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chickens versus classrooms

Today I worked with a boy who would not leave the chicken pen. I tried all the tricks I had to get him to go back to class, but nothing worked. He stood firm, fingers preening the chickens feathers he held in his arms. I looked at him, he looked away. All of a sudden I had a great idea. He could take the chicken with him for the walk back to class. His eyes lit up, he raced for the gate. Then I realised that it would be the beginning of chickens running wild in the classrooms and through the school as all the kids kidnapped the chickens. He stopped, turned around, and stood again, eyes dropped, clutching his chicken tight. Tomorrow I’m bringing a stuffed toy chicken along.