I am 8th grader, hear me ask weird questions

A question of hair.

KoreanKid is in my 3rd period class. He is super smart, super clingy, and super weird. He has lived in this country for less than a year. His English vocabulary, especially when it comes to math terms, is limited, so whenever he asks questions, he becomes rather long winded and I've lost most of the class by the time he finishes asking.

I try not to call on him too often when he wants to ask a question during whole class teaching. This does not deter him from asking his long winded questions anyway.

Today, when he walked into the room, before the bell, he had this doozy of a question for me:

KoreanKid: Ms., is your hair magic?

Me: *gigantic*pause*trying*to*understand*what*he*means*

KoreanKid: Like, how come your hair is short one day and the next day it's long again?

Me: ...Um, probably because I tie my hair up some days, and leave it down other days.

The class "Forget-er"

Easy to make waves, just as easy to make them disappear.
Tabitha* was one of my very first tutoring students this year. I've been working with her for the past three months. She's the only student who has never canceled on me. She, and her mother and aunt, are awesome.

She started out with a D in math. She's now pulling a B.

She LOVES Twilight.

She swims.

She was painfully shy at first, but she's opened up once we've gotten to know each other better.

I give her timed multiplication and division tests whenever I can. As a fourth grader, she really should be pulling 20 problems per minute in both. She got really close at one point a month back, 19/min in multiplication. Then her teachers started giving her piles of homework and we couldn't get to the timed test.

This week, she's taking the CSTs, so she has no homework. Yesterday, I gave her the timed tests again and she fell to 14/min in multiplication. She wasn't proud of that. But she went up to 11/min in division, from only 9/min last month.

Which is weird, because division is usually more difficult for students than multiplication.

"Oh yeah," Tabitha said, when I told her about her anomaly, "Since we've been doing the harder stuff in math, I've been forgetting the easy stuff."

Thus, the class Forget-er. Tab does tend to forget - she even forgets what she was talking about mid-sentence sometimes. It's funny until it gets exasperating. Good thing she pulls it back together once she senses I'm losing patience with her. I wish all kids were that perceptive. Hell, I wish all ADULTS were that perceptive.

I do have a question to end on: For this type of forgetting, where does natural, childhood ditziness end and a real learning disability begin? I'm pretty sure Tab won't qualify for special ed, probably never will. But it's definitely something I plan on studying more in depth than that measly six units of Intro to Special Education.


*Not real name

The class "Mystery"

As mysterious as the meat in this steamed bun (although, the steamed bun was still good).
In my 5th/6th split class last semester, I had a student who just couldn't be placed in any category. He had been tested for learning disabilities, but he had none. He typically did horrible in math, so he was with the low group and did the remedial work - yet he scored Proficient in math on his CST the year before. His verbal skills are far, far above average.

He is a rather explosive kid - quick to anger and quick to forgive. Quick to do anything - which gave him the talent of taking initiative, which is something many kids twice his age have yet to develop. He was also slow to think before acting - which put him in the middle of quite a few skirmishes with his peers (and arguments with his teachers). Still, most everyone liked him, and vice versa. I certainly enjoyed teaching him.

All the teaching and office staff called him a mystery because of his inconsistent academic performance (sometime really on top of it, sometimes not at all). During a grade level meeting with the principal, we were supposed to place our students into one of four groups: high achieving/high motivation, low achieving/high motivation, high achieving/low motivation, and low achieving/low motivation. It took me so long to finally decide where this kid fit on the spectrum. I've seen him act within the realms of all four areas.

Kids are kids, though, and they'll be inconsistent. That's to be expected. Certainly it's a challenge to figure out how to teach a kid who constantly moves around the board. But that makes teaching fun as well.

The class "Emotionally Disturbed"

Mental states are elsewhere.
Some teachers say that all kids are emotionally disturbed nowadays - just like how many special education teachers like to say all students are "special ed."

I'm on the fence regarding both these sayings. Just for today, I'll write about the emotionally disturbed students I've worked with.

This kid was my favorite. I have pretty self-involved reasons for thinking she is my favorite, but she really is a sweet kid. I sometimes wonder how she's doing now. She's in the third grade this year.

