Save Us From the Fire Alarm!

Picture this:

Every teacher and student in my entire school. Outside.


In the muddy field. The last period of the day. For 1 hour.


Because the firm alarm detected something.

Nothing the human eye or nose could detect, either. Just something.

It was hot, the kids were crazy, and as I have mentioned before, our school has to take all 1400 of our kids across the road, stopping traffic, and go through a tiny gap in the fence, to stand on the field.

This takes forever.

This time, since it was an unplanned evacuation, the kids started crossing the street before there was anyone to stop the traffic. So by the time the first teachers got there, the kids were darting across the street while the cars drove around them.

The cars didn't stop. NOT EVEN ONE stopped. They just drove through the kids.

So that was a nightmare, right there. The kids were being pushed onto the road by the thousands of kids pushing form behind, like penguins pushing each other into the water to see if the polar bears are there to eat them.

(And I'm sorry, but the adults who were still driving, you should be ashamed of yourselves! There was obviously a problem, since there were schoolkids in the road. Be adults and do the safe thing and stop! If our SRO (the school's police officer) had been there, I can promise you would have received several tickets. Use your brain!)

Anyway. They're going to work on that plan... what to do if it goes off unexpectedly.

So we stood outside for an hour. I took my kids all the way over to the track, sat them down, and told them not to move. Many teachers looked frazzled and constantly yelled at children who were attempting to escape to visit friends.

I had a good group, one that I didn't have to watch too carefully, and they mostly all stayed with me (save one notable exception, a boy who kept scooting farther and farther away, until he'd suddenly stand and make a bolt for freedom. I was a little annoyed by this around the third attempt).

They entertained themselves by sitting in a tight, little circle and singing. They sang "Kum-ba-yah," "Jingle Bells," and some ridiculous song that seemed to be about lemons that I had never heard before.

Then they played "Duck, Duck, Goose," which I doubt they had played recently.

I guess it wasn't a terrible experience, but I can assure you that period was a wasted period. We had just gotten started when the alarm went off, and then we got back and there was little time remaining, so the kids were so squirrely.

The funniest part was I was outside my classroom when the alarm went off (I was hanging up our comparison/contrast posters with my new ticky-tack) and when I went inside, the kids were completely panicked, since I wasn't there.

They knew where I was. I had explained what I was doing. I had the door propped open with a chair. I came back in every 30 seconds or so to get another one to hang up. They were working on their group projects, and they had been watching me, since they all wanted to tell me I was hanging up their poster.

Them completely freaking out demonstrates to me just how young they are.

Oh, well. I love them anyway.

(Except when I'm forced to keep them in a little group out on the track for an hour. Then I wish I didn't know any of them.)