The First Thanksgiving – First Grade Style:
On the very first Thanksgiving, the Indians had dinner with the Canadians (or maybe my students meant the Canadiens, which makes it quite possible the first Thanksgiving included ice hockey). The Canadians sailed to America on the Cauliflower, then they all had dinner together.
This is the official version of events here in the Magic Tree House. You possibly did not know some of these very important and factually accurate details. But the kids swear they are true, so they must be. Who am I to argue??
The week of Thanksgiving is just a notch below Christmas in terms of hyperactive pandemonium. It was crafting chaos! We had a glue and googly-eye Lollapalooza goin’ on. We were whippin’ out turkeys made of every imaginable substance like you can’t believe. We made handmade My Blessings books and we even remembered our feathered friends with pine cone and peanut butter bird feeders. The only trick was keeping the darlings from licking the peanut butter off of the pine cones. Little hand printed messages declared that, “Birds need a feast too!” By the time the closing bell rang on Wednesday, the Magic Tree House looked like a ravaged ladies department after a sale at Macy’s. There were bits of construction paper, slopped bird seed, and half-dried glue globs on the surfaces of everything.
Really, what is my problem? I have the hardest time keeping my classroom neat and orderly. You know it’s bad when the janitor comes in to vacuum and is overheard giving her vacuum cleaner pep talks. I mean, there are days it’s BAD.
I really felt like a failure when I walked over to the second grade classroom to deliver some papers and gaped at the absolute pristine condition of that classroom. Not one thing out of place. How does she do it?
My room is in a constant state of mild dishevel. Sometimes in the summer months, a Dirt Devil, which is a weak wind vortex, will pick up a handful of dust from an open field and expose itself in the air with it. They are very cool to witness and pose absolutely no danger. My room often looks as if a Dirt Devil took a swipe at my shelves and bookcases. I am not a messy person; really I’m not. I don’t know what my problem is… I will keep self-analyzing on that and get back to you.
Somewhere in the course of our week of Thanksgiving Fever, I mentioned the turkey wishbone to my students. Most had no idea what it was and none had ever heard of my childhood tradition of breaking the wishbone with someone else. Because my sister and I were the only children in our family for so long, there was no fighting over who got the wishbone. We would give it an hour or so after the feast to dry a bit, then each of us would grab one end of it, pull until it broke in half, and whoever ended up with the larger piece got to make a wish (get it? WISH bone????)
My students were enthralled. They LOVE making wishes! Wishbone! Wishbone! Wishbone….
The conversation turned to other important topics and the wishbone concept was forgotten. Or so I thought.
Near the end of the day, Little Sallie Sue approached me with her usual 100 watt grin. “Mrs. Dahl, guess what I’m going to wish for?” I had to think for a moment as to what she was referring. Ah yes, I’m tracking with you now, Sallie Sue. What will you wish for? She comes close to me and wants to whisper in my ear. I smile. There is no one standing anywhere near us, but little girls make anything a secret, don’t they? I love that about little girls.
I bend down so that her State Secret is delivered safely into my ear. Her breath is warm and sweet on my cheek. “I’m going to wish for my very own library in my room.” Wow, I hadn’t seen THAT coming. I was prepared for Barbie Beach House, or a real, live unicorn, or something else fitting for a wish. A library? I look into her shining eyes and she is beaming. She’s not finished. I bend close again. “And I want my library filled with science books so I can become a scientist when I grow up.”
My Reader, I do not exaggerate when I tell you that I could have died on the spot and felt I had lived a full and rich life.
If she could have anything at all in the World of Impossible, she wants her very own library filled with science books? My heart was beating just a little faster as my own eyes filled with joy. “That is a wonderful thing to wish for! I LOVE that you want your own library filled with science books. But do you know that you already ARE a scientist?” Puzzlement crossed her face as she considered my words. “No I’m not,” she declared. “Oh yes you are, my luv. If you ask “why” and “what” questions, and seek the answers, you ARE a scientist. You don’t need to wait to grow up to be one.” The grin that broke across her face was a sight to behold.
Here’s what I hope on the Thanksgiving Night:
I hope Sallie Sue got the bigger end of the wishbone and told her parents about her wish. I have little doubt that they would dearly love to foster the career dreams of knowledge-thirsty girl. And I hope she grows up to become a scientist.
This is exactly what I signed up for -- nudging the love and pursuit of knowledge in young children. The Fill and Drill method of education works to a certain degree. Most of us were taught with that methodology. But few end up becoming true lifelong learners.
If I had the wishbone tonight, I would wish that eight adorable, precious, turkey-making first graders would love learning new things, and seek knowledge their entire lives.
Knowing one of them is well on her way is enough for today.
(Happy Thanksgiving!)
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