Kathy Rohloff:
My Secret Teacher’s Pet

Over a period of several years, I taught school. Because I oversaw third and fourth graders, I was very aware of how impressionable they were, and wanted them to have a good school experience. I still have vivid memories of shouting, berating, and mustached teachers; and I’m only speaking of some of the female ones.

I also remember how demoralizing it was to be in a classroom with the teacher’s pet. The unfairness still rankles of all the extra privileges meted out to that individual. So how do I, as a teacher in a classroom of 13, avoid having a pet?

It goes without saying that there are some children who are endearing. The lisps, the large eyes, the tilted smiles, mussed up hair, and general air of disarray gets me every time. And for me, this is usually personified in little boys.

One young boy, who made the sandwiches for his four siblings each day, always had a fine sheen of mustard on his hands, shirt, and face. Enchanting! Another young lad aspired to be a tattoo artist, if the amount of red ink drawings on his arms were any indication of a future career. Again, delightful!

As you can see, I had a natural inclination toward little boys, so how was I to avoid having a pet?

The answer came to me simply, "Make everyone feel special." So this is what I did.

I would choose two helpers each day to assist me in the classroom. Their duties included sharpening pencils, passing out papers, collecting papers, picking up papers, running errands, ringing the bell, picking the recess game, erasing the board, cleaning the erasers, and anything else that I could possibly think of. I tell you this was a highly prized job for those third and fourth graders, and I made it count.

The other thing I did was compliment each child two times every day. I had a sheet on my desk where I recorded the grades next to each student’s name. Because I would often cover 8-10 subjects daily, this saved me time transferring the grades to my record book.

After I had complimented a child I would put a star next to his/her name. And I would do this for each child making sure that everyone received two words of praise. The compliments were varied: "Boy, Joshua, you did really well on your flash cards." "Anna, you’re reading with a lot of expression." "Ben does a great job cleaning erasers." "Grace, you picked a fun game for recess."

It’s a lot of effort to remember to say positive things to 13 busy and boisterous, sluggish and slothful, moody and mischievous youngsters. But it paid off.

I overheard one of my students on the playground talking with two youngsters from another class.

"Our teacher has favorites," I heard the first child say.

"Yeah, and I’m one of them," the second child added.

Looking at Joe, the first one said, "How about your teacher? Does she have favorites?"

The second child continued in a sneering voice, "Are you one?"

Joe stretched to his full height (he was the smallest in the class), staunchly stuck out his chest and announced, "Our teacher doesn’t have any favorites. She likes us all!"

That did my heart good. And Joe, right now I must confess, in my heart of hearts, you were my favorite.

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