Before the ducks hatched, I had fantasized about them imprinting on me and believing that I was their mother. I would raise them as my own. And when the time was right, I would teach them how to fly using an airplane like that movie Fly Away Home. Silly me.
This past Tuesday, Ms. Esther, Ms. Anna, and I decided to return our ducklings to the farm. We looked at different options. We were knees deep in duck poop and decided to go with the original plan to return the ducks where we got the eggs from. With the school year quickly coming to an end, we needed to make a decision, quick. I wanted to give them to a local high school that has an agricultural program and has raised farm animals. Our principal e-mailed their principal about our duck situation. Unfortunately, our request fell on deaf ears. Tuesday was our last day with our, now big, ducklings. Each of the three teachers who took part in the incubation process had two ducks. Since Ms. Esther only had one egg hatch, we decided it would be beneficial for her duck, Jessie, to socialize with one of mine. Charlie spent the week with Jessie to help him develop social skills. I told my students that our ducks would be leaving that day. Many were disappointed and everyone was given the opportunity to say one last goodbye before our departure. We left promptly when the school day ended in an unsuccessful attempt to beat the traffic on the Long Island Expressway. It took about an hour for us to get to our destination, the Makinajian Poultry Farm & Country Store. We pulled up to a small pond where the ducks were roaming freely in an open space. A man came to greet us and looked at our ducks. We couldn't help but ask about the fate of our feathered friends. He assured us that they would not be killed. None of the animals were killed on this farm. They will be used for their eggs. Our ducks had to be adjusted to the farm life and would then be allowed to join the rest of the ducks in the open pond area. We said one last tearful goodbye. Esther held Jessie and I did the same with Gimpy. Both ducks with success stories after coming from a grim start straight out of the incubator, Jessie coming out premature and Gimpy with a bummed leg. We reflected on the whole process. This was the first year Ms. Anna and Ms. Esther had hatched duck eggs and my first year hatching eggs. They had previously worked with chick eggs. Esther and I agreed that the ducklings had more personality and we were way more attached to them than the chicks. It was a great experience but we probably will not incubate duck eggs again. We both agreed to take a break from incubating eggs next year.
Before the ducks hatched, I had fantasized about them imprinting on me and believing that I was their mother. I would raise them as my own. And when the time was right, I would teach them how to fly using an airplane like that movie Fly Away Home. Silly me.
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As a teacher, I have a general interest in how a child interacts with their parents. I know kids behave very differently in school than they do at home. Even though I know this, I'm still surprised when certain parents tell me how different their child is at home. When a student begins to think they can get away with the same shenanigans they pull at home in school, I step in and try to stop it.
One of my students this year got away with a lot of tantrums at home. He'd come to school, and anytime he was scolded because of poor behavior, he would toss a hissy fit. His arms would cross, face made a pouty look, eyebrows became V shaped, and he'd make an annoying grunting noise. This would not do. Helen and I agreed that this would not fly in pre-k 108. Anytime this happened, we would send him next door to the other pre-k class. Kids do not like being taken out of their comfort zone. This explains why so many cry on their first day of school. Once they get used to the environment, some of their true colors begin to show. Nothing bad happens next door. They're just not used to that environment. They would sit and take a break After a few times of being sent to pre-k 110, he learned to never throw tantrums in school. Any time I see a child acting a fool in public, I cannot help but take interest. When they become uncontrollable and unreasonable, my inner thoughts always resort to "HIT EMMMMM!" One time, I was at Panera bread and I saw a couple with their child who was probably 8 years old. They sat at a table directly in my line of sight. The child was acting like a douche. Every time his mother asked him to eat, he'd turn his head around and refused. He would bang on the table kick his parents underneath it. After several attempts to control their child, the parents were at their boiling point. The next time he tried to hit his plate, the mother grabbed his arm and squeezed. He began to cry and throw a tantrum. His father had enough and didn't want to