He’s ba-ack! Or maybe she’s back. Male or female, that pesky little elf is back for its annual spy mission. And I’m not too thrilled. That’s because the teacher me is not a fan of Santa’s little helper.
Before you label me a bah-humbug, unfun curmudgeon, hear me out. Please.
“Santa Fever,” is something all primary teachers learn to navigate. We can temper the Santa excitement with routine and structure. We’re pros at managing work, fun and talk of the guy in red.
This elf thing, though. It’s been a game changer. In the early days, I assumed this elf thing would peter out, go the way of pet rocks, Beanie Babies and silly bands. The elf thing required so much effort, put so much pressure on parents it wouldn’t be sustainable. But, I was wrong. Super wrong.
Between Thanksgiving and December first, elves magically reappear in my students’ homes. Talk of gratitude is abruptly replaced with elf stories. “You’ll never believe what my elf did today!” Day after day, there’s an elf story or three to be told. And as December progresses, my students become increasingly amped up relaying stories, giggling over the silly elf hijinks, gasp and guffaw repeating details of naughty elf behavior.
And all this elf talk takes so. Much. Time. Time which we never seem to have enough of as it is. Ever. Which seems all the more precious during this “most wonderful time of the year.” Bell to bell, every minute of our school day is accounted for. And stories of these little North Pole tourists engaging in their slumber time shenanigans were eating away minutes and minutes of my precious time, derailing learning!
Then I got to thinking about time. And the elf. What if I reframed this perennial challenge? “Reframing,” (in super-duper simplified terms) for those of you unfamiliar with the term, is choosing to look at something differently. What if I tried to see the elf as a good thing instead of a time thief? Embrace my students’ excitement? Experience second-hand joy? Surely I had time to participate in extreme happiness, right?
So that’s what I’ve done this year. Engaged in some serious reframing. And I’ve realized that the most precious time of all is the present. In a year’s time, my students will be third graders, on their way to becoming legit “big kids.” Quite possibly some of them will even decide they’re too old for elf silliness. For now, though, they’re where they’re meant to be; in the company of a mother and teacher who knows from first-hand experience how quickly time passes, how quickly children grow up, how quickly excitement fades. Right now, my students are in the presence of a teacher who is so happy to share in this special, magical time.
©Kathie Z.
