We made our way to the other side of the school, not our usual morning ritual. Today we ventured to a temporary home, a small outpost on the primary yard made for children half the size of a fifth grader.
Baskets of books, magazines, notebooks, a ream of paper, post-its, mobile devices, pens come too.
We stop short of the classroom to discuss how to proceed. What to do with our backpacks. All movement has to be orchestrated and planned.
Once in, our thirty bodies fill up every inch. Our feet our books our bodies. We can’t help it. Every step thunders while memories of being in small chairs seep into conversations.
We discuss our neighbors: the tiny first graders who walk like birds, our natural noisiness, the need to respect our environment and each other. Slowly, we find places to sit. No one knows where things are or how to do things. Day 161 feels like the first day of school.
Then blogging happens. Read aloud. Reading.
Inches from each other, eyes meet. Every foot tap is detected. Every squeak interrupts in this room built for smaller people.
Would you like to read outside? I suggest. They jump at the chance. To breathe to have a little space.
As disruptive and uncomfortable as it is to be out of our room, being in this space is a gift of sorts, to see each other and ourselves other in an old new light.
We moved back to the beginning for the last days of elementary school. A place to remember how it was.
Thank you to Two Writing Teachers Blog for Slice of Life Tuesdays. Find more slices here.
To Read To Write To Be 