cause a scene. He was grabbed his father and was rushed out the back entrance. I found this amusing and thought about my own childhood. Was I like this jackass child? My initial thought was "no way!" After thinking a bit longer, it changed to…"well maybe I was…" My mother told me about how my brother and I was when we were younger. We did not always live in Flushing. Our first home was in Jamaica, Queens. As the only Asian family there, it was hard to shop for the normal Chinese groceries. Therefore, my mom would go food shopping in China Town. She'd take the F train all the way to Delancy and come back with two handful of the red plastic grocery bags. When my brother was old enough to come with her, she would take him along. On every trip, he would see one of those toy cars they'd sell in China Town and ask her to buy it. At first, she would refuse. My brother would cry and throw a tantrum which eventually led to my mother caving in and buying him a new toy car every weekend. On the train, my brother would put the car in his mouth and gnaw the tires off before they could make it home. This happened with every toy car he got. After telling this story about my brother, my mom would always follow up with my tantrums. When I was about three years old, my mother had to take me to the doctor. The doctor's office was located in China Town. I hated doctors and needles. Anytime I knew I was going to the doctor, I would run, hide, scream, and did anything to get out of it. Unfortunately, nothing worked. On this particular visit, I believe my mother tricked me by telling me that we would be visiting my cousins, Schern and Annie. I really enjoyed visiting them, so luring me into China Town was easy. When we were there, my two cousins and brother were used to try to convince me to surrender and go to the doctor peacefully. It was anything but peaceful. The crying, screaming, running, arms flailing like the blow up car dealership guy was inevitable. The only thing that got me into the doctor was the promise of buying me a beloved Barney the Dinosaur doll. When I was a child, I loved Barney. I had Barney t-shirt, shorts, plates, light switch etc. But I never had a doll. As I grew older, Barney became a guilty pleasure because it became a little kids show. By the time I was 7, I would have to hide my Barney doll whenever friends would come over, in fear of being outted as a Barney lover. I would have to make up an excuse about why my room had a Barney switch. My go to excuse was always "it was left over from the previous owner." The promise of the Barney doll did not calm me down inside the office. When the doctor tried to give me a shot, my craziness led me to kick the doctor on the groin and break the needle, forcing him to charge us double for the second needle. After the second successful attempt, we were off to the 34th St. Macy's to get my beloved Barney doll! Barney lasted way longer than a train ride home. To this day, my Barney doll is still in great shape and at home with me. The 27 year old me would have loved to see the three year old me and my brother get our asses kicked for pulling that type of nonsense. Thanks to the wonderful people who contributed to our donorschoose projects during the friends and family challenge, we were able to get Keeping Pre-K EGG-cited funded. The project helped our class get our hands on a Brinsea Mini Advance Hatching Egg Incubator and an EcoGlow 20 Chick Brooder. Since the project was funded during the winter, we could not make use of the materials until the beginning of spring. Due to the on and off cold weather we had, we did not get our eggs until the beginning of May. Ms. Esther hatched chick eggs last year and they were cute, but I really wanted to get duck eggs this year. I spoke with Ms. Anna (the other pre-k teacher) and Ms. Esther (kindergarten teacher) about hatching duck eggs instead. They were hesitant at first because duck eggs have a lower hatch rate percentage than chicks, and they also take longer, 28 days as opposed to the 21 days it takes chicks to hatch. We were able to find a farm to buy fertile duck eggs and we split the eggs. I ended up with 7 eggs. On May 5th, we introduced the incubator, brooder, and egg to our pre-k students. I did not reveal the animal the eggs came from to keep our pre-kinder kiddos guessing. Their answers were interesting; dinosaurs, robot, fire truck, pig, elephant, butterfly, frog, the list goes on. A few brought up chicks and ducks, but I played the ignorant card. Throughout the incubation period, I did slip and reveal the animal, but four year olds did not catch up on my slipup. Last Thursday, I walked into my room to find one of the eggs beginning to hatch! As the day progressed, the crack got bigger and bigger. The duck was chirping as well. My friend and colleagues discussed what we could name them. Mrs. Belanich came up with Charlie (influenced from the ‘Charlie bit my