But if someone really cared, well, they'd take the time to spare
A moment to try and understand another one's despair
Remember, in this game we call life, that no one said it's fair.
Guns N' Roses
That look happened for the first time since coming back to the classroom this past week. Students were given a challenging task - explore different parts of a rectangle and convince someone else that the pieces were either equal in area or unequal.
As the rest of the class jumped in to the challenge, one student looked hesitant and asked for help right away. Wanting to support perseverance, I gave this student some questions to think about to help guide her into starting the task. A moment later, I saw her, looking a little more panicked, eying the rest of the class as they all were manipulating their rectangular parts. Her hand went back up and her statement of "I don't get it," came with much more of a quiver in her voice... In other words, I was losing her. Within 20 seconds this child was in tears, frustrated, and highly stressed. I was 1.5 meters away.
"Would you like a minute?" I asked, throwing a lifeline, maybe to myself.
"No, I want to understand," was the response.
In past years, I would have been right beside her. Shoulder to shoulder, becoming her partner and working with her. The activity itself would have probably been a collaborative activity from the start, so students could generated and test theories together. I came into this moment unprepared for the breakdown.
I ended up sitting on the floor in front of her desk with my own paper and supporting her along the way. We got through it - but, as breakdowns go, this was minor. I have had worse in my classroom before, and will have worse in my classroom in the future. The only difference is, next time I'll have a plan.
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