David and the Pa, Pe, Pi, Po, Pu

The kids we work with at The Center are a diverse group, each with a unique story and different needs.  I work with 14 kids in 1st grade, along with Toty Quiroga, one of my co-workers.  A 1:7 ratio of teacher to student should be more than sufficient, but the particular group of kids we work with are SO attention starved and out of control that it feels like we need another 2 helpers!!



               David- age 8

Each week I want to feature a kid who I work with so that you can know how to pray for each kid better.  The first kid I want to introduce you to is David.

 Unlike some kids at The Center, David consistently comes every day.  He walks down the hill with his Quechua mom, Doña Margarita, eyes hidden under a camo broad-brimmed hat, but smile shining out from underneath.  As you might be able to tell from David's pictures, he has some mental problems which make it difficult for him to focus, understand, and emotionally relate in appropriate ways.

Often, when I'm working with other kids, David will interrupt with, "Plofe!"(instead of "Profe").  David also has a speech problem, replacing his "r"s with "l"s, among other problems.  Usually he wants a high-five after each word he writes, and once he gets it, he'll happily return to his work until he finishes the next word.

Because David struggles to focus, and also thrives on attention, he'll dart out of his seat to pinch a neighbor, slap a kid hard at work in the face, or steal a prized possession.  Then he'll run around the room, delighted as the furious other kid chases him, trying to hit him back.

David's smile is infectious, and he flashes it all the time, even when Toty or I are reprimanding him.  It makes it hard to get frustrated with him, or to stay mad when he misbehaves.
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David walks into the classroom, pinching a classmate on the arm as he walks by, and throwing his arms around me, giving me a huge smile.  "¡Hola plofe!" he says with a wide grin.  He sits down at his desk and starts to copy sound groups.  Pa. Pe. Pi. Po. Pu.  He finishes a row, and yells, "¡Plofe Kati!  ¡Mira, plofe Kati!"  I walk over, glance at his neat cursive letters, and give him a high-five.  30 seconds later, he's finished just 2.  Pa, Pe.  He wants another high-five. Pi. High-five. Po.  High-five. Pu.  High-five.

I move on to help another student, and David has darted out of his seat, swiping another student's eraser and throwing it on the ground.  The other kid, furious and distracted from the hard work he was doing, races after David, fist raised and ready to hit.  "David, go back to your seat," I say.  "¡No!" he yells, flashing another smile and yanking on my shirt.  Eventually I coax him back to his seat, and we start all over again.  Pa.  High-five.  Pe.  High-five.  Pi.  High-five.  Po. High-five.  Pu. High-five.  I sigh, and settle in for a long afternoon of practicing patience and Pa, Pe, Pi, Po, Pu.

David working on homework