❤️Moments, Even During Standardized Test Makeups

 (Several folks suggested I share this story more widely ... so here it is.  Educators aspire to the big, splashy moments; but, in all honesty, what keeps us going are the smaller ones - and they are usually all about kids....)

A 4th grader enters the room, seeing yet another opportunity to share some  big news, this time with the person proctoring makeups: me. 

While I am setting up the test session on my laptop and students are arriving and opening up their chrome books - fourth grader Maurice quietly sidles up next to me. I hear him whispering and quickly realize Maurice’s whispers are intended for me. 

“Mrs. King, I can spell pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis.  It’s p-n-e-u-m-o-n-o-u-l-t-r-a-m-I-c-r-o-s-c-o-p-i-c-s-i-l-i-c-o-v-o-l-c-a-n-o-c-o-n-i-o-s-i-s.  It has 45 letters. I counted them and it’s true. It’s one of the longest words ever and it’s even in the dictionary. It’s a lung disease.”  

Maurice quickly walks back to his seat, then looks back at me, smiling. I give a big smile back and add a thumbs up; he seems satisfied. He begins to log on to the test. 

Now, this is all very sweet - but realize he has managed to share this all in one very fast whispery breath (What did he say?) Fortunately, I knew the word - children of this age often come across it in a random Ripley’s Believe it or Not book and obsess on memorizing its spelling.  Years ago, this would happen in my own 4th grade classroom - often becoming its own spelling disease, of sorts, with kids constantly challenging each other to spell it. I remember once giving spelling test bonus points for students who could spell it - backwards. Another time we played the classic “How many words can you make with the letters in pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis.” (By the way, if by now you want to know how to pronounce it … check this out: https://dictionary.cambridge.org/us/pronunciation/english/pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis)

Back to the present-day testing session. And to Maurice. This 9-year-old would soon do something with that 45-letter word I had never seen anyone do  before. Ever. 

About thirty minutes pass. I do the classic proctoring moves - check on student progress, offer life savers, give the occasional pep talk and time check. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I notice Maurice beckoning me with his index finger. His eyes are electric; he can hardly contain himself.  Of course, I obey and go over to his test spot. 

Once I see his laptop screen, the one he is excitedly pointing to, I understand.  He starts again with his rapid whisper. 

“I had to read about frogs and then write about ‘em, and describe how they do all this adapting stuff in their habitat to stay healthy. Stay alive really. So, I did, and I used facts and stuff, see (he points) just like it said to. But theeeeeeeeennnnnnn, see this? (points again, lower down on the screen.) I thought of a way to really impress those reader people. So, yeah, I added a fact they may not know, see. An EXTRA - I also think frogs stay extra healthy in their habitat because they never never never get pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis.  If they did, I bet they’d die of really sick lungs. But they don’t. So, there - I think I am done!” 

His whispering ends, punctuated with a huge grin.  I grin right back, and give a double thumbs up.  Maurice submits his test and signs out. I’m still grinning. So is he.  

Yup, Maurice had something he wanted to share, and he managed to do it. I imagined the reader/scorer at some faraway testing center. Would they understand? Would he get points off for adding extraneous information? Or, extra points for a unique voice. Maybe they’ll take a break to look up the word or even listen to its pronunciation. I kind of hope so. But all that doesn’t really matter. What matters is Maurice, and the fact that he knows the word pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis. He can say it. He can even spell it. 

One more thing: because Maurice shared this important news with me today, it’s become a really important part of my day, too.  Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis. Great word, isn’t it. If you didn’t know it before now, thank a 9-year-old. 

Kids. They teach us a lot. Every single day.