Another a student was in a horrific car accident with you younger sister. They both survived obviously, but some of their family members in their same car didn't. It affected the younger sister much more than the older one - at least in outward behaviors. The younger sister would cry and run away from her classroom. CT#3 would track her down while I taught, and bring her back to our room. Her older sister would help calm her down. Once she was calm, she would sit in the back and look at the lizard. She could sit there for hours, playing a staring contest with Harvey the Chinese Water Dragon. Eventually, she learned to stay in her own classroom without freaking out. It took the better part of the fall. She taught me the value of having a pet in the classroom.

Another student had an ingrained habit of what CT#2 called, "Alpha male" behaviors. CT#2 would know, he was an alpha male too. The student in question got really tense and anxious for seemingly no apparent reason at least twice a day. His story involved gang activity, both parents in jail, drugs, homelessness, and having been abandoned at the mall with his little brother. His behaviors included stealing, breaking things, defacing school property, intense bullying, swearing, and shouting out inappropriate comments at any given time. He would not pay any female teacher any attention at all. There was a staff member on campus, who's phone number was taped in bold print next to the phone, trained to specifically restrain this student. One day, under my watch, he ran out of the classroom and wouldn't come back. He was found in the boy's bathroom, digging holes out of the plaster walls with a compass.

All three students went to the resource teacher and saw the school psychologist on a regular basis. With the exception of Car Accident Girl, these students had IEPs and would most likely be tracked in special ed classes for the rest of their public education careers.

There isn't much else I want to say regarding emotionally disturbed students. I know I'll probably meet up with more. I definitely need more practice and training dealing with these students - the second example especially. He was highly volatile. CT#2 didn't teach me how to handle him, other than say I needed to be male. I did learn (on my own) that power struggles are not worth it.

The class "Grand-Stander"

Look at me! Look at me! Although this photo was just for a joke.
Devon* is a fifth grader. He has a speech impediment (stutter) which he sometimes relies on to prolong his time during presentations and whatnot. He likes to be the center of attention. He is rather show-off-y, although his skills across the board are a B average. Which is good, just nothing spectacular. He likes to interact with his audience, get side-tracked, which also means he needs constant re-focusing during his presentations.

In other words, he's a grand-stander.

He's a very sweet kid. Kind, caring of others. He works hard, and manages to keep his other attention deficiency under control most of the time. He does tend towards accidents - falling, tripping, dropping things, bumping into people. It seems like almost every other recess he manages to hurt himself in some way. His mother is known to call him, "weird." Which he is, but in a good way for the most part.

The thing with Devon is that I have to be very firm, and very direct with him. Using hints and jokes to re-focus him are not as effective as when I use it with the rest of the class. He takes those hints and continues on his merry grand-standing way. It can get obnoxious. Similar to how grand-stander adults are.

Luckily, he is just a kid, a pretty good kid. I give him a square look straight in the eyes, firmly tell him to "move on, Devon," and he does. Sometimes he gives me this innocent look, opens his arms, palms up, and says, "What?" as if he doesn't know. I play the record on repeat, changing my tone of voice and he says, "Fine, Ms. Ng" and moves on. Sometimes he moves on reluctantly, but move on he does.

When personalities are strong, like Devon's, some of that basic child psychology I had to learn as a teacher gets thrown out the window. Kids are kids, until they need to be treated like an adult to get them to stop wasting class time on frivolous things like making faces and bantering with individuals.

On of my CT's last "teacher mantras" is: "Some of the things they teach you in pedagogy is a bunch of bull. Give students more power? No, students have enough power as it is."

I say it depends on the student. Some students definitely have too much power, and end up using it negatively. There are others whom I would like to see more get-up-and-go in.

But Devon, and others of his like, definitely know how to work the bit of power that he has for his own attention-seeking devices.

*not student's real name

The class "Eager Beaver"

Not a beaver, but close enough.
I've never met a student "eager beaver" until my current class came along. Wow. What a different world teaching this student is.

He likes to echo the teacher. He likes to get ahead with assignments - no matter how poorly he did in the one he *thinks* he just finished. He likes to tell his peers what to do.

I'm using "he" here, but of course it's not limited to males.

This kid may likely develop OCD tendencies as he gets older. Was I like this too? It's a little insane at how much he wants to move forward, checking off a list for the sake of checking off a list. Like a bulldozer. It's difficult to teach him to be patient, enjoy the moment, and go back and fix his mistakes.

But I suppose life will teach him these things much better than I ever can.

The class "Hermione Granger"

This semester is the very first class where I actually have blonde kids in my room. Multiple blonde kids. It's quite amazing that I'm still getting used to that.

