Vindicated

Wednesday. I was covering the special ed co-teacher of a tenth grade English class. Which contained several familiar faces. 

(That's what happens when I do long term assignments. Several of the students were also in Mr. J's math classes.)

The general ed teacher, Ms. C, warned me that it would be a boring day. It was their third and final day to complete an in-class essay. (The in-class part and written by hand part are kind of necessary to combat the chance that the kiddos might try to use AI instead of writing it themselves.) 

The topic? They had just finished reading Night by Elie Wiesel. They were to use the text and another source to talk about dehumanization and the importance of bearing witness. (The English classes spend a lot of time on teaching them not only to write but to analyze texts and use higher order thinking skills.)

Sixth period. Lots of students had questions, so I was trying to field some of them so Ms. C wasn't doing all the work. A girl raised her hand.

The girl was working on her concluding paragraph, and she had forgotten a transition phrase. Could she just squeeze it in? 

Considering how this essay was being done, I didn't see a problem with that. And I said so. I told the girl she could double check with Ms. C, but it should be okay.

Ms. C got to the girl's desk. The girl asked the question.

And... My instinct had been correct. This was not a problem. (The girl had another question, too. My answer again matched Ms. C's.) 

I guess I do know how to do this sort of thing. 

Although, not all of the students wanted my help. But some of the questions were more in depth, so it was better that Ms. C, who had taught them the book, answered them. Like, one student asked specifically where one incident occurred as he needed to refer back to it in his essay.