Sweet Life

At the end of each day, I choose one student to receive a red licorice. The name is kept secret and only revealed if the child packs up silently and gets in line without a peep. Since it could be anyone, they all line up quietly in the hopes they are the one. 

After handing out the licorice today, a kid said: 

"Why is it called licorice? You don't lick them. They should be cheworice. Ice cream cones should be called licorice."

Good point, young man. Good point. 

Admit Nothing

Today I was going over the Accelerated Reader progress of my class; calling individuals to my desk to discuss concerns and rewarding ones who are making progress. 

Of all 30 students, two have gotten 100% on every quiz they've taken. I called them both to my desk at the same time to give out some high praise and, more importantly, a couple pieces of red licorice. 

Now, kid # 1 is pretty savvy. She's always coming up with interesting questions and thinks pretty deeply about what we learn about in class. 

Kid #2 on the other hand, is usually not aware I'm even speaking in class. He needs a lot of support to keep even a tenuous grasp on what is going on in class. I tell him to imagine a bullseye on my forehead, and to try not to take his eyes off it. My next step may be to put an actual bullseye on my forehead. 

We work very hard to help him stay focused...

Here's our conversation:

Me: I am so proud of you both for all this hard work. You both have earned 100% on every single quiz this year. Good for you! Have some licorice. 

 

Kid #1: Wow! Really? I did that? Thanks, Mrs. Lee!

Kid #2: Wow! Really? I have no idea how I did that! I never read the books. I just guess every time! (And he was so proud of himself!)

Kid #1: (insert a dropped jaw, a "why did you just admit that" glare and a palm to her own face)

Despite his innocent admission of, well not guilt, but laziness, I gave him his licorice anyway. He rarely has anything good happen for him.  

But he's on my radar now. 

Not that he'll notice...