For the last few weeks, my grade 12 class has been visiting a local elementary school and connecting with a grade 4/5 split. I love kids. I have wanted to be a mother since my brother was born when I was two. I was excited about the project since our teacher told us it was going to be happening back at the beginning of the semester. Getting a class, once a week, for six weeks was essentially a dream come true.
During the first few sessions, we read with a student. I rather enjoyed this, as it was much like what I had done two summers ago at the public library. We took turns reading, and I would help with pronunciation or define a word for them. The rest of the sessions, we helped these young learners write a story. As the big buddies, we extracted the plot out of the little buddies, interviewing them about characters, the setting, and the problem. After that, we helped them put their idea into words, before transforming them into a digital story using the iPad app “Explain Everything”.
I worked with quite a few members of the class over this time. I read “Matilda” and “The BFG” by Roald Dahl, before we began the story making process. It began beautifully! Within the first session, me and my buddy Lexi had formed up the entire plot, and were ready to begin the story. The next session, we began to put it most of it down on paper. However, this is when there was a kink in our plan. I got sick. Now, the last thing I wanted to do was give this child a cold, so I opted to stay home and recover. The next week, she was absent. I worked with another child during this time, whose buddy was absent like I had been the week before. The next session, she was absent again. This time, I worked with a child who had just gotten back from a vacation and had nothing. In our final working session, she still wasn’t there.
In the end, I had helped four students develop characters and ideas, but i had nothing physical to show for it. I understand that the main purpose of this wasn’t to create a story, but to create bonds, but I couldn’t help but feel like I let them down. I wasn’t able to finish any of the stories, and I worried myself to the point of physical ailment before the day we were showing them our creations. As I reflected on the experience, although it wasn’t how I had initially anticipated, I came to terms with what happened. Life threw at me what it did, and with what happened, I don’t think I could have possibly finished any of the stories in the time being. What I learned to realize was that these kids, although looking forward to their story coming to life, were thrilled enough at the mere thought of these big kids coming and helping them. I feel as if my biggest mistake was missing their smiles as they remembered the experience, and not being there to finalize the end of it.






