Yuka

With her long, raven pig-tail braids, glasses, school uniform, and pink backpack, Yuka makes a picture-perfect Filipino 2nd grader. Her mom is always nearby to chat at the beginning and ending of the school days, and has already given me a big cake and bananas. Yuka is always the first to greet me with a big hug at the beginning of the day, and has never left the school grounds without finding me, whatever I might be doing, giving me a hug, a kiss on the cheek, and waiting for a kiss from me on her cheek. Then, in “Leave-it-to-Beaver” fashion, she runs out the door yelling at the typical top of her lungs, “Goodbye, Teacher! I’ll see you tomorrow! Love you!”

With all of these endearing characteristics, you may find it surprising that there is another side to Yuka that is not so hidden: Yuka the three year-old. Whenever she doesn’t get her way, is not first or almost first in line, does not get a sticker, does not get a big sticker, is offended in the least by her classmate…she begins crying uncontrollably. Not just tears slipping down her face quietly—no, at the top of her lungs, huge tears, coughing and choking—like a three year-old. Obviously, it’s disruptive, and her classmates react differently—some try to appease or comfort her, while some get annoyed and tell her to be quiet.

Thankfully, I was warned about this behavior, so it wasn’t too shocking, and I actually enjoy some good behavior modification every now and again. She’ll start crying, and I’ll ignore it at first, then get close to her and tell her that if she has a problem, she can raise her hand and I’ll come help her work it out, but she cannot continue to disturb the class. If she continues (which she usually does), I make a move for the leaf chart. All the kids have their names on leaves, and they all start in the green zone—good behavior. There are three stages in the green zone, then there’s the yellow, then the red. Each section has it’s own consequence, from being last in line to the principal’s office. There are also rewards for staying in the green zone each day. Kirsten set it up, and it works quite well for most of them—especially Yuka. I’ve moved her leaf over to the warning category a few times and she freaks out. So if I make a move to do it again (which makes her last in line)…Oh man, she straightens up real fast! Now that we’ve been through it several times each day, she is learning that I am not putting up with it. And I am learning that I need patience. ☺

But often it’s just plain funny to me, and I try not to laugh. The other day, we were coming in from lunch, and she had just come inside and handed me her juice and lunch so she could put her shoes back on and go back outside to look for something. “Yuka,” I said. “You cannot go back outside. Lunch is over, and we need to be inside. You can go look for it after school.” Crying eruption begins. Finally (and I do mean finally) she makes it to her desk, barely smothering sobs after a few leaf moves. And then I had a little pity in my heart. “Yuka, if you can tell me what it looks like and where you left it, I can go find it while you stay here.”

“It was a can of juice, and I left it on the porch.” More tears gush from her eyes.

“Yuka. You handed me your can of juice when you came in the door. That’s what you gave me when you said you needed to go find something. Look, it’s right over there on that desk where I put it.”

She looks over and sees it. “Oh really?! OH! I forgot!” a sheepish smile covers her face as she realizes what happened. She’s back to her normal, happy self just as quickly as it all began.

Funny thing, though. After school, there was the can of juice still on that desk. Oh Yuka. Bless her heart.