Sorry Big Bird

I think it was somewhere between second and third grade that I lost my fascination with Sesame Street. I don’t remember exactly what caused me to stop watching. Maybe I gave in to peer pressure, maybe I had other things to do. Maybe I just outgrew it. Who knows. For whatever reason I stopped watching Sesame Street until after I became a parent.

Being an elementary school teacher, I see hints most every day that Sesame Street is alive and doing well. Everything from the songs I hear students singing on the way to recess, to pictures of Elmo on t-shirts and lunchboxes.

However, by the time students get into third and fourth grade they’ve all but forgotten about the loveable cast from the PBS neighborhood, or simply changed channels to watch a flashy band of spacemen defeat unbelievable villains with the help of an amazing laser-light show and some wild pyrotechnics.

At least I thought they had forgotten.

My school is broken down into three student populations. We have Primary, which is kindergarten to second grade. Next is Intermediate, which is third and fourth grade. At the top of the food chain are the fifth and sixth graders known as Upper.

In case you haven’t been in a classroom since you were a student, school is different these days, at least in my classroom. We don’t have rows of desks with the teacher’s desk up at the front and a podium for the teacher to lecture behind. We have tables and chairs with students working in different locations all around the classroom at their own pace. And my school takes great pride in the very “Montessori-ish” way in which it runs.

Because of the way the school operates we don’t really have problems with kids passing notes in school. I mean why pass a note when you could just go over and talk to the person.

A few years ago when I taught in Upper, there was a young Upper teacher, Ms. G. She was fresh out of college, full of energy and very cute. She was a popular teacher at my school with students and faculty members alike, but it wasn’t hard to tell that her biggest fans were the fifth and sixth grade boys.

This was one of the few times in my entire teaching career I actually intercepted a note in mid pass. I was walking between the tables on my way to help a student, when a boy, who wasn’t trying to hide his actions at all, thrust a note across the aisle I was walking in without looking back. The boy he was trying so desperately to communicate with wasn’t really paying attention, so the note passers hand, along with the note, sat waving like a flag on a windy day.

I grabbed the note, shoved it in my pocket, told the boys to get back to work and went on to help the other student.

I was in the lounge for lunch when I stuck my hand in my pocket and found the note again. Curious to discover what piece of business was so important that it had to be discussed on a scrap of paper during class, I opened the note.

It said something like this:

- Did you see Ms. G. today?

- Yes I did! And I liked what I saw…A LOT!

(The next line changed the way I would see Sesame Street forever.)

- Thanks to her I’ve had a Big Bird all day!

I laughed as I read the note aloud to everyone in the lounge.

Then I shook my head and said, “Sorry Big Bird.”



Note: I never discussed the note with either boy. I'm sure they hope that I didn’t read the note and that it just got thrown away. And I wonder how long they watched for the sign. The sign that means the difference between a note that had been thoughtlessly cast aside and a note that had not only been read, but shown to Ms. G.

Those boys are in high school now and part of me hopes they still wonder about whatever happened to that note. I think about that day and laugh out loud…because so did Ms. G.