Rudolph

Six year old Jaime was raging. I could hear the screaming and crying as I came down the hall towards our classroom. It was lunchtime. Most of the students were out in the playground but Jaime had obviously been kept in, not an uncommon occurrence. Jaime had a hard time both accurately understanding what was said to him and using good sentences when speaking. It was faster sometimes to respond with his fists than to struggle to explain himself. The frustration was never very far away. I wondered what had happened this time?

I could also hear the calm murmurs of Donna, the teacher. Donna and I shared this classroom in an Ontario public school where we were responsible for nine severely language impaired students. Donna was a master teacher. Students blossomed under her care. She was particularly skilled when it came to helping children accept responsibility for their own behaviour and make better choices for themselves. I was learning so much from her about avoiding confrontation and fostering collaboration.

I entered the classroom quietly. I was surprised to see Jonathan, normally a quiet, cheerful student, standing across the room casting angry looks in Jaime’s direction. Jaime himself was standing in front of the Christmas mural the class had been busy creating. Santa, his sleigh and eight reindeer, headed proudly by Rudolph, had been flying across the front bulletin board. But Rudolph was no longer leading Santa’s sleigh. Jaime was standing at the front of the room. His little chest was heaving. His face was red and tear-streaked. Rudolph was in tatters on the floor. It was no mystery about who was responsible. Jaime himself was covered in red paint and large chunks of torn reindeer were clutched in his hands. Donna was calmly saying, “Jaime, you need to use your words. You need to tell me why you tore up Jonathan’s Rudolph. You were supposed to paint it.” This provoked a fresh torrent of tears and shrieks. “Use your words,” said Donna again. Jaime struggled to begin. “Him him say no, no, no.” shouted Jaime pointing accusingly at Jonathan. “Jonathan said ‘no’?” enquired Donna. Jaime took a deep breath and tried again. “Him say no, no good. It good! Me do it good!” Jaime insisted. “Did Jonathan say he did not like how you painted Rudolph?” guessed Donna. “ Yes”, said Jaime, with some relief. “But me do it right! It really, really good, and him say bad.” Jaime reported sadly. “O.K. Jaime. I understand you are angry, but you need to say ‘sorry’ to Jonathan for tearing his drawing.” Donna said firmly. Turning to Jonathan she said, “Jonathan, Jaime did his best and I am sure his painting was nice too. You need to say you are sorry to Jaime for saying his painting was not good.” Jonathan glared mutinously across the room and said hotly, “But he ruined my Rudolph! He painted him red all over.” Jaime’s voice rose once again as righteous indignation coloured his face, “Yeah! Me paint like the song say, ‘Rudolph-the-red-reindeer’!”

Donna and I quickly composed our faces as we realized the simple comprehension error which had led to Jaime’s current predicament. Apologies were made. Jaime and the ruined reindeer were cleaned up, and the boys went out to play. The mural was repaired and this year the Rudolph leading Santa’s sleigh did not just sport a red nose but was a beautiful red all over.