Well, they aren't your typical white bread American blonde kids. They are first generation Russians and Ukrainians. Diversity: one major reason I love California. And I mean REAL diversity, not the type of diversity that people (especially politicians) like to call "diverse" when it is more like 99% African American. That is not diverse. That is 99% African American. Call it what it is, folks.

Anyway, there is this one blonde kid, Irene*, who is actually a sixth grader (split class - the way things are these are going to be more like the norm than not from now on). Smart kid, very sociable. You know, just from the way she dresses, speaks, and carries herself, that her home life is decently healthy and happy. She is one of nine at GE who scored a perfect 600 on the CST last year. She has this Eastern European accent that is very pleasant on the ears, similar to the way a British accent sounds exotic and cultured at the same time.

And I swear she is the spitting image of Hermione Granger (aka Emma Watson). No joke. From face to personality to brains. Well, ok, her personality is one peg down from bossy, but still. You can't believe how odd that is for me. Would that make me Professor McGonagall?

Hm, would it be too forward of me to suggest to her parents to consider professional modeling activities for Irene? Any extra curricular activity is a learning experience too.

Photo: Guardian News and Media

The class "Bored"

Think outside the board.
I teach Sunday school on the side, and there is this one kid, Trisha*, who can be really annoying. After all the typical Sunday morning events are done, I sometimes stick around for the youth choir practice in the afternoon. This kid is there too. She's a sweet kid; smart and gets along well with others. Nevertheless, this one phrase can be found coming out of her mouth:

"I'm bored. There's nothing to do."

And she always comes to me about this. As if she expects me to entertain her like a TV program. When there is something more interesting, I'm out of sight and out of mind. But when she's in B.O.R.E.D. mode, she comes whining to me.

"Bring a book," I say. "You have your DS, right?" I ask. No, she didn't bring a book. Yes, she has her DS but that's boring too.

Kid, if I had a DS, I could entertain myself for DAYS with Animal Crossing Wild World alone.

Sometimes I play foosball, or soccer, with her. Sometimes we just talk. Sometimes we play with my digital camera, or laptop, if I happen to have them on me. She's a cool kid to hang around with.

But a lot of the time, I'm already wiped out from teaching during the week, and my own classes, and teaching all that morning, plus all the other stupid political stuff that happens in a traditional church like my home church (this is why I have an abhorrence for churches now - I only go to help out the handful of people who seem to be doing all of the work), plus life in general is pretty tiring and I'm beginning to feel the effects of being on the other side of a quarter century. And I work with kids all week, it's nice to have some grown-up time too.

She's not the issue here though. The issue is: children! Get it into your heads that you have the power to not be bored! Find something to do if you are! Take the initiative for goodness sake! Like this kid, or this kid, who decided to choose something for themselves and accomplished something bigger than themselves.

Ok, I'm being a little unfair here. Trisha is only a third grader, not a late-teen on the verge of becoming legal. But still. I don't remember being so reliant on adults for sources of things to do. I brought books with me wherever I went. Later, I brought my homework too. I explored outside and in. Trisha, do you have any idea where all those great hiding places in that church building are There are no less than 16 different ways to get in and out of the building alone, two of which have roof access and half of which I can no longer fit through!

Is it us, the adults? As a kid, I played with fire and handled knives by the age of six. Climbed fences and roofs and buildings and trees and rocks. All of which most adults nowadays would forbid children from doing. And Trisha is a pretty obedient kid. I kind of wish she was a little less so for her own sake.

Is there such a thing as over protection? I think so. No, I don't want an accident to happen. We took the Sunday school students to a local park for a picnic recently. Trisha wanted to go to the playground area. I gave her permission. But she ended up not going. She said she didn't want to be kidnapped.

The playground area was within sight from our picnic table. There were lots of other kids and parents around that day. She would have the other Sunday school kids go with her too. She carries a cell phone in her pocket all the time, and she knows my cell number as well as the other Sunday school teacher's. I trusted that she would make the right choices if a stranger did go up to her and try to take her away. Still, she didn't go and ended up sitting around, when she really wanted to go play, on a gorgeous day at the park.

Maybe bored isn't the right word to describe this. Do adults have too much fear? Is it affecting kids in a negative way? Or is this one case, a personality thing? When does a teacher push their students to do more, be more? And when do I tell them it's ok to hang out on the safe side for a while?

