Precision and the Missing Clock

I returned to my room at the learning center to find my travel clock missing and my student with a grin from ear to ear.

I used a small travel clock because the room in which I worked had no way to keep time, despite a rigid time based schedule, and I had an irrational devotion to the Swiss. My watch battery had died and cell phones were things of the future (Well, to me anyway, as I only reluctantly joined the club a few months ago. And no, I'm not updating this post by kerosene lamp).

"Did you take my clock?" I asked my student.

She was my first student, ever, and one I wound up seeing through high school. My relationship with her symbolizes the notion of the dialogic discourse (Freire) as I learned as much from her as I ever taught. Diagnosed with Central Auditory Processing Disorder and already well aware of what that meant thanks to her mother, a speech language pathologist, she let me know what she needed and I provided. Mostly, I sued my own background as a student in Catholic schools with rigorous curricula to translate the requirements of her school into terms she could understand. It went swimmingly and we became respected friends. So when she responded, "No," to my query, I knew she was telling the truth.

But, she kept laughing.

I searched the cabinet, the windowsill and the area outside the room. No clock. I asked her again.

"Did you take my clock?"

"No," she replied, her laughter increasing.

It was a conundrum, a logical riddle that bent my brain in a knot, much like the enduring appeal of the Kardashians. A missing clock, but the only suspect didn't take it. There had to be a logical explanation to it all.

Then, for whatever reason, it dawned on me. I exercised control over what I could. I changed my terms.

"Did you hide my clock?"

"Yes," she said bursting into laughter.

I learned three valuable lessons.

One, you must choose your words carefully. Even a degree off in a calculation can send a space shuttle millions of miles off course. The same goes for words.

Two, minor modifications can yield staggering results. Sometimes it is easy, sometimes it requires some effort, but the difference in improved communication is amazing.

Three, kids can be such stinkers!