Saturday School - Kids Say the Darndest Things...
A few weeks back we took our students on a field trip to the Slave Narratives, a contemporary dance performance. This opportunity came at the perfect time: the end of January. Introduce Black History Month AND a cultural experience? Yes please!
Along with a brief overview of the history of slavery, I spent a day teaching the students about etiquette. Our team shared our expectations for the trip: students needed to be well dressed (most importantly the boys' jeans needed not hang off of their butts!); when performances were over there should be an applause; absolutely no gum chewing or talking. And absolutely NO TEXTING. You know, the basics.
So the day of the trip our kids were coming dressed their best and we piled into two buses trekking down to the historical district of a neighboring county. We make it there, do a quick mouth check as they exit the bus (what? like we're gonna trust them completely to not have gum) and off into the theatre we go.
The kids are amazing! Seriously, they're filing into the rows quietly, even if a bit excited that the seats cushions move up and down like the movies. As I'm sitting down, I'm thinking I can't be prouder. And then I hear:
"Miss! Miss! I can't sit here!!" one of my louder girls shout out in the row in front of me as she jumps out of the seat.
"Why?" I look up a mixture of confusion and shock at her adamant exclamation. Seriously, I'm thinking of all of the possibilities. Was there something ON the chair?
"Someone DIED here!!" she continues and her matter-of-factness causes two other kids to sorta jump out of their seats.
"What in the world are you TALKING about? How do you KNOW someone died?' Seriously? I'm so freakin' confused.
"Right here. On the chair. It says: IN MEMORY OF --- [whomever's name I can't remember]"
And folks. She is standing there, mouth open, SHOCKED that they would just post something so gross as that, waiting for me to DO SOMETHING.
I try not to laugh. Really. I do. Maybe I snort or smirkkle (think a vocal smirk?). I then proceed to use it as a teachable moment and explain how this person was probably a supporter of the theatre and thus the family HONORED their life, NOT announced their death during a production.
Of course, I had to promise multiple times I was telling the truth before she (and the others) sat down.