Maybe that's it: it's ok to be safe sometimes, and it's ok to go out on the church roof and freak yourself out with vertigo every so often.

The (other) class pet

Brown-nosers can be very annoying. I didn't particularly like them as a student because they hogged the teacher's time, which didn't seem very fair to me. I don't particularly like them as a teacher because they hog my time and I end up not being able to pay as much attention to the rest of the class.

But Bernice* was one of my first grade students last year who really sucked up like nothing else. She was a little older than the other students, since there was some sort of mix up with her shots records and she started kinder a year later than expected. Because of this, she knows she can be a much bigger helper than the other students, and thus took advantage of the closer role she played with me and my CT.

She wasn't a particularly manipulative kid. Although I know she sometimes purposefully uses the bathroom pass during class so that she can take the consequence of staying in during recess time to do academic stuff with the teacher (that was the rule in KM's classroom).

So I wonder if brown-nosers do what they do because they crave that attention from adults? I would think most students crave that kind of attention from adults. And considering the typical background of students in Title I schools, it's no wonder.

Still, I can't "save" every single kid. That's not my job, neither is it my responsibility. That sounds cruel, but I really dislike that motive for being a teacher. I can't save my students from the cycle of poverty. They have to save themselves. I can only give them the tools and skills and experiences that might help them with their goals.

So Bernice, and other brown-nosers, I wish you well. But you do need to get out of my face sometimes, no offense intended.

*Not the real name

The class sweetheart

At 9:15 AM, select students file out of the classroom and others file in. My CT, JL, takes the main group and launches into his free-form styled English Language Development lesson. I take two first-year English Learners and attempt to teach them six school years worth of English.

Andy* is from Mexico. He has been in the US for about a year. He is quiet, in the non-production stage. He comprehends well enough, although sometimes he doesn't do anything about it - probably because he's zoned out. He also goes to speech and spends time twice a week with a special education teacher. He has issues with spelling/sound combinations.

Marty* is from Pakistan. At the time I met him, he had only been in the US for a few weeks. Marty is shy, and refused to make eye-contact with me in the beginning. I encouraged him to translate things from English into Urdu. He loved this and opened up dramatically. Marty knows a lot more English than he lets on. His writing is fantastic, considering. He loves drawing and embellishing fonts with arabesques and curlicues. He had his off days of course, like everyone else. But he started to love being at school a lot. Which made me enjoy being at school too.

Andy is a great kid. But it was Marty that really made me teach my best during our scant 30 minutes of individualized English instruction. I wish I took photos of his work - they were beautifully and proudly made. For the seven and a half weeks I taught them, we graduated from 2nd grade to 3rd grade level picture books. Marty* could probably go for the slimmer chapter books too, but Andy was lagging behind while Marty's academic skills literally exploded and I didn't want to leave him behind. It makes me a little sad to aim for the middle road between students of such varied skill levels, but they were both learning something, so it wasn't all bad.

At 9:45 AM, Marty and Andy clean up their areas and return to their classrooms. Andy leaves with a perfunctory wave. Marty pauses and faces me, heels together. "Good-by Ms. Ng," he says formally.

The class gifted

Non-intrusive.
(This is an on-going series on various students I've taught and their personalities and learning styles. See the tag "the class" for more.)
This student make me happy. Annie* is smart, hard working, and oh so talented. She's the type of student that inspires teachers to teach better. I did end up telling her to attend real art school. She seemed pleased. I wonder if she and her parents will do anything about it.

The class gifted is relatively more difficult to spot than the other ones. Sometimes they are wallflower-ish. Sometimes they are by-stander-ish. Most of the time, they are humble enough to not flaunt their talents the way lesser gifted students would. And when there are 34 other big personalities to deal with, well, I end up not spending as much of my teaching energy on these gifted students as I would like to.

It's easy to justify my lack by saying that these kids will excel anyway, with or without guidance. This isn't always true. Sometimes gifted students become bored, then act out from boredom, then end up in places where their talents languish unknown by the world and - worst of all - unknown to themselves.

But there are distinguishing characteristics of the class gifted. Each individual class gifted will show it in a different way. I disagree with JL on a lot of things (i.e. nearly all things), but did approve of his intentions of introducing his students to extra-curriculars like sports or music. I would even take it a step more and provide parents with a list of community resources to look into. I've learned that many people won't bother to do something new unless things are set up easy for them. And then their interest has got to be nurtured until they can feed it themselves. Man, people are so needy!

