Oh, just your ordinary class trip

Unless you are a teacher or have been a camp counselor, it is hard to understand what it's like to travel with large groups of children. Today me, a handful of other teachers and thirty six nine year olds braved the mean streets of Brooklyn and ventured by subway and a freaking ferry to Ellis Island. Nothing about class trips are fun when you are the adult in charge. I don't care if you are going to Disney World, it is impossible to enjoy the sights and relax.

I take for granted what it feels like to walk down the street at my own pace, engaged with my own thoughts, calmly listening to my ipod. When I walk down the street with my students, I am busy with many different things. I am constantly counting kids, (terrified that I may have lost one) telling children that it is not okay to walk in one straight line across a crowded Manhattan avenue. I am telling Fred that no--we cannot stop to get a hot dog. I am busy explaining to Christian why he cannot play hopscotch and walk in a straight line at the same time. I am asking Mike to stop asking homeless men questions, and I ask Jane to keep her eyes open when she crosses the street at least three different times. Nope, going on a field trip with thirty-six 4th graders--not so fun.

Each student attending the Ellis Island trip were broken up into "families." We were taking the ultimate simulation as immigrants traveling to Ellis Island. My "family" consisted of myself (the mother), and my three children, Lily, Liam and William. As soon as I heard my group, I felt like I was actually in the 4th grade-- my heart sank. I knew that any shot of peace and quiet I may have had throughout the day was gone.

People have always told me that I talk a lot, I've been called a chatterbox all my life. But, William, (my son for the day) makes me look like a mute. Here in no particular order are the questions that Will asked me on our ten block walk from school to the subway at rapid fire speed.

"What is your favorite marsupial?" Do you know how odorless gas lost it's smell? Do you know which countries have never hosted the Olympics? Who was the president in 1832? Do you know how the woodchuck got it's name, Have you ever won the lottery? (Well, Will...if I won the lottery, I wouldn't still be here talking to you, now would I?) What do you want to be when you grow up? (Um?) Do you know that my twin sisters threw up last night? Listen William, I actually need you to shut the hell up so that I can concentrate on making sure that we don't die walking to the subway. Thanks.

Once we arrived at the subway things didn't get much better from there. The kids were like caged monkeys, swinging from the bars, and screaming to each other from across the subway car. (As if we were the only people on the train.) Don't worry, we were traveling at nine am, so it wasn't rush hour or anything. After an hour ferry ride, at which the kids complained that they were cold, hungry, tired, scared, and seasick-- we had arrived. (Feeling similar to the way that the immigrants did, I would imagine.) I was already emotionally and physically drained, and it was hardly eleven am. Our immigrant family just barely survived the day. We had a couple of setbacks, ya know--like William deciding it would be a good idea to play hide and seek at Ellis Island and not tell anyone that he was playing. Or like the minor back pain I was beginning to develop from carrying the groups lunches for three hours. I've been told that people immigrating to the United States kissed the ground when they arrived at Ellis Island. Yup, me too. I kissed the floor of my classroom, at 3:15 pm, when all of my students were gone.