Today I was walking into class and one of my students Talia ran up to me and stopped in front of me. Toe to toe. Eye to eye. (Well, more like eye to shoulder.)She was intently looking into my eyes for some sort of salvation. With all the urgency and volume the daughter of an Italian and Iranian could project, she blew the foghorn and made her plea for attention. Her presence was made loud and clear.
"Talia," I consoled wincing, and taking advantage of the teachable moment continued: "I'm right here. Is there another way you can ask for my attention?" (Expecting, of course, that she'd drop her energy level a few decibels.)
Without missing a beat Talia backed up 5 paces and, with the exact same amplitude and enthusiasm as before, continued with her story.
I guess I'm the one who got the lesson in that teachable moment today: 1/ Italian is a volume, not a language. 2/ Watch out for the hand gestures. I was lucky she backed up.