And now I need to get ready for this afternoon's art lesson.

The class "square peg round hole"

Still green.
Every class has a kid that sticks out like a sore thumb in a way this kid, this kid, and this kid will never be. Eventually, probably after a lot of heartache, they will find their place. But even then, the "square peg round hole" title may still apply.

Jerry* was a kid in my fifth grade class who really really stuck out. Every other student hated him. Granted, he was annoying. But he did not deserve to have his sweatshirt drawn on with markers, his notebooks torn up, his pencils stolen, and his very presence rejected.

Annie* is a kid in my Thursday art class who is one of the most obnoxious personalities on the face of the planet. She is in fifth grade and insists on telling long-winded tales like a kindergardener when all I asked was a simple question. Her art style reminds me a little bit of me when I was in art school (cartoonish, pretty ugly stuff, very little elegance or subtlety with her aesthetic sense).

Avery* is a kid in my Wednesday art class who will. Not. Stop. Talking. Ever. Also a fifth grader (does EVERYTHING happen in fifth grade?) she enjoys badgering the boys, who sometimes treats her in a very ungentlemanly way, even if some of the stuff she gets, well, she had it coming. She also enjoys bossing around the girls.

All three students are smart, (can be) personable, socially awkward, but are good kids overall. They are just unconventional enough for other people to be uncomfortable around them. And of course, conventional people tend to be unnecessarily rude to the unconventional people sometimes. Must be something leftover from early mankind's survival instincts.

I too struggle with accepting this type of kid. Mainly because they are very outspoken when things don't go the way they want it to which can impede my instruction. A lot. Sometimes, I just want these kids to suck it up and stop complaining that life isn't fair.

So I tell them that they are right, it isn't. And they have an advantage over everyone else for learning that lesson early and well. And that sometimes, people will not like you, no matter how good you are at whatever they are good at. The most mature, win-win way of dealing with it is:.....well, I don't know. But for now, take care of the stuff you can accomplish today. Some day, you'll be able to take care of everything you haven't been able to now, because you'll be able to accomplish a lot more.

Also, all bullies, bad-mouthing, rudeness, and other sundry misbehaviors will have to answer to me. And I do not make stuff like that a pleasant experience.

The class clown

(This turned into a series of entries on about the same topic. Previous student observations are found here and here.)

One of the most memorable students I've taught this past year is this fifth grade boy who couldn't read.

When I say he couldn't read, I mean he could probably read at a first grade level. Actually, many of his mannerisms are very first grade-like. He has an extremely short attention span. He is very, um, let's say bouncy; my CT was trying to convince this student's mother that the boy should get some sort of medical attention for his hyperactivity. He resembled a monkey more than any other student I've taught - he even had a special "monkey dance" for the most (in)opportune moments.

This kid is also very sweet. He says please, and thank you, and when the planets are aligned just right he gets it, really gets it. He's a very likable guy, no attitude problems. Very honest and gets along with nearly everybody. The rest of the class seemed to know there is something different about him. The would say, "Oh, he's just like that" when he did act out. They all, including my CT, thought I was a stick in the mud for wanting this kid to do better.

But because he was known for making jokes and funny faces all the time, and did get away with doing the things he does sometimes, he also triggered the other students into becoming class clowns. Which spoke more about the other students' mob-like mentality than anything about this particular kid. He is pretty funny. He craved attention of the laughing kind. I can relate to that.

He was also the kid I thought I could help the most. He desperately needed some sort of reading tutor, all written instructions had to be read aloud to him or else he won't follow and thus goof off. When he did know what the assignment was about, he could complete as well as any other typical kid. Well, as long as he didn't have to write anything longer than three sentences. Reading and writing are linked like that.

It's strange how he stuck out so well to me. His other classmates don't create nearly as much academic curiosity as this kid does. I remember them of course - they were a very memorable class, even without my student teaching troubles. But I've been thinking a lot about how to teach a student like him. I'll probably come across more students with a profile similar to him. Other than one-on-one tutoring and making sure there is a way for him to learn the content without intensive reading or writing, I'm not sure what else to do

The class crier

Whiney Kid in my Wednesday art class is sometimes almost unbearable. From the very first class, he seemed mopey and unwilling to do much. I believe most people are pretty optimistic (yes, even the emo among us), but there are born pessimists and Whiney Kid is one of them.

