Wordpress on the Blink

I have a blog with Wordpress dedicated to chronicling my experiences as a teacher of English to children of immigrants, but I can't seem to get it to load today and I've just got to share this story, so here goes.

I often take my second-graders out to the playground with Ms. K's class. Our principal is against recess and still hasn't approved a schedule, but we've been going based on last year's schedule anyway. Two rebels with a cause.

I love watching my students have a blast chasing and being chased, using English in a natural, non-contrived setting. Ms. K and I sit together on a bench and manage about 3 exchanges of conversation in between all the kids running up to tell us things. My ESL kids mostly just want to talk to me, but Ms. K's kids mostly run up to tattle.

"Ms. K! Jaquez had hit me!" 'Ms. K! Jamario be saying bad words!" "Ms. K! Koneshia had pulled my hair!" You've never seen such righteous indignation. I just watch in amazement as these seven year olds make their accusations and express their own innocence with such vehemence. It's really quite funny.

"They're just like Bon-Qui-Qui," I said to Ms. K after one little girl stood before us, hands on her hips, her eyes flashing, voice at full volume, her head punctuating every indignity she'd experienced. Ms. K listens, then dismisses her with a wave of her hand, "Go play."

I comment that it seems like kindergarten teachers spend most of their day getting the kids to line up and the second-grade teachers spend their time listening to tattling.

She agreed that this year her class is terrible about tattling. I asked her if she'd ever heard of the Tattle Box, where instead of letting them tell you their complaints, they have to write them on slips of paper. Presumably, having to write it down cuts down on the tattling. She had, but had never tried one; then said, "I'm bringing one tomorrow."

The next day, she popped in to show me her box, a large shoebox covered in blue, labeled The Tattlebox. "We're starting today."

Three hours later, lunchtime, she popped back in with box in hand, "Look at this."

She took off the lid and the box was literally overflowing with white slips.

We laughed together and agreed that at least they're getting a lot of writing done.