I love the person I get to be on the playground. The person that doesn’t feel pressed for time or pulled in so many different directions. The person that can actually take the time to LISTEN to my kids and all the things they want to ask and share and communicate to me.

We’ve got a kiddo who asks a ZILLION questions during his intervention time. And, at some point, you just have to cut it off because he could come up with a question faster than I have finished answering his last one.

And, when there is chaos happening in your room, and he comes up to tell you something about someone or ask a question about someone, I can feel frustrated and very sternly say something like, “Focus on yourself” or, “He is not your problem. You worry about you.”

A few days ago, this kiddo was asking me another million questions as I was trying to work 1:1 with our new student. He wanted to know why the new kid was screaming, why he was throwing himself on the floor, why this, why that.

Again, I, myself, was a little flustered about all the things going on around me. So, I pointed him back to the table and I said, “This does not concern you.” I felt guilty for being so angry with him. But I also needed to get him out of the way to ensure he wouldn’t get hurt.

Later that same day, while I was on the playground with our new kiddo, and all was well again, the same student approached me to ask questions.

“Why was he screaming today? What about if you tell him to be nice,” he asked.

“He IS nice. He just has a hard time talking like you and I do. So when he screams, it can sometimes be because he’s angry that he can’t tell me what he wants or what is making him mad,” I responded with.

He looked up at me with genuine concern in his eyes. “What if he growed up and he can’t drive?” he asked me.

“Well, that’d be okay. A lot of grown-ups can’t drive. There are lots of ways to get around. You could take the bus, you could bike, you could walk,” I said.

He quieted down for a few seconds and then asked, “Why is he staring at the tree?”

“Well, he really likes looking at long, tall things. They make him happy.”

At this point, he started to recognize that I was available to answer his questions. So, obviously, he had more. “What if he growed up and climbs in a tree and falls off and hurts himself?”

“Well, that’s why all teachers and parents should make sure to teach the kids about safety so when they’re grown-ups, they know what kinds of things are safe and not safe.”

He quickly asked a follow up question. “What if someone teaches him BAD things? Like to say a bad word?”

“Well, that’s why it’s important to be a good example and if you see someone doing something like that, you should tell an adult.” I responded with.

He started backing away and said, “I’m going to go play now.”

And I just nodded. And smiled. Because, for once, I outlasted the questioner. But, more importantly, it made me so happy that I could give him the time and the space to ask all the questions he had been wanting to ask me while we were in our classroom.

It’s not easy doing what we do. Feeling stretched in a million places. Needing to stay on pace and on schedule while also taking into account that you are teaching little humans who, naturally, have questions and are curious and you want them to feel safe enough to express what’s on their mind.

That’s why playground time is so magical. It’s a half hour where I don’t have to think about stations or interventions or IEPs or curriculum. I just get to think about the kids. And isn’t that the most important thing of all?