It Breaks My Heart

One of my classes of elementary students, 2nd or 3rd grade, is a great one. They have very good English skills for Korean kids their age, but, more than that, from a teacher's viewpoint, they are simply really nice kids. Sweet, but not syrupy-sweet (they do have some failings).

One of the students in this class (6 students) last week failed a test. She, I'll call her Lisa, is a smart girl. Maybe 8 years old. Usually she doesn't get involved with the rest of the class, kind of hangs out on the margin, though she is accepted by them. Lisa's quiet, perhaps bored, perhaps disinterested. I haven't quite figured it out yet.

But Lisa failed the test when she has always (in my almost two months here) done very well. And she started crying. Scrunched up her test paper in one little fist, held her other hand across her face, leaned down on her desk, and quietly cried.

I immediately tried to see if a few comforting words could solve the crisis. No, not that easy.

Back to the other 5 students, I sought to wrap up the class and assign their homework so I could deal with the crying girl.


"Teacher, Lisa is crying" another girl pointed out, softly (bless her). Thank you, I know that, but you are a great person for caring enough to tell me.

The next day, I was informed that Lisa's mom had called, interested in learning more about what was going on. Not angry, thankfully, just concerned.

The mom also showed up the next day, shortly before Lisa's class. Now, I have to say that I go out of my way to avoid mothers; they are looking out for their kids above all else, I can't really communicate with them, and I don't want to get involved in the business side of my academy (they are paying for education, after all, and want to demand the best).

Lisa seemed a bit put off that her mom was there (what kid wouldn't?) but she took the retest, passed with flying colors, and was smiling after.