Transitions can be tough. Be it starting at a new school, getting a new teacher, or experiencing the\u00a0change in seasons, going from the familiar to the unknown can yield uncertainty, confusion, and strife.\u00a0For the third graders at the Indianapolis Academy of Excellence, one of the toughest transitions of the\u00a0day was going back inside at the end of recess. In the midst of cut-throat\u00a0competitions for first place\u00a0in line, students convinced that recess would continue all day due to their sheer will power, and attitudes\u00a0surprisingly and impressively well developed for\u00a0third graders, it appeared that getting them to cool\u00a0down at the end of recess would be my biggest challenge as a coach this year. Some days it would take\u00a0nearly four minutes to get the class\u00a0lined up, quiet, and ready to engage in lessons about amphibians\u00a0and ancient Romans. This transition seemed particularly daunting to J.R.W., who would frequently\u00a0throw himself to the\u00a0ground and refuse to stand up, let alone go inside pondering the mysteries of Julius\u00a0Caesar.<\/p>\n
As I blew my whistle twice one day, signaling the end of recess and the beginning of the third graders\u2019 time to collect all the equipment, I wondered how the transition would go. That day was, unfortunately, no exception to the norm. I turned around to find J.R.W. laying on his stomach on the ground in between others awkwardly attempting to line up around him. He was kicking his feet and banging his fists on the ground, shouting something unintelligible with such force that it quieted even the most talkative in the bunch. After several unsuccessful attempts to encourage him to stand up and join us in a cheer, the screaming took on a new decibel. I tried my best to lead a rousing chorus of \u201cLittle Red Wagon\u201d over him. Despite the catchy rhythms of the exclusive red wagon, J.R.W.\u2019s screaming had transformed into a mixture of yelling, wailing, and shouting. I lead the class through some deep breathing and then walked over to stand beside J.R.W., who was still laying on the ground.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhich tactic to use\u2026\u201d I wondered, \u201cEmpathy? Authoritative? Apathy?\u201d I had tried all three with him before, and still hadn\u2019t quite figured out which would be successful with him. I chose silence. I knelt by him as the class walked around him and headed across the street with their teacher. I waited and took a few deep breaths, noisily, so he could hear and join in on my rhythm. It only took a few leading breaths to get him to join in. As we breathed together, his transformation was visible: his shoulders relaxed, his jaw unclenched, his fists were no longer balled up. He was, in effect, a third grader again, who was just having a hard time.<\/p>\n
\u201cJ.R.,\u201d I asked him (I chose empathy). \u201cWhat would get you excited about lining up at the end of recess?\u201d<\/p>\n
He was quiet for a few moments. \u201cI wrote a cheer,\u201d he said quietly. His voice was small.<\/p>\n
I was shocked. This was a kid that would come up to me afterschool and say, \u201cI don\u2019t like you.\u201d This was a kid who would roll his eyes during every cheer (or worse). This was a kid whose favorite adjective to describe my game choices was \u201cstupid.\u201d This was now, apparently, a kid who wrote his own cheer? Come again?<\/p>\n
\u201cYou wrote a cheer?! That\u2019s great, J.R.! I\u2019d love to hear it. Can you teach it to me afterschool today, so we can do it after recess tomorrow?\u201d<\/p>\n
Immediately, he clenched his fists and started beating the ground again. The open, vulnerable third grader was gone and in his place emerged a kid who has probably had his heart broken from people (adults) breaking promises to him more times than he can count.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re lying! You won\u2019t do that. You\u2019re just saying that to get me to go inside so you don\u2019t have to\u00a0deal with me anymore. You don\u2019t actually care,\u201d he shouted before screaming \u201cyou hate me!\u201d<\/p>\n
I gave him a second to breathe and then responded (shifting to firm, borderline authoritative voice at\u00a0this point): \u201cJ.R., I\u2019m coming to your classroom afterschool today to learn your cheer.\u00a0We\u2019ll do it\u00a0tomorrow after recess. I promise.\u201d<\/p>\n
It took us a few more backandforths\u00a0of him not believing I would actually go, and me telling him I\u00a0would be there, that I don\u2019t break promises. I told him that I cared about him, and that I would show\u00a0him that by keeping my promise. He still seemed doubtful when we met up with the rest of his class\u00a0(they had crossed the street). I felt his protective instincts and previous\u00a0experiences screaming at him\u00a0not to trust me, but I also saw a spark of hope, and curiosity, in his eyes. He went inside, and I sent his\u00a0teacher, Miss Evans, a text message (how the\u00a0teachers and administration communicate at my school),\u00a0asking her if I could come in at the end of the day and for what purpose. She was on board\u00a0immediately.<\/p>\n
When the principal announced the day\u2019s end via the intercom that afternoon, I grabbed my clipboard and headed to the third grade class. J.R.W. was looking down when I walked in, and I will never forget his expression when he saw I had come for him. His eyes lit up, his smile stretched across his whole face, and in a squeaky third grade voice he exclaimed, \u201cyou came!\u201d To which I replied, \u201cI told you I would. Come teach me that cheer?\u201d<\/p>\n
We sat down together in their classroom while the other students were packing up their backpacks and asking last minute questions about homework due the next day.<\/p>\n
His cheer was amazing:<\/p>\n
We are third grade we are proud
\nWe are third grade sing it loud
\n1-2\u00a0We will focus!
