walking away

Read more slices at Two Writing Teachers

Waiting for the silence to return, I hold our current read aloud book in my hand. I breathe and continue lifting Kathrine Applegate's words off the page and awaken the story of a mighty silverback, an artist, trapped in a shopping mall.

An old banana peel would work, I've eaten them all.

Not-Tag is brown. My little pool is blue. The yogurt raisin...

Before I finish the sentence a loud burp speeds like a fire on a fuse across the classroom blasting off rambunctious laughter, once again shattering the moment, shaking my inner balance.

Feeling that my reptilian brain has taken over, knowing that  I can't think rationally, afraid of how my emotions might affect my reaction,  I slowly, without a word, place a bookmark in between the pages, close the book, place it on a shelf, take my tea cup, and walk out of the classroom, head down a long hallway towards the water cooler, fill my cup, take a sip, take my time walking back, thinking of what to do.

My students know how I feel about the read aloud time. Respecting the sound, honoring the words, appreciating the gift of story- this is what allows us to get lost in the book - therefore I have low tolerance for noise during this part of the day. When the flow of the reading is interrupted, I may pause before continuing, or stop reading altogether. I understand that N's intent was not aimed to distract the reading or get me upset. He just couldn't resist the temptation to get the attention of his friends. 

Before I reach the classroom door I see C - N's best friend, companion in silliness, first to burst into laughing - standing in front of the class, holding my book and reading our loud to others.  Everybody listens.