A first

In the last four years, I've learned a kind of sign language called SEE so that I can communicate with a kid (Call him M) in my group who is deaf and uses a cochlear implant. That's the serious part... forthcoming is the part where I can hardly TYPE these words without blushing, and dying laughing.

This afternoon I was playing a game with some kids (Including M). It's a little like a cross between Set and Boggle. Anyway, a third grader said "I wish there was a 'T' so I could spell 'Shit'." She said it so matter-of-factly, I adored her for it. She smiled at me when I said, shocked and charmed "That's a bad word, you can't say that here." She nodded. I congratulated myself on my measured reaction. I'ts not life and death, noone's in trouble. I'm not freaking out like her "real" teacher might be, because I'm cool. All the kids who are old enough (and one precocious Kindergartner with big sisters) gasp and look at each other and me, frantically. I continue playing it cool.

M says "What did she say?"

All 5 sets of eyes swing over to me, tennis-spectators' style. They've seen me interpret as much as I possibly can for M, even stuff that he's bored by or doesn't want to "hear".

"She said a bad word, and I..."
"Which one?"

I hoped I could get out of this somewhat gracefully.

"The 'S-H' one." beat... beat...

"What is that word?"

I feel a tremendous urge NOT to censor. Generally, when kids use language they shouldn't use around me, I use it back to them in my message, to disempower the word, take the sting out. "Please quit saying "hell" in this classroom, you know that's not appropriate." is a sentence I've used many a time. (With more complicated language when I worked with adolescents.)

At that moment though, I had to TEACH the kid a cuss he doesn't know... in front of other kids who KNOW the word and know that a teacher should NOT be saying it in any form. The kids stared at me as though I was a volcano about to explode, a kid about to eat something on a dare... could it happen?!!

I "whisper" to M. I fingerspell behind my hand s-h-i-t. He watches attentively. I'm relieved by his wise nod.

"How do you say that?" ugh!
"I'll tell you later."
"How do you say it? I want to know!"
"I can't say it, M. I'm a teacher and you're my kids I can't say a bad word right now."
"Write it down and I'll sound it out."

Ok. Fine. I'll rely on literacy practice to rationalize this one. Better on my notepad than on some bathroom wall, I guessed. Astounded at what I was doing, I wrote "SHIT" in all capital letters on the page because capitals are easier for kids to sound out and I wanted this over as quickly as possible. The other kids, compassionate as always stayed quiet and didn't laugh or anything. They could see that this was just another kind of development, another way to pick up information to which they already had access.

It hadn't occurred to me that he would sound it out OUT LOUD.
"Shit" he said clearly, looking at my pad.
I tried not to laugh and not to look at any of the other kids.
"Yes. Good reading. Now don't say it anymore, it's a bad word that you can't say at school or here."
"Ok. What does it mean?"
"It's another name for poop. But it's not just a bathroom word, it's a BAD word and you might get in trouble for saying it."

and then it was over. The other kids have all been trained in careful politeness, and they acted as though nothing had just happened. As I stared at the letter cards, I thought of my sister who told me that women in the deaf community tended to get pregnant more often by accident because they miss out on so much nuance and overheard sex education that the rest of us pick up from our surroundings and popular culture. I comforted myself with this.

I told his dad at pick up time, of course. No big whoop, which is what I expected.
"Third grade, that's about right." He said. M came over.
"What are you talking about?"

We both started signing. I said "I told him that I taught you a bad word."
"Oh yeah. Shit."
I giggled a little I think and reminded him not to say it. His dad clarified "it's rude". I like that better. As someone who cusses all the time (outside of the classroom) I obviously don't feel that the word is "bad". But I know that it's rude, and that's why I didn't point it out to the little girl when all the letters for piss came up.