I Did It

It’s always an adventure when I get new students especially the four to six year old crowd. I’m wondering what type of personality will I be dealing with today. When we first meet, the children can be really quiet or unsure of themselves and of me. They can be totally undisciplined making my class chaotic and definitely less productive for everyone in the coming days. Others are thoughtful and aware, others are living perpetually it seems in “cartoon land.” Some are so gregarious, dancing around with joy all the time or bold with boundless energy that makes me just weak with “oldness” just watching them. It makes me feel a little guilty that I have to temper down all the enthusiasm so that we can get down to work (and play).

Yesterday, I met a little girl with her hair up with lovely wispy spirals of hair falling around her face. I’ll call her Lacey. She sat down on the mat with her hands in her lap looking quietly at me with big saucer eyes waiting to see what was going to happen next. She reminded me of a character in a book I once read to my son, one that had pictures of lovely woodland fairies tending to the flowers and the trees. Her five-year-old brother, the bold one, kept me well informed on the latest Spongebob episodes along with a long list of all the things he could do and show me if I was willing to watch. The class went well and everyone had a good time.

The following day in class, I decided to pass on to my assistant the Lil’ Dragons that were seasoned veterans and concentrated on the newbies. They get special attention and I get to evaluate their physical skills and needs. Still quiet and thoughtful, Lacey listened carefully to my directions. She performed well and seemed pleased with her work, but still didn’t say much at all.

Before the end of each class we play a skill game. Today we play rope swing. The children stand on a blue square mat and swing, Indiana Jones style, across “the lava”(red mats) to the blue mat on the other side. They then run around the perimeter of blue mats back to the line for their next turn. Lacey couldn’t figure out how to pick up her legs and swing. On her next turn, when she leapt, I lifted her by her belt, and she safely landed on the mat on the other side. On her next trip, she wanted to try herself and made it. She surprised me because she started chanting, “I did it.” Then emphatically say, “I DID it!” She celebrated all around the perimeter of the mat; emphasizing a different word in that powerful sentence each time she said it. On her next turn she made it again. Again she shot up her hands and kept saying over and over, “I did it.” But she said it to no one but herself. Extraordinary!

Most children quickly look to their parents to see if mom and dad had witnessed their great feat of heroism or athletic prowess. You heard the line a thousand times. “Watch me, mommy. Waaatch Meee.” Or look to me as their coach and instructor for approval, encouragement, and some quick high fives. I was expecting the typical reaction, looking to someone else for confirmation, but Lacey’s reaction was new. It didn’t even occur to her to look for anyone else. She was reveling in her triumph, by herself. She didn’t need outside approval or applause. She was applauding and self-encouraging and repeating a powerful phrase that I am sure she will say a thousands of times more in her lifetime. I did it!