I never thought I'd...

I never thought I’d be faced with this decision. It wasn’t something you could prepare for. No three credit course in undergrad with this on the syllabus. Staring down at the newborn baby bird, pink, with eyes shut tight, in Helene’s seven year old hand, I knew that today was a day for uncharted territory with my second grade students.

I hadn’t believed it at first. Math-- that was what was on my mind, as I shuffled my students up the stairs, and down the hall without interrupting the precious learning of other classrooms—a feat in itself, arriving at the door without any complaints of bullying or pushing in line. Ugh…we have to use geo-boards today…I can see the rubber bands being flung across the room in all directions, dutifully aimed at Gerry, our pet gerbil’s cage, with the hope of waking him from his lazy afternoon slumber. I wonder if he’s aware of the battle he will face this afternoon. Does he prepare for war and dig himself a little deeper in the bedding on days like today. Gross…the bedding! We’ve got to clean his cage this afternoon before buses are called. Where the hell are all those little rubber bands? Dear God, please do not have my principal observe me today. “Miss Daley, at recess, Helene put a baby bird in her pocket.”

“A what?” Suddenly, I’d been snapped from my frantic mental deliberation about where the hell those little rubber bands for the geo-boards were. “Excuse me?”

“At recess, Helene put a baby bird in her pocket.” It was Benny who told. Ah the irony of love, I chuckled. He was supposed to have been Helene’s boyfriend since their fatal attraction began at the kitchen center in Mrs. Wolfe’s kindergarten class. Spilling the beans on your lady a little too quick Ben, that might not earn you the right to hold her hand on the playground any longer.

“Benny, are you telling me the truth, or are you telling me a lie, because Miss Daley does not like liars.” Works every time.

“It’s true. She put her hand in the nest and then she did it again and picked up the baby bird and then she put it in her pocket.”

I couldn’t actually fathom a child stealing a baby bird from its nest at recess and putting in her pocket. Don’t all children know the mythical rule about birds and their nests? The rule that- if we tamper with an animal’s nest and the mother smells humans, they will abandon their young. Everyone knows that, right?

I instructed the class to move to a quiet spot and independently read for a few minutes. In second grade, it’s rarely independent, but a few minutes with book baskets would allow me the time to check out the situation. I gingerly approached Helene and asked her if she would come out into the hallway with me. Helene put her beloved copy of Fancy Nancy, back in her pink book basket and went out in the hall, waiting for the inevitable investigation to begin. Glancing over the class, 75% settled into reading, I walked over to the door, full of confidence that it would be Benny I’d be pulling out to interrogate for false accusations in just a few moments.

There she was, waiting for me earnestly, appropriately dressed today in a white hoodie, with the words, 100% Diva bedazzled across the front. Over the years I’ve refined my interrogation of students. It’s like doing the dishes. Sometimes you have to do them a few times a day. Sometimes the sink is fuller than others. You might have to scrape plates, bowls or pans and even change up your tools to tackle the grime. Other times, like in this situation, I assumed, it would be a quick and not-so-dirty clean up. Just the facts, and then back to work.

“Tell me what you have in your pocket.” Immersion into the warm, soapy water.

She hesitated.

My heartbeat quickens. Maybe Benny was telling the truth. Miss Daley doesn’t like liars you know. “Helene, do you have something in your pocket that you need to show me?” Calm, confident, in control teacher; that was me.

She moves, hand carefully entering the pocket of her sweatshirt, and with delicate ease, pulls out a pink skinned, closed eye, baby bird. Any control I had was lost. Gone. Kaput. “Ahhhhh!!!!!” my piercing scream echoed in the hall. The 75% of students who had been reading in my classroom were brought out of the world of their books. “Go Sit Down,” I immediately barked at them, now feet away from Helene who was still vigilantly holding this alien baby of a bird. What was she thinking? Did she really believe that this thing, new to the world and gasping for breath, baby bird, would survive in the pocket of her hoodie all afternoon? Of course she did. Why else would she steal it from its nest? Calm down, Sara, its only a bird. Deep breath. “Helene, why did you put this baby bird in your pocket?” Soft voice, no time to be forceful. “What were you thinking?” Time to put on the rubber gloves and get out the extra gentle soap, this sink full of dishes needed a little extra elbow grease paired with the tenderness required for fine china.

Whimpers. Tears. Streams of tears down her, glasses covered, blue eyed, innocent face. “I put my hand in the nest to see if the bird’s eggs had hatched because I just wanted to see, and then I felt the baby bird and I knew that if the human scent was on the babies the mother wouldn’t come back so I took the bird out of the nest and I put it in my pocket and I’m going to take it home and care for it and now it’s going to die and its all my fault.”

Think fine china Sara. Be gentle. “Helene, I know that you care about the baby bird, and that you don’t want it to die. But you can’t keep it in your pocket all afternoon. It might have germs on it that will get you, or your classmates sick. We need to put it back outside, in the nest. Hopefully the mother bird will come and everything will be fine.”

My words didn’t even begin to mend the hurt she was feeling. A little sliver of Helene’s innocence was lost on this day, as she went outside with our custodian to place the bird back by in its nest. Helene’s lost innocence was replaced by my realization that underneath the 100% diva in us all, we are fragile, forever new to the world and the experiences that are thrust upon us. In the classroom, we sat down for a class meeting, focused on a topic I never thought I’d have to discuss; “Leaving nature to nature.” The math lesson was put on hold, and all our hands were washed. (Animals carry germs you know!) Questions were answered and stories were shared. It seems like in the middle of my hurried world, I sometimes forget all the lessons that life throws at you without being a part of the grand curriculum. Be gentle, take the time to listen. You never know when you might have to place a gentle hand on fine china, reminding yourself and others that sometimes even the best intentions don’t work out. And it’s okay—life goes on.