“Mr. K, want
to see me do a handstand?” asked fifth grader Stephanie at the start of the day. She had
respectfully waited until after the morning announcements and flag salute to
make the offer. Poised at the rear of the classroom, she was eager to demonstrate
her acrobatic prowess.
Not right now, Steph, I told her. We
have to get started on literacy.
“How about a
split then?” And before I
could respond, she had dropped to the floor, effortlessly scissoring out her legs. “Try it,” she said,
encouragingly.
Maybe later, I lied. Let’s get started
on our lesson.
Not just yet. Emboldened perhaps by the floor exercise,
Carly approached my desk. “Did you know, Mr. K, that I want
to be a Rockette?”
I assured her that I was unaware of
that.
“I saw the
Rockettes at the Christmas show at Radio City Music Hall,” she said. “I really liked it. So I think I’d like to be
one of them when I grow up. I'm taking ballet lessons now.”
I told her that I did not know anyone who was a Rockette, and that she would be the first if she realized her dream.
“Yeah, but if
I don’t make it, I’ll be a
teacher,” she said.
Always good to have a backup plan in
place.
No comments:
Post a Comment