Big Mouths, Little Ears

We are sitting in a large circle, 16 four year olds, three teaching assistants and I. Children are returning their instruments in small groups based on the colors of their shirts. Three children go to the instrument tray and to put their instruments away. Two return, as they should, empty-handed. One returns with instrument still in his one hand, a thumb in his mouth and eyes brimming with tears. I didn't notice any problem at the instrument tray. I ask him if he is okay, if something happened. He continues to look sad and says nothing. 

I ask the other two children, "Did something happen while you were returning your instruments? Do you know why he looks so sad?" I know these two children. I know it is doubtful that either will respond to my question, as neither child engages in regular, turn-taking conversation with any consistency. But I ask, because I would ask any children in the same situation. I think perhaps they will think about what happened. I hope drawing their attention to this child's sad face will help them to read this emotion on their classmates' faces in the future. 

One of the assistants shakes her head, smirks and says loudly, "Those two are the worst."

I know she probably means to inform me that it will be hard to get an answer from them. Or that they would struggle to describe any incident that might have occurred. I know she does not consider her words and how they will impact on these two children, nor how they will impact on the other 14 children sitting in the circle listening. I know (or hope) she intends to be helpful. I also know there is nothing I can say to erase these words from the memories of the children in this group.

But what messages are being given to these children? 

To the two children involved in whatever problem may or may not have occurred, she has confirmed that:

• They are not expected to participate in solving this problem.
• They are not good children.
• They are, in fact, worse than all of the other children in the class (or school or world).

To the other children in the group, she has expressed that:

• These two children are not as good as they, themselves are.
• These two children are not expected participate in solving problems.
• And perhaps, that children with differences (because these two children have clear behavioral and social differences) are the worst.

All in one snide remark intended for another adult.

Here are some things we should consider in our day-to-day conversations with and around children:

Children hear everything we say around them, no matter whom the words are intended for.

My little sister shocked her pre-Kindergarten teacher when, months after he'd made a brief comment to another adult in passing in the hallway, she repeated to her teacher, word-for-word, what he had said about another child. Our words are heard, and often internalized by children. When we say they are bad often enough, they may begin to feel like bad children. If we call them, "Readers," when talking to them, they may begin to feel like readers. If we tell them how kind they are when we observe kindness, we support and expand their capacity to make kind choices. We must consider what behaviors and attributes we hope to grow in children, and focus our language accordingly.

Children (mis)understand our words.

Especially when working with the youngest children in our schools, teachers assume their words will go over their heads, that they won't "get it." But they often do understand. And even if these children can't make the inferences that allow them to understand our intended meanings, they understand something. 

Adult conversations should be reserved for adult-only areas and times.

Teachers love to talk about children. We can't help it. Sometimes we share the wonderful accomplishments and activities that have occurred in our classrooms. We talk about new achievements made by children who are struggling. And we talk about our frustrations. All of these conversations about children should happen away from children unless we are talking, for a specific reason, to children about another child's wonderful work or actions.

Adults should never insult children in front of children.

I know. Seems like it shouldn't be necessary to say this. I wouldn't, except I keep hearing teachers saying negative things about children, aloud - and often in front of other children! 

"This one's been running around like the village idiot." 
"You're disgusting!" 
"Thank goodness John isn't here today. I haven't had to yell all day." 
"What grade do you think I'm going to give you?" Child responds that she'll give him a high grade. Teacher laughs hysterically.

Keep your mean thoughts to yourself. Share them in staff rooms if you must, but ideally, just don't. 

Teachers' kids 

I remember when I was eight, a principal who was not well liked by the staff at my school was finally removed. The staff sang, "Ding dong, the witch is dead," after most children had left for the day. I was a staff kid, so I was still at school. I heard them. I understood. I remember. I was shocked. Staff kids tend to be privy to much more adult conversation than other children. As hard as it is, teacher-parents should try not to have negative conversations in front of their own children. Our children have to interact with other teachers and children regularly, and our opinions of those teachers and children may impact negatively on their interactions. 

Sarcasm and jokes

I touch on the topic of sarcasm frequently because it's important. One head of section who was generally quite appropriate with children said to a second grader, jokingly, "Why don't you just go bang your head against the wall?" This child looked utterly confused and stunned. I jumped in, "He was just joking. Right, Mr. _______? You weren't serious." The head of section saw the kid's face and immediately felt terrible. He assured the child it was a joke, not a very good one, but a joke nonetheless. The child was clearly relieved.

Describe the action; don't label the child.

As often as possible, whether talking to children or about them, we should describe the specific behavior we observed. It's more productive than labeling a child as good, bad, kind, mean, smart, lazy, etc. I once said to my own child, in frustration, "Your behavior is ridiculous." (Not one of my prouder moments!) He burst into tears. "You called me ridiculous!" Oh, the drama! We talked; I focused on the specific actions I was unhappy with. The conversation was productive.

Be honest.
Tell children the truth. There's rarely a good reason to be dishonest with children. If you can't answer, tell them so.

We send unspoken messages also.
This could probably be a whole 'nother topic, and maybe it will be. We send unspoken messages constantly; by how we respond to each child; by texting and checking our phones while with children; by calling on one gender/culture/child more in certain subject areas; with angry expressions; by ignoring children or dismissing them. Everything we do and much of what we don't sends a message.

None of us is perfect. Sometimes words slip out of our mouths before we think them through. When those words impact children negatively, we should do what's necessary to repair the relationship or clarify our (hopefully positive) intention. Most importantly, we must consider the impact of our words on all children within earshot. 

A fantastic read on this topic, Power of Our Words: