It’s easy numbers: 35 cabbages, artichokes 40, it’s clear, it’s childish, it is within the reach of any minister. But that is not childish or human, it’s not that these numbers as there are little creatures. Not the ecoliers- to-read-write-count, but small men to train. I also put do my business homework
myself angry about the number 27. But when I saw, instead of the impersonal numbers, this abstraction, this characteristic of a group there were 29 personalities, so I did not see things the, same way.
My wrath has fallen and now up now my grief. BASIC COURSE 2 No, I do not cry on my EC2. Fortunately, they had reached the landing, they had passed the creeping, cover-ups, the trainements on the floor.
They are standing firmly planted on their legs, and they walk right. I got them for two years already and I could wash their childhood. Also, the morning of October they are straight, frank, clear, clear, open, clean.
No, I do not cry on my EC2. At least on my old last year. For I am an alumnus of the year before. A boy who has been missing for a year, the time of his EC1, and saw his parents during this time of complete blur and eventually separate. If I pity him for having left Tregastel, it is because I had been a year.
I do not put at all question his master last year. Whatever its value and working conditions, he could do nothing because you have to have the children two years to hand them up. And I, in the beginning of CE2, I found that even James CP some might treat sneaky, pigheaded, stubborn, secretive, defiant, rude, messy, dirty …
He never looks me in the face, but always from the corner of the eye. He watches me, he spies me caliber me he judge me – With Bwec, is it possible, is what we can dare to be ourselves, are we really can do without a mask? This is his tragedy, or rather his dramas weigh him again and place it in life by cantilever.
Eh! Well, this boy is so wrong party, and who will do what in life, it breaks my heart to know that I might have something for him, if I could, before it’s too late placed in him happiness minimum below which it is not balanced life possible. And you know, I’m not a great guy, a psychotherapist, a rehabilitator. No, no, nothing like that. What I do is very easy: simply allow the child to engage, to join to read.
He asks only that. Just a few listens. Alas, this year I will be deprived of this happiness: I’m not going to give this James on his feet. And if I regret it for me, I regret it for him; because I have other compensations. Not him.
I will probably be nothing for him, I feel paralyzed, bound by the lack of time. I take it back almost to zero, already a bit too old. And he did not receive our blessings of the past year. With 29 students, I will not be able to reconstruct the climate, the atmosphere so delicious in my class where everyone could be true.
It might be enough that I can talk to him 10 seconds a day. Yes, true ten seconds 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10, not seconds figuratively. There I would have to ask my eyes on his eyes, I tell a joke correcting his text a “come”, “property”, a “you’re making progress,” an “it gets better,” a “then you had a cabin with Jacques, “” a wish, it’s fun your text “, a” hey, you go to a new track. ” But where would I find the time to ten seconds to James?
You will say: – Ten seconds is however little. But these are ten full seconds to master, detached for this time of her class: 10 seconds total presence where nothing exists that boy. And I have seven more readings to ensure seven stones, seven French seven writings …
Where would I find the time? – Yes Yes. You have to, you see, you’re going to make this effort. – But my EC1, EC1 my !! BASIC COURSE I My real work of each year, the EC1, EC2’s has passed the storm, I can let it sail. All year the PC, I eat the children at the base and in EC1, I can bring down the evil started scaffolding and help rebuild new balances.
In the interest of school results themselves, I have to take care of all individuals, – Is he also in this EC1 children who have problems or problem children? This is what I must first ask me at the beginning of each year. If so – and it’s always yes – my first task is it does not settle in the cracks that surrounds them so they can reach a hand, a foot, a head, and then the whole body?
Delivering first those that are tight; those who say: – My father digs snow with a slice: it takes my head, he takes my hand, it cuts me the other hand, it cut my feet and I can not move. I think it’s mostly six to eight years that can really something. For what reasons?
Because for five years, the child fumbled in terms of spoken language. And he has acquired sufficient knowledge to express directly or through the band, deep drama. Correspondingly, the written language starts.
Here it goes much faster because the benefits from it can reinvest spoke. And we can, in no time, access the same level of control. Which already endow the child of two tools of expression. However, this is not all: free singing, drawing, modeling, dancing add to the array. The child can choose. – Later, would it be better?
Mastering would it not higher? – If course. But the child would then be further from the dramas of his early childhood. Willingly or unwillingly, he would have had to deal with them. He would have had to find a life technique to live with it by burying it deep within himself, and using different detachment techniques, escape from reality, trailing other refuge in the disease, tics, passivity or aggression.
And they have already started to register more deeply in behavior. Let my EC1. – Ah! My Daniel, for you, I’m very quiet.
Your sponsor is a farmer; you often go home and it offers you the use-barrier nature. Almost small farmer, you are well balanced and easily read will pass through the vicissitudes of life. But immediately after, it’s Joel, my poor Joel to write disheveled, shaggy character.
Joel poor who has four sisters and a fierce exceeded mother, and who is doing by loneliness, slyness, blows gently, pinching behind, concealed chuckles and “vicious” tickets. Naturally, he has everyone against him and he receives in the courtyard, beatings of beatings; which does not seem to improve. Yet that Joel was on. His head was recovered significantly, his writing was going to land.
He went back, definitely. And I felt that between him and me, it was going to be direct communication. Ah! if you saw his lyrics full of drama! “All the houses are flooded and all ambulances in all countries.
And in all the forests, the trees fall by storm. Wolves are hungry, they run, they run. ” – Yes, Joel, my hungry, come on, people drowning, drowning all who make you misery and all those who, like you, are miserable and have nothing to do on this earth. And then, you might have heard the birds sing.
Alas, Joel, my Joel, I’m 29 students! And I can not put my hand on your head, then, just when it should. Looking up from my reading of small, I can no longer cross your eyes and again pass my benevolent friendship.
I can no longer give you thirty seconds every day that you needed to you, You shall have more every day that half-minute of true affection you beneficiais last year. This is especially for you I weep for the boy through and you’re the kind of person you will become, I was your only chance, your only recourse. It is you who have the most need me and that could make the largest not all. Alas, if there was James and Joel!
But the other boys need as much my concern. Just look a little on them to notice. Philippe ah! Philippe my so terribly disrupted last year by the absence of his mother and also filled his texts disasters. “He was screaming and no one came to his rescue. But the goat jumped on the mother wolf and died. ” “The wind blows as he can.
Wooden houses collapsed but not the brick houses. ” Your mom came back, Philip. But there is still work to do to make you recover your serenity. There are still mopping.
Already, the wolves of your texts are less terrible and they increasingly often from below. The forest would be cleared. And now, in the storms, there are brick houses. And who resist.
It was coming, it was close. Already your writing was rounded, your spelling is normalized, your face subsided, your mannerisms and your grimaces became scarce and in the yard, you were less aggressive and less assaulted. And you Xavier, suffered two sisters; you little bundle of joy and yet the elder, the elder vilified.
You suck your thumb to hurt you in the stomach.