Since I am “at that age,” I often look at my wee students and want to hug them or squeeze their little potato feet. Imagine my surprise to discover that the sentiment might go both ways – this week, I have been felt up by not one, but two of my own young students.
Now, if it had just happened once I might let it go as sheer clumsiness – 6 year olds aren’t exactly known for being graceful. Yet, in two separate classes I called out for students to “touch green,” “touch yellow,” and when I called out the color that I happened to be wearing, two little girls each raced up to me – not the many posters in the room that showcased “blue” and “purple” – and grabbed a hearty handful of my breast.
Since I assumed that my students’ actions were innocent, I let it go (not without squirming slightly on my cushion). After all, I have heard of far worse – back when we first began teaching, Bob had to field an attempt of the dreaded kancho and another teacher I spoke to reported that one of his students tried to kancho him with a pair of scissors. Yet, I will have to be on the lookout for more of this behavior. After all, though I really adore my young students – and though I recognize that the sight of my exquisite bosom might in fact inspire them to prefer mixed race women in authority positions over little Japanese boys – I simply cannot allow our relationship to include “Touching Time.”