We have been working on a fairly large poster project for the last few days, and today the kids were finally done with the drafting phase and ready for the actual poster making materials.
My first year teaching, these kinds of projects were a disaster. My supplies consisted of a rag-tag assortment of used colored pencils and any markers I could find. Half the markers were running out of ink, and some of the colored pencils were worn down to itty bitty nubs. It was such a mess that last year I used all my teacher-choice moola on art supplies for the classroom.
This year I took it a step further and created station boxes for each of my tables. I know, here comes the nerd…
Each box has sets of skinny and fat markers, colored pencils, crayons, scissors, and lots of glue sticks. The boxes are numbered, there’s a list of the contents taped to the top of the lid and the tables have to nomitate a supply leader to keep track of their supplies and keep the box organized. It might be anal, but it works like a charm.
They’ve used these boxes a whole bunch of times already this year, but they still get all excited and riled up when I let them come collect the boxes from my ‘teacher closet’. It must be something about the fact that I keep them in my closet…it makes them ‘special’.
The kids were buzzing away at their tables when I happened to notice Twitch.
The glue sticks were brand new and each one came sealed with a plastic wrapping. Twitch was unwrapping all of his table’s sticks and kept exclaiming, “Aarrgghhh!!! I ripped it again!”
I kept watching him and he eventually managed to get one of the wrappers off without tearing it apart. He then meticulously rolled it up into a very tight tube and proceeded to glue it all together.
Now, I have a bit of a peeling and rolling habit (things like the top layers of coasters, beer labels, gum wrappers etc), it’s a fidgety hand thing that I had even before I quit smoking so I sort of get it that he wanted to play with the plastic. I just let him be and continued to circulate around the room.
After a while I started hearing some giggles coming from across the room and I headed over to investigate. I get to the disruptive table where I find Twitch, happily bouncing around in his seat. As he turns to look up at me I realize he has gluesticked the plastic wrapper to his upper lip. He stared up at me, puckering his mouth so as to help his newly acquired moustache stay put. “Yes Miss?” he asked.