Meet My Students, Part II

I introduced you to some of my students in my last post, and thought I should get around to the next batch. I’ll start with the students I had last year. (And no, they did not fail preschool. Because the roster wasn’t full in August, the school admitted newly-turned three year olds in January. Now they are three-and-a-half and so not yet old enough for the next class).

Some of you may remember Sean, the main character of a gross anecdote I e-mailed upon request, its contents too graphic for me to post on the blog. Thank goodness he is now fully toilet trained. Sean is like a puppy, a golden-haired, yappy, giggly, nuzzly puppy boy. Today he told me, "Ms. Sawa, I was dwiving to kindermusik and I saw you wunning. You were wunning on the on the woad. You should wun on the gwass!" So busted.

I wouldn’t know if Janelle is a night owl, but her morning time grumpiness is more fitting for a teenager than a three year old. She is blindly affectionate and encounters with her often leave me feeling border-line violated. Physically she is the epitome of a Dutch girl stereotype and her father is so tall that on family reading night, while reading the book Actual Size by Steven Jenkins (a non-fiction picture book of size superlatives in the animal kingdom), I had him stand on his toes with his arms over his head to depict the approximate height of an Alaskan brown bear.

Esther is actually just old enough to move to the next class but since her family is moving to Tanzania today
:( and she would only be in the class a month, her mother preferred she stay with me. I spent a good portion of last year holding this crying, mopey child. This year she was far more independent and I kind of missed the snuggling (and her constant German babbling before she sucked it up and tried speaking in English).

Jenna is South African by birth and has the lovliest New Zealand accent she picked up from her adoptive mother. She is just about the happiest, easiest, squishiest child, and it's just my luck that I only have her in my class a short time while her mother is working here temporarily from South Africa.

Palesa is the baby of the school and she knows it. She’s the youngest, tiniest, most awkwardly running person on campus. No one can resist scooping her up, especially when she cries . . .and especially the particularly heartbreaking variety of weeping in which tears roll soundlessly down her cheeks.

Kevin’s crying is a little more resistible. He prefers an ear-splitting screech to using words. His language development is quite delayed so it’s understandable, and he’s obviously used to having his screeches responded to at home. When he’s not screeching, he has the smiliest face. . . and some pretty cool robot-esque dance moves.

Kabelo: Class Biter.