Julie-isms

One of the classes I teach is for young, fluent speakers. These are 1st and 2nd grade Korean kids who can communicate at an advanced level (even compared to American kids of the same age/grade).

I only have 2-4 kids in the class. One of the newer ones is Julie.

Julie is a really cute little girl. 1st grade. She is a more recent addition to the class, having transferred from another academy. She's a great speller, a super reader, and a real mental whip.

When she first came, her behavior wasn't so good however. We--she and I--have had to work on politeness: please, thank you, etc.

Then there are the times when maybe I displease her, or maybe she is just feeling naughty. Those times, she will look directly at me and say:

"Can you please be quiet, or I might lose my temper."

or

"You're bald."

The first few times I heard those types of comments I was completely floored. Now it has become a daily wondering, as in "What will she come up with next?" (These are the only students that I teach 5 days a week.)

The other day we had a sentence with "she's" in it, and, to make sure the students knew the difference between a comma and an apostrophe, I wrote "apostrophe" on the whiteboard.

Julie said, "I know how to spell that. I learned it at my last academy. This class is too easy!"

Needless to say I have learned much about patience, and have repeated to myself a number of times, "She's just a little girl, she is just a little girl."

Sometimes her pencil or eraser will fall off her desk. Shoes on the floor, feet up on her chair (because she is so little her feet will not reach the floor when she sits in a chair), she will glance at the fallen object and get a calculating look in her eyes. Then she'll look at me and say, "Can you get that for me please?"

"No, you need to pick up your own pencil."

"Why? I said 'please'."

I was never educated in child psychology, but working with kids in Korea has given me something close to a degree, I think, just as motherhood does for most women. Now, however, I feel like I am working on a 2nd master's degree.

Friday I found out shortly before class that I was going to have Julie alone, as the other students would be absent. I had just finished making a new game to play, but had to shelve it. What to do? A co-teacher said something that made me think, yes, I can work on Julie's reading.

Her reading is not bad. In fact it is good. Too good. She reads almost perfectly, but she reads too fast. I used to do reading races in the class, where I would time the kids with my watch, but I stopped doing that activity because Julie always won. She reads at about twice the rate of the other kids.

I had an insight.

In class I asked her to read two pages, and I timed her. She was super fast, and I congratulated her. Then I said, to make it a challenge, "That was 33 seconds. Do you think you can slow down and do it in 40 seconds? I know it will be hard, but . . ."

She took the bait.

It took 3 tries and a bit of coaching, but she did it. Then I slowed it down even more, with the promise of a special prize. 43 seconds.

Her reading was SO much better, and yes, she got the prize.

Again, I congratulated her, this time more sincerely.

She got that calculating look in her eyes. "Can you tell my mother?"

I said, "Yes, of course."

Then I said, expanding, "I can tell her that you read at different speeds and did a super job."

Her head tilted a bit and she thought for a few seconds. Then she said, "No, that's ok. Don't tell her."

"Why?" I replied, curious.

Julie said, "Because then I will have more homework because my mother will make me read many times."

The really good thing is that this child will undoubtedly become a world-class doctor or scientist someday, and I will know that I had a small part in her education.