So we’re studying Ancient Greece, in our first grade classroom, and yesterday we started a segment on daily life in Athens, specifically, the birthplace of democracy and processes of citizenship. Smart kids that they are, they picked up on some interesting aspects of ancient life, no matter how blandly I tried to present it.
Keep in mind, the demographic of my class is at least 75% black, with a smattering of hispanic kids – as is the neighborhood in which I’m teaching. So, you can imagine, the parts of our lesson that mentioned slavery were hotly discussed by my seven-year-olds. I mean, kids will be kids, right? Most of my kids think New Jersey is another country; they have that elastic sense of place and time that every kid has. But these kids sure knew their history when it came to talking about slaves.
Krissa: So, it says here that only free men could vote. What does that mean, free men? What’s the opposite of free people?
Sally*: Black people.
I was almost shocked into laughing, which rivals a certain mispelling of the word “house” as the hardest moment of forced maturity or composure I’ve faced. I went on to explain, as best I could, that although here in the U.S., black people were the predominant ethnicity forced into slavery, ancient Greece would have had slaves of different skin types, and that not all black people were slaves. And I was proud of her, of all my students – quoting Martin Luther King at me about freedom and knowing as much as they did about their own history. When I so often find huge gaps in their knowledge, here was an unexpected mine of information that our schools are doing well to drive home.
But MAN. This must be what they mean when they say out of the mouths of babes.
* name changed, OBVS.




OMG. I laughed my ass off. Krissa, bless your heart. You’re a stronger woman than I am. I struggle with my community college students. I can’t imagine a room of first-graders. Holy moly…
Bless YOU, Tristin. Two days and I was starting to think everyone had put down the blog gingerly and back away in abject horror or something.
I didn’t even TELL the “house” one.
I am glad to hear that they know about MLK. I teach a Great Books seminar, and each year I draw a line from Antigone to Rosa Parks.
This past year I got a “who?” from a couple of my black traditional students, and it wasn’t for Antigone’s name, either. I thought the older black students in the class (the course has both adult degree students and trads) were going to have heart failure, and my class stopped for a moment while students educated other students.
That being said, the horror of the child’s answer.
well, now i’m dying to know the “house” misspelling. Obviously. I just sat at my desk for the last five minutes *trying* to misspell a word. Not an everyday occurrence for a writer/editor, let me tell you. C’mon, Krissa, you can tell us …
or you can just e-mail me.
awesome story! last year i had a similar awkward situation in my 8th grade class when we discussed anne frank.
glad you’re seeing the fun side of the classroom; it sounds like you’re doing a great job!
That is one fabulous story! A Happy New Year to you and Stuart!