It has been excruciatingly difficult to get him to do ANYTHING. He doesn't want to draw. He doesn't want to color. he doesn't follow the tips and tricks I give the class for experimenting with individual artistic style. Art class is extra-curricular, and I'm much more lenient than I would be in a self-contained classroom. The one main rule for students is they can pretty much do anything that doesn't harm other people, and doesn't get in the way of other people from doing their art.

Whiney Kid is quite persistent with his whininess. To the point that it affects the students around him. He's like that white mochi thing in those Zoloft commercials before the Zoloft - just a big gray cloud of depressing vibes around him. It got so bad one day that he started crying. Not bawling, but the passive aggressive type of crying where you really can't help it because you are just so. Very. Depressed.

I've had crying kids in class before. For the most part, they cry because they aren't feeling well, or because they know they are in deep, deep trouble. One of my first grade students from phase II only cries when she wants her own way. One of my fifth grade students cries because she doesn't want people to think she's stupid (which she is not, she just thinks other people thinks she is, in that pre-teen self-conscious way).

So I know how to deal with them. I made sure the rest of the class was busy and on task, then knelt down and told Whiney Kid to spill it. Out came this long explanation of the woes of his life: how he missed the art class he took in kindergarden, how his mom made him go to this art class because his younger brother wanted to, how this was never his idea anyway how he was super sensitive to the sounds and lights in the room (migraine? in a 7-year-old? huh, I guess it could happen), and a bunch of mumbled stuff that I didn't quite catch but wasn't necessary for me to understand because he just needed to get it off his chest.

When he was done, I acknowledge how fun his kindergarden art class sounded. I sympathized with the tension between him and his mom, and told him that whatever disagreement he has with her needs to be worked out by them two. I firmly told him that the YR art classes are different, and we mainly only use markers and color pencils. I told him I can't make him do this art, he is the one who controls his own hand with the pencil in it. But he did not have a right to share his miserableness in a way that makes his classmates uncomfortable or distracts them from their work. I told him he had a choice: he can give the drawing class a chance, or he can put his head down and wait for the end. For either of those choices, I would allow him to go to the bathroom to wash his face, or get a drink of water and come back.

He did a little bit of both the drawing and the putting his head down. He didn't take the offer of leaving the room to collect himself, but he did stop whining and sucked it in. The following week, he seemed much more cheerful. For him, I mean. He didn't smile, now was he very energetic. But he didn't whine (much) either. I dismissed the class at the end, and watched them leave with their waiting parents/grandparents. Whiney Kid politely waved and said, "Bye, Ms. Ng" in reply to my wave and "See you later."

The class INTJ

You can do it, little sprout!
In my Tuesday YR class is an extremely shy kindergardener. She's possibly the smallest student I have ever taught. She doesn't speak, doesn't really make eye contact, and doesn't verbally contribute (i.e. raising hands to ask questions). She's a cute kid, and above average at drawing, being able to keep up with the second graders that make up the rest of my class. But she is so painfully shy!

So how do you bring out a kid like that from their shell and encourage them to take some risks? My class is small enough so that I can give each student sufficient individual attention, which is why I'm asking this question. If it was a larger class, I probably would just let her do her thing since she isn't bothering other students, nor is she off task. But I think if she opens up a little, I can teach her better.

Although shy kids are not quite the mystery to me like non-shy kids are. I was a shy kid too, painfully so. I understand why sometimes shy kids just want to be left alone. Or meld with the decor. Or just not talk, because talking isn't always enjoyable. These kids also get the short end of the stick because the teacher is usually busy with the students who act out in louder, more obnoxious ways. They tend to be highly independent, figuring stuff out on their own before asking for help. Which is good. But they often do get over-looked and under-appreciated among a class of 20-35 other students clamoring for attention.

For the most part, I make sure she's in the conversation by looking her way whenever I ask an open-ended question, or when I'm checking for understanding. I know she's following when she does what I say. I know she's not following when she seems to be day-dreaming and doesn't respond quickly. I would like her to be a little more out-going - because it sucks to be so shy sometimes. It can be paralyzing, and then you miss out on opportunities, or get seem indecisive but really just can't manage to make that first step forward. Been there, done that. It's always better to learn assertiveness and be your own advocate.

So Super Shy Kid, it's ok! Take it one step at a time. Today, she gave me a good long look in the eye and smiled shyly. Yep, one step at a time.