September 15

They added to my duties today…again.  Crystal was asked to show me how to do kindergarten lunch.  Evidently, the kindergarten teacher gets a lunch break.  How nice for her!  Okay, don’t be catty, Annie; just because you thought you were applying for her job and because you’d actually like to eat lunch someday does not give you the right to be jealous of her.

She’s a cute thing; blonde and straight, shoulder-length hair, medium height, straightforward.  Kelly seems to do a good job when I’ve been in and out of her room taking the head count for the morning.  (I have to go around and get a physical count of the number of children in the building and make sure it matches the number the computer system thinks we have.  It usually doesn’t, because almost always one or more parents forget to clock in their child when they drop the child off in the morning.)  Kelly is one of the few young teachers who is already married.  She’s just a little more mature and professional than the others in the building.  I think I’d like her even better if I got to know her better.

Anyway, Crystal and I went down to relieve Kelly for lunch duty.  Lunch is always hot at Pemberton and is rolled out of the kitchen on carts.  The carts are parked in four general areas within the building and contain plastic tubs, one for each classroom.  The tubs contain everything the classroom needs for the lunch from plates and cutlery to the food itself.

The food has been prepared by Linda today.  The cook quit without giving notice the week before I arrived, and Linda and another teacher have been taking turns in the kitchen each day.  The smell of burnt grilled cheese is wafting through the school, but it must have been a minor casualty because the sandwiches that arrive in the kindergarten classroom look fine.  I would never complain to her anyway.  I’m in awe.  Linda does a much better job than I could.  In fact, I’m terrified I’ll be assigned the kitchen duty next.

To begin the lunch routine, the children are allowed to choose a book from the room’s library and read quietly anywhere in the room that they’d like.  When their table is called, they put their book back in the library and line up at the bathroom sink to wash their hands.  In the meantime, Crystal and I are scrambling to wipe down the tables with sanitizing Quats solution and set them with the plates, cutlery, cups, and napkins.  Once the children wash their hands, they are expected to sit politely at the table until all of the children are ready to be served.  We sing a sort of thanksgiving grace, but nothing too religious that would offend any of the vast array of religious beliefs represented by the children in the room.

When everyone is in place, Crystal and I go around to each table and ask the children to raise their hand if they would like whatever food we happen to be serving at the moment.  We pass out food as quickly as we can, but it’s not fast enough.  Demands come pouring in.  The first to be served want seconds before the last to be served have even seen food on their plates.  The talk flows freely and gets louder as lunch progresses.  Crystal reminds them to be quiet.

The one benefit to lunch duty is that the teacher serving it is actually allowed to have a plate herself, if there’s enough left and if there’s time.  Apparently, time has been an issue in this class, because Crystal automatically goes over to a timer conveniently placed on the counter and sets it for five minutes.  She announces that the class is to sit at their places at the table and finish eating for five minutes.  This seems to come as no surprise to them.  She reminds them they may talk quietly with their tablemates.  She and I sit down to a quick bite to eat.

When the five minutes are up, students who are finished and tired of sitting want to be allowed out of their chairs.  Students who are still hungry want to be served again.  The demands are endless and constant.  When a student is given permission to get up, they are supposed to go over to the trash can, scrape off any leftover food from their plates, and put their plates, cups, and utensils in the big plastic tub.  They may go back to reading a book from the library.  As a table empties of students, it’s my job to wipe it down again with Quats and clean up the spilled food left behind.

After lunch is over, which happens astoundingly quickly, it’s time to take the class to recess.  Today, the duty is easy because it’s a beautiful day (no need for coats and they can go outside).  We line them up and take them out; as soon as they reach the door, they run like wild animals being freed from a cage.