\n3-4\u00a0We will listen!
\nWhen it\u2019s time to go inside
\nWe will get in line
\nSound off, we will focus!
\nSound off, we will listen!
\nWe will put our bubbles* in (*they put \u201cbubbles in their mouths\u201d to keep them from talking)
\nThen we\u2019ll go right on in<\/p>\n
I was blown away. I gave him high fives and told him how impressed with him I was. I thanked him for\u00a0being so involved. I told him he was awesome, and that I couldn\u2019t wait to do his cheer\u00a0the next day at\u00a0recess, once everyone was lined up and quiet. He was ecstatic: \u201creally? We can actually do my cheer?\u00a0You actually think it\u2019s good?\u201d He seemed incredulous. \u201cYes, J.R.,\u00a0it\u2019s amazing. And yes we can do it at\u00a0recess tomorrow. Do you believe me?\u201d He nodded his head yes.<\/p>\n
Everyday afterschool I go outside and say goodbye to the students and their families, offering high 5s and telling the parents when their children go above and beyond during recess or class game time. I had rewritten J.R.W.\u2019s cheer on a nice sheet of colored paper and mounted it to give to his mom, and I was extremely excited. So excited, in fact, that I told the principal about it (he also stands outside to greet the parents at the end of the day). When J.R.W. and his mom passed us, Mr. Burleson congratulated and high5\u2019d J.R.W. I explained his accomplishment to his mom and gave her the copy of the cheer. She wanted J.R. to do the cheer for Mr. Burleson and her. He was feeling shy and asked me to join in. We sang his cheer then and there for the two of them, who clapped and congratulated him. Then I got to hear my favorite words from a parent\u2019s mouth: \u201cI am so proud of you, J.R.\u201d She was beaming. She looked at me and said, \u201cit\u2019s so nice to hear good news from teachers!\u201d<\/p>\n
When I greeted the third graders the following day before their recess began, I told them about J.R.W.\u2019s cheer and challenged them to line up as quickly as possible so they could experience it. They lined up in less than 30 seconds that day. Unprecedented.<\/p>\n
Transitions can be tough. Yet as we begin to break down the barriers that kids put up to protect themselves from disappointment, we begin to see transformation. As kids come to realize that you\u2019ve got their back, that you\u2019re rooting for them, and that you see their gifts and talents, they start to let you in. That\u2019s where the magic happens. Writing a cheer means taking ownership of your recess, engaging with your classmates in a situation where everyone can be successful, and it means going out of your comfort zone. A student that feels safe taking healthy risks like these begins to take healthy risks in other areas of life: speaking up in class, inviting a new friend to play, asking for help when needed. Confidence is a game changer. These life skills learned at\u00a0recess transcend the playground and infiltrate all areas of a student\u2019s life, from the classroom to the kitchen table, and beyond.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Transitions can be tough. Be it starting at a new school, getting a new teacher, or experiencing the\u00a0change in seasons, going from the familiar to the unknown can yield uncertainty, […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":33,"featured_media":960,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"region":[],"class_list":["post-15","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-updates"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\n