The Saddest Day Ever.

Our school was blessed enough to have several practicum students in addition to the Americans. They tagged along with two of the English teachers, and taught a few classes. You know, the usual practicum stuff. What I don´t understand is how their university is structured, seeing as they were only here for less than a month.

 I thought they were pleasant enough. The girl, Rocío was rocker chic-esque, something the students openly debated "roc-her", "-ippie" or "go-tick" The other practicum, Alberto, was "full of knowledge" and tried to teach me about the contents of Spanish tortilla. You can imagine how well that went over.

Regardless, the two of them left last Friday. Some of the students drew cards, made posters, wrote "I love you" all over the blackboard. I thought this was all sweet and positive, I know I always appreciate little things like that.

However, I was not expecting the waterworks. I didn´t think fourth graders were capable of crying THAT much, I mean yeah you fall down you cry. Your best friend calls you a stupid head, you cry. But someone who you have known for less than a month, and you are crying as if they had passed away? Calm down little ones.

 I entered my first class, the one who had known Rocìo the best, and there were 2 or 3 students crying. The rest were looking around at eachother, and then looked up at me with sad puppy dog eyes. The teacher had calmed the class down, but once I took over the reigns the classroom became overcome with loud sobs and wheezes, tears, and nose blowing. I didn´t realize I had that effect on people. 

I decided that reading a funny book would be the perfect solution to this problem. I began reading a new rendition of "To Market, To Market" usually a sure thing for a few laughs... I mean the duck ends up in the dishwasher! I put on a good show for sure, but only got a half-smile from the students whose heads weren´t burrowed in their arms. 

I finished the book and decided to put on some music and let them make cards for Rocío. Figured that would be a nice calm activity whilst they get the sadness out of their system. WRONG. The students "worked" but most just sat at their desks crying, or making themselves cry. Those who weren´t crying were accused of being heartless by their peers and tried as hard as they could to cry.

I didn´t know what to do. I let the class progress for a while before we did a "Musical Flags" activity, but they even cried while doing that! I gave up, and breathed a deep sigh of relief when that class was over.

I went to lunch, told everyone the story to many disbelieving teachers. "Ohhh that´s just for the show, theater!", "They should win an Oscar!" Most definitely. I agreed with them all and laughed at what I THOUGHT to be a one-time thing.

 I moved on to the next fourth grade class, where I was informed that Rocío is leaving. Obviously I knew this, but they all wanted to tell me themselves, so I listened. The class was going like any other class, until Rocío entered, eyes red from crying.... Good grief... IMMEDIATELY the students start sobbing and running up to give her a hug. It was insanity. They also wanted her autograph. However, she only popped in for a second and left, so the crying didn´t drag on as it did in the previous class. However, one of the girls was crying so hard that her nose began to bleed. I kid you not. It was a river. I didn´t even realize it was possible for your nose to bleed from crying. Insane.

I left that class on a happy note, the girl took care of her nose, the kids had calmed down and were actually smiling. I felt good because I didn´t leave them in a state of sorrow.

I entered my 3rd and final 4th grade class to a room of red-eyes and sobbing. I looked at the teacher and he shook his head. The students started telling me that Rocìo was leaving... REALLY!? But did they all REALLY need to be crying? There was one student in the back corner who was not crying. He was laughing at the rest of his classmates. I thought that was really nice of him, so I pulled him aside and said he shouldn´t disrespect his classmates. He then got sad because I had pulled him aside. Whatever, at least he can join the ranks.

I thought maybe some movement, jumping around would work. We did a game which resulted in us sticking out our tongues, jumping, going in circles, etc... we looked like idiots. Yet despite all of this idiocry, there were still sobs echoing throughout the room. Some students were jumping up, tongues out, while tears rolled down their face.

I pulled out a Pigeon book, which involved a duck, a pigeon, and a hot dog. Usually it is a sure hit. Laughing. Excitement. This time, I was trying to entertain to a room of sobbing children.

 I eventually gave up and let the children cry it out. Those who wanted to were able to do microphones, "Interviews", but too many of them were sobbing uncontrollably that 1) You couldn´t hear those were doing the Interviews or 2) Those who decided they were ok to participate ended up with "What...wheeze..is..sniffle...your...hiccup...favorite......" with a dramatic pass off of the microphone.



I did decide upon one thing after this afternoon of theatrics. I am most definitely obligated to write to the Academy to let them know that there are a bunch of spanish children who definitely have a future in the film industry.