How To Wrangle Your Preschool Class With No Voice.

As promised, here is my account of what teaching a class of 9 preschoolers is like with no voice.

First things first, we need to lay a little groundwork.  Preschoolers are curious and creative and energetic and loving, they love to learn anything and everything new. They like to push limits and test boundaries and wait until you get to 3 before they follow directions. They test my patience and expand my patience in ways I never imagined they could and they have taught me how to love fiercely and intentionally.

Before I went to work yesterday I sat down on my couch and prayed that God would teach me something, anything in all of this. It seemed like a good learning experience. How exactly do you wrangle your class of preschoolers with no voice? HOW?

Yesterday morning started off well. My sweet little students made me “chicken noodle soup” and “popsicles” out of play dough and the rice in our sensory table. They asked me over and over again why my voice was broken and gave me so many hugs I could barely stand their cuteness. “This isn’t so bad”, I thought, “My little angles.”

Fast forward half an hour to recess…

WALKING THROUGH A PARKING LOT WITH 9 THREE YEAR OLDS AND NO VOICE IS A HORRIBLE EXPERIENCE.

You can’t yell STOP or FREEZE or STAY ON THE SIDEWALK or SLOW DOWN. All you can do is try to herd your little stampede across the street and into the welcomed gates of the playground without anyone straying.

30 minutes later, we did It all over again. Me holding the hands of as many children as I could while some of the oldest ones held hands with each other right in front of me.

Back in the classroom my little munchkins had nowhere to run, so I calmed down just a little bit. I forwent the normal days activities and allowed the kids to have center play most of the morning in an effort to save my voice.

In that lull of the day where there was no transitioning and minimal chaos, I found that I almost liked the absence of my voice. Every time I wanted to communicate I had to be so close to my kiddoes that I couldn’t help but notice all the tiny little details that make them unique; the colors of their eyes and their knotty preschool hair, their small but able hands, and their baby soft skin.

I welcomed quietly giving them instructions while kneeling in front of them, and listening to them “read” to me because they knew that I couldn’t read to them. I revisited all of the reasons I love each and every one of my students and tasted, ever so slightly, Christ’s incredible love for each of them as well.

Yesterday was utter chaos, don’t get me wrong. In many ways it confirmed, for me, a child’s need for structure, and direction. They need to know who is in charge and they need to know that it’s not them. But, in so many ways, I was also given a gift yesterday; The gift of stepping out of structure, and seeing my kiddoes in a different light.

While I hope to high heaven that I never lose my voice again on a school day, I also pray that God continues to give me experiences to help me grow more in my ability to love these children like He does and to point them towards Him in everything I do.

“Jesus said, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.”

Matthew 19:14