat?!" She sat immediately and put her jacket over her head.
We started moving again. It wasn't long before
Annoyance found a loophole in my directions. She wasn't getting up, but
she put her legs in the aisle and turned around to annoy a boy behind
her. Eventually he became so annoyed that he slapped her (after asking
her several times to turn back around).
I stepped back in. "Annoyance, if you turn around again I'm going to come back there and sit on you."
Two
minutes later, she was facing the back again. So I stood up, ready to
follow through on my promise. Annoyance stood up, not wanting me to sit
on her lap. She told me she didn't want me to sit on her lap. She told
me she didn't want me to sit on her. "Then you shouldn't have turned
around again. Sit down!"
Annoyance sat. She, too, covered her head with her
jacket. Pretty sure I made her cry. I was a little concerned that my
actions may have been frowned upon, but I received a high five from the
principal upon returning to the school.
And that is the true story of my first, and hopefully last first grade field trip.
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