“A ten year old spitfire who doesn’t care about his education” was my first idea about Benny when I walked into Mrs. Slaughter’s class. “Don’t judge a book by its cover” is the perfect quote that sums up my now, final impression about this child.
I happened to find my seat a few feet away from Benny’s table on that very first day. I remember how he looked at me as if I was another hurdle for him to jump over. I have to admit my first impressions of this child were not the best. However, Benny did his personal best to mask who he really was. Benny truly became a common name to my pen and paper, for whenever math time came around I couldn’t stop writing about him.
He really gave me a show on my very first day at Howe Elementary. Mrs. Slaughter was explaining fractions to the class. After a summarization by the entire class to show they had the facts down pat, she noticed Benny’s head on his desk; I could see the target on his back. “Benny! What’s the answer to problem number five?” He said, “Eight divided by four is thirty.” The class squirmed and she swung around to write out the problem, they knew this could be a while. Benny fidgeted in his seat as she was explaining the math concepts to him. Out of breath, Mrs. Slaughter turned and pointed the chalk toward him, “So Benjamin, eight divided by four is now…” Benny twisted his neck toward the board and yelled out, “seventy-two!” I heard a few slaps on foreheads and groaning from others, I almost felt the same emotion. Why wasn’t he paying attention? Was his mind on something else? This was my first look at this child, and I was sure there were more stories to come.
Of course I wasn’t let down by Benny; I liked to think of it as a game we played with each other. Benny knew I was trying to figure him out, and every once in a while he’d throw a clue down for me to find. The following week I had a front row seat to view the fourth grade testing. Benny, of course, was my most telling subject. The test had already been in progress for about five minutes, and Benny was still trying to position himself just perfectly for this long “brain-draining” excursion. He finally settled after Mrs. Slaughter had told him to “…calm down, keep your chin up, and stay strong.”
I walked around the room to get a glimpse at the testing style and difficulty in math. Based on what I knew these students were learning, I decided that it wasn’t too difficult to grasp. I walked up to see the question Benny had just finished. “Which number is 67?” Benny had marked the wrong answer, he hadn’t even thought of turning his book around. Why was this question difficult for him? I assumed it would be in his rational thought process to realize these numbers were upside down, and turning the book around would be the simple solution. He continued without looking back at the answer.
I began thinking that maybe it was the lack of good preparation for these children. Yes, teachers should overview facts and functions, but what about critical thinking and reasoning? I saw so many mistakes that children knew the answers to; they just weren’t able to analyze the questions properly. Can this be a skill that can be learned or is it simply something you have or have not? Is this then an instructor’s fault in preparation? I continued trying to figure out where Benny was in this mess of intelligence levels. Did he have it in him?
I glanced over and saw Benny using his cutout shapes as a train. He chugged them across the table and used his pencil as a train block. Mrs. Slaughter gave the five-minute warning, but I assumed he had already finished. I got up and saw something bewildering on Benny’s test; there was nothing after question thirty-four. He still had sixteen questions to go and he had given up. Or had he? Maybe Benny didn’t realize the importance of this test, or maybe he had forgotten to turn the page over and he had assumed he was finished. While other students reviewed already finished problems, Benny continued with his train. This was only my second week, and in a sense I had already seen too much from this boy, where was I supposed to go with all of these questions? Did Benny know the significance of this test? Did he think it was just another assessment that he didn’t care about? What if Benny did care and he was giving it his best shot? I started doubting myself and began thinking that Benny was giving it his all.
Mrs. Slaughter gave me so much information over the next few visits. It was funny how this fuzzy picture became even fuzzier for me. Where did Benny come from every day? Does he have a good family life? She revealed news that upset me, not at Benny, but for Benny. His father, the only male figure in his entire life, was sent to prison in late August before school had begun. Benny talked about his dad sometimes but never to an extent that would open the door for questions. From then on, whenever Mrs. Slaughter brought up the subject of parents or guardians, I would always find Benny turning his focus to something else. Then I had a realization that made my stomach turn. When the class was learning about fractions earlier Benny hadn’t been paying attention. This spitfire was doing nothing more than protecting himself. Mrs. Slaughter was using family as denominators and certain members as numerators. Of course eight divided by four was thirty or seventy-two. Benny didn’t want to listen; it might have hurt too much.
