2nd grade story

Tears were shed in one of my classes.

One of the girls, let's call her Jen, is the most popular girl in the entire school. She's mixed (Western/Thai), so that automatically makes you more popular here. Plus, she's kind, socially and mentally intelligent, a great singer, and assertive. She has a bunch of lackey's that basically follow her around the school.

Anyhow, in class, I was going over the idea of ______has a _______. I would let the students fill in the blanks, then draw a picture of their sentence. One of the sentences they created was, "Jen has a pencil," and one of Jen's lackeys, Ploy, came up to draw a picture.

Well, this lackey happens to have a sense of humor, and started drawing Jen with big, buggy eyes. Jen gave a look of extreme perturbation. Ploy didn't notice, and moved straight to the mouth, where she drew a goofy smile and massive buckteeth. The fact that Jen's real face was now permanently buried in her forearms tipped me off that she wasn't in on the joke, so I told Ploy to stop, and quickly erased the HILARIOUS picture.

I changed the sentence to _____is in a_______ and asked for the another student to fill in the blank. Jen's most adoring lackey, Wan, quickly shot her hand up with "Ploy." When I asked for the next blank, she whirled around, shot a look of venom at Ploy, and said a word in Thai. I have no idea what it meant, but I don't think it was nice. I definitely didn't ask Wan to draw a picture of the sentence.

The rest of class, I could see the a look of regret in Ploy's eyes. She had dared to poke at the holy socially status of Queen Jen, and could sense the social scorn.

I taught a bit more, then worksheet time came along. Thankfully, Ploy and Jen are excellent students, so they whizzed through their worksheets. I walked over to Ploy and asked her how she felt about the picture she drew of Jen.(Thank God she spoke some English). She sorrowfully said that she thought it was just a joke, and informed me that she was sorry. She affirmed that she wanted to apologize to Jen, so I called Jen over. As Ploy apologized, her eyes welled up with cleansing tears, and she soon deteriorated to the point that she could only nod or shake her head.

I finished off the ritual by letting Melanie know that when she was sad, Ploy was sad. (I should have yelled at Wan, and made her apologize too, but that occurred to me too late.)

As I walked into school the next day, I saw Ploy and Jen playing together---all anger and sorrows forgotten---I love the transient sadness of little kids. In some ways the story shows how grown up they are. The seven year olds share kindred needs and insecurities with twenty-five year olds. But they forget their worries and animosities much quicker, and their spirit always drifts back towards joy.