Heroes

My social studies lesson from Wednesday was about heroes from our country's history.  It's funny to see how watered down things are in first grade social studies, especially when you're talking about people like Sandra Day O'Connor.  I mean, I spent about 70% of my senior seminar talking about the woman, and you can't exactly tell first graders "She determined the course of abortion legality for the last twenty years!!!"  I went to college and gained all that information about her- seriously, my pub pol professor practically threw up Sandra Day O'Connor juice on us once a week for three hours- and all I can teach my kids is "She makes sure laws are fair."

"Like not shooting guns?"

...yeah.  Just like that.

After talking about all the people in our big book, we got to sharing who we thought our heroes were.  My classroom might as well have been an Office episode.  "Who are your heroes?"  I asked.

"Martin Luther King, Jr."
"Superman."
"Adra-Ham Lincomb (spelling shows pronunciation)."

One little girl looked up at me with a very stern look and a long, dramatic pause.

"God," she whispered.

I wanted to make sure they didn't think that only famous people could be heroes, so I over dramatized a little family history.

"Heroes don't always have to be famous," I explained.  "Sometimes, they can just be people in your community.  Or even your family!  A lot of people think their moms and dads are heroes.  But other people can be heroes, too.  Let me tell you a story about a boy I know."

For once, I actually had their full attention.  Maybe it was the fact that my room's thermostat is messed up so it's about 87 degrees in there by 10 am.  They're too hot to talk.  I kept going anyway.

"In kindergarten... he couldn't read."  Gasps.  "No way!!"  Several kids called out.  You couldn't read in kindergarten either, dummies.

"In first grade... he couldn't read."  More gasps, loudest from the few kids still struggling to read.

"In second grade... in APRIL of second grade... he couldn't read."  Awe.  Dramatic first grade awe, but still- awe.

"I know, I know.  Finally, at the very end of second grade, he learned.  But it wasn't easy.  And it still wasn't easy for him all through school.  He had a lot of trouble learning because his brain was different.  He was still good at things, especially sports.  When he got to high school, he wanted to play sports in college."

"Awesome!  Like Kobe Bryant!"  ...not exactly.

"But everyone told him he couldn't.  They said, 'You can't go to college- you'll fail out.  You aren't smart enough.'  They said, 'You can't play sports in college- you're too small.  Plus, you'll fail out.'"  I'm a really good storyteller, clearly.

"But he didn't listen to them.  He tried anyway.  And do you know where he is now?  In COLLEGE.  And do you know what else?  He plays a sport at a Division I school (that means a really big, good school) and he's 8th in the country in saves because he's a sports goalie."  Too many details, like which sport, bogs the kids' minds down.  I had to keep it simple.  By now, you can probably see that I'm talking about my little brother.

"And do you know who that boy is?"  Blank stares.  "My little brother."

"Oh wow!"
"Awesome!"
"And he gets straight A's, right?" ...not exactly...

"Yes.  Straight A's.  So keep a look out, because you might find a hero in someone you know, someone younger than you or the same age, someone in your own family!  Maybe your very own little brother or sister."  I was hoping to impart some piece of greater wisdom to them, something that would stick with them as they grew up.

"Shoot," one kid said.  "My little sister ain't no hero.  All she does is scratch me and throw up on herselfs."

...apparently, I failed.  At least for the time being.