I am not sure I like that part about "witch".
The Daughter used to think I was a mean old witch too. Yeah... brings back some not nice memories. Hmmmm...
He was a GEP who had been placed on advanced training in Science and Math. This meant that from amongst the GEP, the boy was identified as talent to be further groomed. He was simply one of those children who would interrupt you after he has heard 20% of what you are trying to explain, and then he would proceed to explain to you what you were going to say.
It didn't make him popular with the facilitators (all of whom found him odious) but after 2 years of teaching him, a soft spot for him had grown deep inside my heart.
The poor boy had been working 12 hour days 7 days a week. Even his GEP brain was maxed out. He did not have much emotional control to begin with, being one of those children with higher IQ than EQ... and when tired, he was like a cranky 3 month old... bursting into tears at the slightest provocation.
He just stood there with eyes streaming saying, "I really don't understand the comprehension passage", whilst other non-GEP children with REAL problems in language acquisition were studiously at work.
- You are tired. You aren't thinking anymore. This is the 3rd week in a row. Please withdraw from my class for your own good. You need to rest.
At this, he collapsed into a heap on my staircase and wailed...
- I cannot leave this class. This is the only time in the week where I am truly HAPPY!
At that, my heart broke. My classes are no piece of cake. The HW is demanding and I actually do throw badly done HW into the dustbin. If this demanding class with a FIERCE Dr. Pet was his oasis of happiness, what hell must be the rest of his life?!!!!!
Trying not to breathe in his pre-adolescent stale sweat, I gathered the Fat Little Boy into my arms and asked him questions to get him to verbalise all the toxic emotions in his heart. It is like lancing a boil you know. Before you put on a dressing, it helps to squeeze out all the pus. When he was done, I applied my dressing to his emotional wound...
- Next time, when you meet something that scares or stresses you, I want you to imagine Dr. Pet at her fattest, biggest and FIERCEST... and I am standing behind you protecting you from anything that might try to hurt you.
Apparently, it works. I have now become the children's virtual Protector Pet. I think I shall go tailor myself a cape to wear on my shoulders... or perhaps a pointy hat and a broomstick!
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