Over the last 16 years I’ve had every imaginable kind of kid in my class. I’ve had football stars, future head cheerleaders, and everything in between. And while I can’t think of a student who I couldn’t find something about to like, I’ve always had a soft spot in my heart for the quirky kids.
I’m not sure exactly why. Maybe it’s the fact that no one needs to be liked more that the a quirky kid. Maybe it’s because I just want to see that quirky tortoise beat that over-popular hare. Maybe I simply like to root for the underdog. Whatever the reason, I think I can identify with the quirky kid just a little bit better. Who knows why?
If the conversation turns to quirkiness, students I’ve really enjoyed teaching, or yes, even smart kids, my thoughts always turn to Miles.
Miles was in my class quite a few years ago. Miles is by far the quirkiest student I’ve ever had, he is also quite possibly the most gifted student I will ever have. I was drawn to him right from the start.
Miles came into my class with a wealth of knowledge that was light years ahead of most of his classmates, and in many cases, his teacher too. However, I truly believe that he was unaware of this fact. In his mind the game had a level playing field and he was just one of the players.
I’m not sure if I really ever taught Miles anything, with the possible exception of the lesson that stabbing one’s self in the leg with a pencil is NEVER a suitable self-punishment for misspelling a word. A stunt that he only pulled twice in my class, (both times on the first day of school) before we had a hallway heart to heart that was quite intense and to the point. (No pun intended)
I also don’t know if he knew he was a little different, but just didn’t care. Or if he had no idea, so it just didn’t matter. Either way, Miles marched to his own beat, but if you wanted to tag along, Miles was happy to have you along for the ride.
Miles’ dad was some sort of scientist, I think. He had a great sense of humor, an infectious laugh and was really fun to be around.
One time he volunteered to be the parent reader. Most parents brought picture books, or grade level appropriate novels, but oh no, not Mile’s dad. He brought a book about nuclear fusion. When I tried to tactfully question his choice of books he told me that this book was hilarious.
“You see,” he said, “this book was written so long ago that most of the concepts, that at the time were considered to be earth shattering revelations, have long since been proven to be false. Or, simply no longer have any real meaning in today’s nuclear world. We’re going to have a blast with this!”
I just nodded and sat back to watch the show.
Imagine, if you will, a room full of third and fourth graders sitting on the floor with a scientist and his child sitting in front of them. Both the father and child are reading from an outdated, college level, nuclear textbook, while the class is sitting there trying desperately to recognize even one word.
I was actually very proud of the whole class. You could have heard a pin drop. Their glazed eyes and vacant expressions said everything you needed to hear.
As it turned out, Miles pretty much had the entire book memorized. Occasionally he would blurt out something like, “Oh Dad! Flip over to chapter six where they talk about molecular co-adhesives of binomial fusion transformations!”
Then dad would say, “Oh yeah! That’s back on page 267! This is the funniest thing you’ve ever heard!”
He’d turn back, read the section, and father and son would be sitting there in tears. Meanwhile the class was hoping I would get the hint and put an end to the madness. But there was no way, because the three of us were having the time of our lives!
They were having fun poking fun at antiquated scientific theories that nobody else in the room, including me, had any hope of understanding. I was having a blast watching the other students squirm, drool and contemplate suicide.
In the end, a good time was had by all! (Well, maybe not the lesser-gifted 99.9% of the class, but only I was watching them.)
Like I said, there's just something about a quirky kid that calls to me. Maybe birds of a feather really do flock together. I don’t know.
What I do know is, if you’re a quirky kid, and your name is on my class list…then baby, you’ve found a home!
