I say to the group, “Tears, tears, teeeeeeeeaaaars. What are tears? Someone tell me?” Eight kids stare plainly back at me. I know this look. They don’t have a clue. I start to pretend to cry and I say, “Crying, crrrrying. Understand?” I wipe my eyes and the kids start laughing and nodding, finally understanding their new word.

I think of Lilly. The girl in 3H who sits to my right. In their Cinderella workbook, the kids mark away at their sheets, answering pointless questions about what they would like to dress up as. The group is much younger, full of seven year olds, so their attention span is wavering. I constantly eye each child, making sure they’re focusing on their work instead of their neighbor. I see Lilly, her thick rimmed glasses are set on her page. I know I don’t have to keep a watchful stare on Lilly, so I move to the next kid, Nate. He’s finished with the day’s work and moving on to the next set of pages to get ahead of the group. Lilly is stuck on the question where you have to write down what your friends will dress up as. Most of the kids have finished, so I lean towards her and suggest things for her to try. “How about Nate? Nate dresses up as Superman? or maybe…Nate dresses up as a kangaroo! C’mon Lilly. think of someone. Easy. Easy.”

Lilly puts her head on the table, which is forbidden. I tell her that she has four seconds to lift up her head. “Four…three…two…one.” Finally she lifts up her head, but all I see is red and tears start wrecking her face and I panic. “Honey,” I tell her, “Honey, it’s okaaay. You don’t have to finish it today.” I walk around the table to her chair and kneel beside her so that I’m at the same level, “What’s the matter, Lilly? Are you okay? Do you want to see a Korean teacher?” She shakes her head no. “Are you sure?” She shakes her head yes. I panic some more as the other kids turn to Lilly and began to ask me why she’s crying. “I don’t know.”

I move back to my teacher chair, deciding that I’d respect Lilly’s wishes to not visit a Korean teacher and just let her cry it out. Kids are kids, I tell myself. And it’s not like they’re gonna fire me.