Hoop Therapy

I’m working as a special ed. paraprofessional this year after 36 years as a classroom teacher.  One thing I get to do with kids in my new role is give them movement breaks.  We do this generally for kids who have difficulty sitting in a classroom chair for long periods of time.  One student I work with, J., definitely fits that description.  He is having a rough time in his class this year.  There are several kids who seem to take him down a negative path.  He has a temper, and he finds himself getting in trouble regularly. He’s developing a bit of a reputation.  

One-on-one with an adult, he’s thoughtful, mature, and a great conversationalist.  We play soccer in the hallway or basketball when the gym is unoccupied.  These are short sessions, but we’ve both come to enjoy them.  

Today as I approached J’s classroom, I found one of his classmates sitting inside a locker, his head in his hands.  I asked if he was okay.  He shook his head.  “What’s going on?” I asked.

“I’m having a rough morning,” he mumbled.  I looked at my watch.  8:45.  

“Can you tell me about it?”

“I have to go to my violin lesson.”  This surprised me. Most kids really like their string lessons.  “And I’m  gonna miss gym.”   

“Ah ha.”  At that point J. came out of his classroom, ready for his movement break.  He looked down at his classmate in his locker and then looked over at me.

“He has a lesson later today, and he’s going to miss gym,” I said.

“Oh.  Well, that’s why I never signed up for an instrument.” J. shrugged.  I wasn’t sure that was really what Locker Boy wanted to hear.  

“The good news is it’s a rotating schedule.  You’ll only miss gym once every six or seven weeks,” I offered.  Locker Boy grunted.  At that point the boys’ teacher came into the hallway and ushered Locker Boy back into the room.  J. and I headed for the gym. 

We were just starting down the stairs when J. turned to me.  “Hey, do you think E. could come with us?”

“Who’s E.?”  I asked.  

“The person you were just talking to.  He’s missing gym.  At least this way he’d get to play a little basketball.  It might make him feel a little better.”

I looked at J.  A minute ago he didn’t seem to be feeling much sympathy for E.  He seemed mostly interested in getting to the gym to start our game.

“We can ask Mr. Q. if it’s okay,” I said.  We turned and walked back to the class.  I warned J. that he should ask quietly so he didn’t disrupt the class.  He walked up to his teacher and very politely asked if it would be okay for E. to come with us since he’d be missing gym today.  Mr. Q. said it was fine. 

The boys played an intense one-on-one full-court basketball game for 10 minutes.  They were evenly matched and actually pretty winded when my timer went off.  I’m not sure how much longer they could have kept up the pace.  

As they walked back to their classroom, J. turned to E. and said, “Feel better?”

E. grunted.  “I can’t believe I let you beat me.”  He smiled.

Translation:  Much better.  Thank you.  That was nice of you to invite me.

• Slice of Life