"Tell me the truth," a seventh grader whispered to me this morning. She was visiting my homeroom, first to borrow my carpet sweeper on behalf of her own homeroom teacher and an unexpected granola catastrophe, and then to play Taco, Cat, Goat, Cheese, Pizza with me and my current sixth graders when she returned the sweeper.
I raised my eyebrows as she leaned in conspiratorially. "How much better did you like us than these students?"
I laughed. "These kids took a while to grow on me," I admitted, "but now they are pretty close to as amazing as you guys were."
She only looked a little disappointed. She had seen for herself the affection we all have for each other, and she had felt how welcome she was. That's one of the things I love about kids-- they are usually so sure that they are my favorites.
I had a similar conversation with one of my craziest classes just yesterday. After spending the first half an hour redirected them so that they might accomplish something before lunch, I was feeling a little aggravated. Even so, I said, "I know it's hard to settle down right before lunch, but I can tell you all are working hard at it. I still think we can do better, though."
"Are we your favorite class?" asked a particularly twitchy kid.
My eyes widened, and I laughed. "I don't have a favorite," I said.
"Right..." another kid said. "Wink, wink, nudge, nudge!"
"We know we're your favorite!" a girl added. "Just say it!"
"You are definitely in the top five," I promised, and rather than be annoyed by their lack of self-awareness, I was glad that they felt so confident of my high regard.
That's gotta count for something!
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