My attention was shifted toward Benny’s writing for the next few visits. I was curious to see if Benny neglected writing as well or if he used his journal as a means of expression. My first taste of Benny’s writing came from a six-trait writing lesson during class. Each child had to express his/her personal voice through a piece about a hunting dog. Benny wasn’t too excited to share his, but he would raise his paper up over his head as if it was about to rain every time Mrs. Slaughter would walk past his desk. A few times she asked him if he was willing to share, but Benny always responded by putting his head down on his desk.
She finally said to him, “I can read it if you’d like” and there wasn’t another hesitation. “I am a hunting dog…” she began. Mrs. Slaughter read about a dog that used to be a great hunter but now was too old to hunt anymore. His legs hurt and his smell wasn’t as sharp. The dog felt sad because he couldn’t do what he loved. She finished and held up the pictures he drew on the back of his essay, extra credit may I add. Benny took time to do the extra credit. My first impression was that he loved that assignment. For an unknown reason Benny didn’t want to physically present it himself, but he was more than willing to have the teacher do it. What did this tell me? I knew Benny was proud of what he did, but he was too scared to get up in front and talk. And I was proud of him in a way also. Benny knew how to project voice, a key to great writing.
I turned to another question then. Why had Benny done his homework so thoroughly with extra credit? He did not strike me as the type to be very diligent with his assignments. This question stuck with me through the next week. When I had some time alone I asked Mrs. Slaughter about Benny’s homework. She smirked and said, ”So, you didn’t think he would be a very responsible student either? Well, he is probably one of the few students I can count on to do their homework daily. Think about that one for a while.” And I did….
Benny’s reading level is a two on his assessment chart out of a possible four. I have noticed that his ability to pay attention was lacking also, so I could not figure out how this little boy could be so responsible with his homework. I assumed it had to be because of who or what he goes home to. Maybe his mom made him finish his homework before anything else was done, a common rule in some homes. But Mrs. Slaughter deflated that theory because she had just had a conference with his mother. She had seemed very disinterested in how well or poorly he was doing. She stated that she is a single mother now, working the late shifts, and cannot get home until after Benny is asleep. Mrs. Slaughter was left with the impressions of a mother who didn’t feel school was of the highest importance at this time.
Why did Benny finish his homework every night? This extrinsic motivation that I thought his mother had been giving him was no longer the reason. Was his motivation really intrinsic? I knelt down by Benny before class was over and acted as if I was curious with his homework. He looked at me like I had cooties and went on with his business. I mentioned that I thought he was doing a great job with turning in his homework and that he should keep it up. I received a grin as he put his head down on his desk. I got closer and quietly asked, “So… can you tell me why you are so special? Why isn’t any one else like you?” He answered with, “I don’t know, I just do it when I go home. My sister does hers so I do mine. It’s no big deal.” Is it no big deal? Benny’s sister is his motivation.
It made me wonder about Benny’s relationship with his sister. I put some puzzle pieces together. Maybe his sister is a boss whenever everyone else is gone, and Benny is forced to do his homework before she feeds him, or at least something equally threatening. This could be a possibility. Or it could be the opposite of what I initially thought. Benny’s father is in prison, and his mother works whenever he is home. His only family left is his sister, someone who is going through the same thing Benny is. She is hurting just like him, but is continuing to move forward and does her homework, being a wonderful role model. Maybe Benny’s sister isn’t the enemy but the saving grace in this little boy’s life.
Even though Benny isn’t the brightest child in the class, I see glimpses of what he can truly show. Through his writing Benny can be very expressive; a talent and skill that most fourth graders do not have yet. He has been through difficult times recently, and I feel that with the right teachers, friends, and sister, he can make it through this. Benny is capable of having a great education, but right now there are so many factors that have his attention he seems lost in class. Maybe writing more is a key for him, something he loves to do and spends time with.
With this in mind, I would think that Benny would love to read. He shows a great ability to write with expression; I think he would be a child who is easily absorbed into a good book. It took me many tries to find the real Benny inside the mask. It is a shame that some teachers don’t have the time to figure these problems out and to give each child their undivided attention.
Reading and writing, the key components of this course that I have been immersed in, is Benny’s wonderful way out. Benny can be himself when he creates a world of his own through reading and writing. He can show his true colors and, in time, build the confidence for who he is. Someone will find the spark in this little spitfire. I don’t want to miss it when they do.