finger’ video). As the duckling chirped from inside its shell, I was calling it Charlie from outside (hoping it would recognize my voice and imprint onto me when it hatched). The next day, the crack was big, but not big enough for it to come out the same day. They students took noticed right away and were excited. They knew the eggs were set to hatch June 2nd, but seeing the process in person intrigued many of them. My concern was that it would hatch over the weekend and would not have enough food or water to survive to Monday. As the weekend passed, I nervously rushed to school to find that three little ducklings hatched! I was so excited. They were very squished in the tiny incubator, but seeing how cramped they must have been in the egg, it was probably fine. Their feathers were dry, indicating they must have hatched some time ago and dried off. I looked for a container to fit the eggs and brooder in as well. Our incubator has a center piece for water. There is a cap that is sectioned to prevent hatchlings from drowning as they drink water. One poor duck’s foot was caught and stuck in it for hours. I carefully dislodged its leg from the cap. The duckling’s poor leg was bent out of shape and was not normal. I was very concerned for poor little Gimpy. Gimpy could not properly stand or walk. I spent a few hours helping it get used to proper leg position. I was worried sick for Gimpy. The other two ducks, Charlie and Chibi, were healthy. It was time to open the door for the kids to come in. They were immediately drawn to the ducks, as were their parents. I explained what had happened to Gimpy and hoped it would get better. By lunch time, I had been holding Gimpy to help its leg placement. By the end of the day, helping Gimpy rehabilitate his leg paid off. He was finally able to walk on his own. The kids were able to interact with the cute baby ducks. We have a few more weeks with the duck before they go back to the farm. Thank you to all who helped make this happen!
My second year of teaching is coming to a quick end. I have been blessed with another great group of kids. Depending on the group, students can really make the year go by really slow or breeze by almost too quickly. I am sad to see this group go and have mixed feelings about the new group of 3 and four year olds in September. My goal on the last day of school is to say my goodbyes without crying. Last year, I could hold it together until I read a card from one of my students' parents. It was a really touching note. Every time I thought about it or looked at the student, I would tear up. I promise this year's end will be different! It has really been a great year. Looking back at how blessed I was with donorschoose.org this year, I only wished my first year students had the opportunity to enjoy the things my current students experienced. I plan to make each year better than the previous. Can't really get to the "Here" without starting from the bottom. Last year was defined by puppets inspired by Avenue Q and cardboard robot making projects. This year was the year of Donorschoose. What will define year three? As the year comes to an end, I can only describe my feelings as bittersweet. Sad to see my kids move on to kindergarten but extremely happy to start the Summer of Andy: Part 2. I've began running more and more now that the weather is warmer. Today is National Running Day. With our school having a few marathoners, e-mails were sent out to encourage people to run, regardless of experience. Seven faculty members showed up. The five regulars that make up our running club; Mr. Groff (principal), Mr. L (science), Ms. Mark (kindergarten science), Ms. Esther (kindergarten), and myself were joined by two new faces; Mr. Woodburn (3rd grade), and Ms. Tautonico (2nd grade). Summer of Andy: Part 2 has commenced with a strong start. I've decided to take the summer off again, only subbing for CAPA summer camp when I'm needed. Who knows if I'll ever decide to work the summer again. It's really nice to have off to work on myself. End of the summer brings the same bittersweet feeling. Sad to see the summer end, happy to start the new year, but also anxious about the new group. Will they be good? Will I have any crazy parents? Two good years, I'm due for a bad one, right? Hopefully, we'll go for the hat trick of good groups in this coming September.
It isn't the end just yet. We still have three weeks to go. I know it will breeze by fast. We're preparing for graduation, end of the year video packages are in the works, diplomas are being made, and caps are being measured. Before we know it, summer vacation will be here and the 2013-2014 Pre-K 108 kids will just be a memory of good times. I hope I've left a great impression on them. |
CategoriesAuthorCurrently in my eighth year of teaching Pre-K at an early childhood elementary school. Archives
October 2022
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