Skip to main content

It Could Have Gone Terribly Wrong

When it comes to 'stuff', a lot of it is important to children.

Take crayons, for example. Or should I say colouring pencils as they are now referred to. They have been upgraded since I was in love with the 124 colour wheel by Crayola (r).

They are now full fledged pencils.

I was doing a craft today with my little kindergarten Peach Class. My craft consists of colouring, cutting and pasting. Listen, people if TEACHER can't do the craft, then TEACHER looks a bit like an idiot so TEACHER chooses crafts wisely.

Things were going well. No one was fighting over whose colouring pencils were the best. No one was trying to make trades - say their 'nude' for someone else's 'sea blue'. No one was yelling (in Korean) at other kids for stealing/hiding/eating their colouring pencils. All in all, it was a good day for crafts.

Then it happened. Generally sweet and innocent, little K asked little R politely AND IN ENGLISH I MAY ADD if he could please borrow her brown colouring pencil because he didn't have brown and how could he possibly colour bread anything BUT brown, although I suppose white would do but he didn't have that EITHER and hey, his mom takes care of him and doesn't allow anything processed to pass his lips, except of course all that CANDY she sends in for him and the other kids and..

well, R was very sweet and said 'yes' (okay so she said something in Korean but I assumed it was cordial because he smiled and took the brown pencil).

Suddenly, he came back. Holding the colouring pencil. With the TOP HALF BROKEN OFF.

People, this could have produced bloodshed. You have not seen a child scorned until you see one that has had something broken by another child. Something as cherished and special as a colouring pencil.

Little K was trying to get Little R's attention and when he finally did, I thought it was over. The gloves were coming off, the tears were going to pour and the Korean words were going to flow and I was going to be powerless to stop it.

I braced myself for the inevitable. And waited in vain.

Because Little R looked up, saw the state of her precious pencil, gave a bit of a shrug, said something that sounded calm and cool and not at all like she was TOTALLY FREAKING OUT and then, she sweetly just took the broken piece from Little K.

What she did next astounded me. She actually started breaking the little piece into LITTLER PIECES and let out the cutest giggle I'd heard in a while.

Little K had a sweet guffaw and the two of them were laughing at the insanity of the way the pencil was only broken once but ..oh wait for the hilarity..many..ha ha...many...aaaaa...times!! aha hahahaaha....

It was a bit of a moment in human observation. I think if it had been another kid in the class, Little R would not have been so kind. There would have been the pout face and the stomping and the 'A Teacher, (korean korean korean) A Teacher (korean korean korean).

But Little K is a little sensitive. Like WAY MORE sensitive than my little brother, who if you know me, grew up hearing me say that 'he's sensitive' but I didn't know what sensitive was until I met this kid.

And Little R knows that. So she sacrificed her drama moment to keep another child from feeling alone and alienated. And that touched me.

So much that it took me a couple of minutes instead of seconds to tell them to 'Stop chopping up that colouring pencil. You'll make a mess'.

Sigh. Always the teacher I guess.


liz said…
awwww.... wish i had kindys' to teach...
kimikazi said…

Popular posts from this blog

I'm baaaack!

Hard to believe that last entry was almost three years ago!

Many moons ago, I set this blog up to chronicle our journeys. Once we were grounded a bit more, it kind of lost its way. I spent some time working on my writing offline, taking on different projects and working full time as a technical writer. It was difficult to keep this blog up. Not for any real reason I can articulate. Just had my words redirected to other avenues for awhile.
But, I'm pleased to say, after over a decade away, we are back in the UK, living and re-experiencing a place we enjoyed in the mid-2000s.
Social media has certainly changed the way we look at blogs. I'm excited to navigate this new world, explore just what people post, what people read. What's better on one of the many new platforms and what's still appropriate for good old fashioned blogosphere.
For now, here's a peek at where we're staying -- in a pretty little village just outside of Oxford. A temporary home for now but suc…

Room with a view

We've been in our new home for 10 weeks nos and it's feeling more like home than ever.Every day, I sit down at my desk to the most inspiring view.A collection of stories is building. This space makes it easy to gather my thoughts.I've been consumed with a few work projects and am looking forward to collecting my thoughts soon.Writers club is still going ... I was on a bit of a hiatus but hope to get into my routine for fall. For now, boat gazing is helping.


My regular journaling has significantly improved my mood.

I've been taking some time, twice a week, to polish existing content as well as develop my floating ideas into a more concrete outline.

I've felt this focus for the last 6 weeks that I can't really describe properly. It's as though I've shifted my thinking totally. Writing is my craft. It's what I do, who I am, how I exist. It's like my mojo.

So, I guess, I've gotten my mojo back. My focus, my purpose, my essence.

And it feels good. It feels right. And I am almost understanding more now why the best writing of the best writers happens when they are older, more polished, more experienced, more rough around the edges.

When all the youthful spark has been extinguished and what's left, is the determined embers, that will not go softly, that will not die out. That will continue, fervently glowing, creating warmth and not just drawing attention from its flicker, but pulling people in by it's so…