I’m in my first grade class, the bell will ring soon and I’m waiting for my students to arrive. Outside, the weather is gloomy and the decor, to put it politely, has no chance of ever appearing on a postcard. The concrete looks increasingly gray (if such a thing is possible), even in the sun. The shy rays of November invite you to close the curtains on this working-class neighborhood (in the bad sense of the word).
Naively or through avoidance, I never associated these apartments with the cocoons of my students. I know very well that it is not always pleasant at home for them. In order to add a little natural color to this space, I placed a lot of plants around my windows (which barely open). Since then, it has been forbidden to close the curtains. We want to let photosynthesis do its work.
At the same time, I supply my students with vitamin D, and I thus dare to hope to brighten their day, before returning them to their (sometimes too dark) reality. We just finished a lesson on the “CH” sound, which makes shhhh, like the word chut. “Yes, exactly like the sound I keep repeating to you when I ask for complete silence, well done, Jules! »
After the lesson, I ask the students to make “c”s and “h”s, with modeling clay, lowercase and uppercase letters, to then form “CH”. It practices fine motor skills and gives me a break. “Mr. Simon, it’s like the sign of the Canadiens, CH.” Yes, you are strong, great observation, well done, Maria!
When my students are working in silence (which never really happens completely), I play music to awaken another part of their brain. All kinds of music: from Alexandra Stréliski to Fleetwood Mac, Vincent Vallières, Bob Dylan, Dumas or the Beatles. This morning I finished the session with the Black Keys. Yes, I’m a first-year teacher who plays rock music to his students. On vinyl, too. Bad weirdo.
I have a student, let’s give him the fictitious name of Eric, who decided not to make the letters “CH”, but a capital L in the shape of… penis. I quickly realized it, because Eric’s little friends found him so, but so funny, while several girls in the class began to shout in chorus in such a strident sound that the sixth years at the The upper floor must have heard it.
I quickly intervene by telling Eric that I don’t think that’s the instruction I gave and I take away his modeling clay, asking him to think about his action before we can both talk about it calmly.
Although it’s not (for the moment) a super serious gesture, I can’t trivialize this penis in capital letters. It is important to break this type of behavior from a young age, because, if nothing is done, it is often small gestures that will end up being normalized. And as a result, become more damaging in the long run.
I observed during my first years in an elementary school that I am practically (not always, but almost) the only man on the teaching staff. For what ? In my opinion, we should find more men in the education sector, not just in secondary school or as physical education teachers.
Not because women don’t do things correctly (on the contrary, they excel at them!). It takes a village to raise a child, right?
At the end of the day, when the awaited Friday free play period is in full swing, I generally need some peace and quiet. So I lower the needle on L’heptade of Harmonium. I watch my students having fun and I notice that little Eric is getting ready to make another penis, this time with LEGO. I don’t even need to speak: a simple look reminds him of our conversation of the day. He falls back on building a house. “Good choice, Eric,” I said, winking at him.
“No, my little guy, no. It’s not the same way to go about it, no,” sings Serge Fiori in like crazy. I laugh under my breath. Next week, we will look at the sound “ou”, as in “J’t’aime comme un fou-ou-ou-ou”, by Robert Charlebois.
That’s also what school is for, to make students think about different subjects and get them to think for themselves, so that the day when little Noémie says “no” to little Eric, said Eric will remember what Mr. Simon had explained to him about consent at the little school.
Knowing how much the ministry hopes for a change in the narrative in education, why not advertise to attract more boys into teaching? This could bring different models of masculinity into the classroom to ensure that it does not become toxic as we age. This could also reduce the likelihood that a young girl would prefer to be in the forest with a bear rather than with a man.
I have two little boys at home, I try hard to show them good manners in order to make beautiful Darla smile rather than scare her away. After all, I have a lot of little brats in my class, real Alfalfa males!
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