When I was younger, the scariest thing to deal with was the monsters under the bed. Now, the scariest thing children have to deal with are the real monsters, in the real world. I came across a writing prompt on Pinterest © this evening and it made me realise that I am a monster under the bed. This will make more sense once you’ve read it…
When my class were in year one, they had many teachers who came and left. They had a very unsettled year with many different teachers. I like to think that I gave them the consistency and security that they needed from a teacher, or monster under the bed, when they became my class in year two. I wasn’t sure how long I would last, personally. I originally had bets that I too, would only last a term, but apparently it was to be longer than the supposed 10 month sentence a teacher usually serves with a class! Either I’m crazy or I’m foolish. One thing that I do know is that I am stubborn and resilient to an extreme limit. I will put up with a lot before I give up on something.
I constantly talk about the children that I teach as ‘my children’ even though, technically, biologically, they aren’t. (Thank goodness with some of them too.) Even the unruly, unmannered and undesirable ones are mine, not yours! I am so overly protective of them though, that I know I would, absolutely, cry with anger, if I ever discovered that a child was in severe danger at home and nothing was in the process of being done about it. Luckily, I haven’t experienced this, enormously, in my teaching career, yet. Hopefully, I’ll never have to. I’ll probably need a rugby scrum to hold me back that day. (I hope you are proud of my rugby reference! See I do listen to your rugby talk, sometimes! 😂)
This writing prompt has made me think. If I gave my children the opportunity to write about the monster under their bed, what would they write about? I’ll have plenty of yellow forms ready, just in case, but it could be interesting to see what they are scared of. Maybe if I did an example of my own and shared my monster under the bed, they might be more imaginative … we’ll see.
My monster scuttles around under my bed, waiting for me to drift off to sleep. When I’m on the precipice of a deep slumber, it uses one of its eight, long, hairy legs to tickle my face so that I jerk awake. Sometimes, when I’m in the middle of a lovely dream, it nudges me in a way that makes my brain think that I might be falling over the edge of a tall cliff. I jolt up and realise that I am safe in my bed. If my feet get too hot, under the duvet, I seldom risk dangling one foot over the edge of the bed to cool down, just in case it pulls me under the bed frame and eats me alive, or feeds me to it’s thousands of starving spiderlings. What a terrifying ordeal that would be!
I doubt any of my children would remember to include an exclamation at the end, even if it was in their steps to success for the writing task…probably not even if I offered a house point or merit to those who remembered. I wish my class enjoyed writing as much as I do.