The Girl Who Couldn't Smile Read Online Free PDF Page A

across the floor. She stopped dead,then followed up with a kick. I couldn’t tell if she’d hurt herself – she remained quiet, biting her lower lip.
    Each child in turn had a tilt at the tin. Finally Arga and Gilbert joined forces and, together, started to push with all their might. Susan made to stop them, but I shook my head. The lid of the tin was firmly taped down: knocking the can on its side would not pose a problem.
    It took them three great shoves. The can tipped over with a dull thud. Milandra whooped in delight, and Jeffrey shouted something. The children’s eyes were turned to us expectantly. I went over to the tin, lifted it up, and returned to Susan and Tush. The children had lapsed back into incredulous silence.
    ‘I’ve never seen them quite like this,’ Tush said. ‘I don’t like it.’
    ‘They don’t know what to do,’ I said. ‘They’re not used to working together, and they’re not used to being made to do anything they don’t want to. They want to stand up to us, but to do that requires a collective effort. Which is what we want.’
    ‘Well, I suppose that was them working together – sort of,’ Susan said. ‘But what’ll happen next?’
    ‘I have no idea,’ I admitted. ‘I’m hoping they’ll burn themselves out, sooner or later, and we can get some work done.’
    ‘I thought you had a plan,’ Susan said.
    ‘I didn’t say it was a good one.’
    ‘Or even a finished one,’ she added.
    Arga and Gilbert overturned the tin again, and the rest of the kids started on the others, rocking them from side to side until they tumbled over. When Gus and Ross had dealt with the last one, the children clustered together, Mitzi sprawled on the floor in the middle of them. All were panting after the exertion and seemed just a little less wound up than they had been.
    ‘Here’s what I suggest,’ I said, when I was sure the frenzy of paint-tipping was really over. ‘Why don’t we go into the kitchen and have a snack? We can talk about what we’re going to do today. Does that sound like a good idea?’
    There was a general round of nods and yeses.
    ‘Okay, then,’ I said. ‘I baked some banana bread last night.’
    We left the paint tins strewn here and there, and trooped into the kitchen.

6
    The children sat at the table in the kitchen, sulky and annoyed. We handed round juice and banana bread: I had warmed it in the oven and cut it into fingers. There was also some toast and jam for those who wanted it. When everyone was munching we started ‘large circle time’, a meeting for everyone at which we would plan the day. I knew from talking to Susan and Tush that such a gathering had not been attempted for a very long time at Little Scamps – keeping the kids away from each other was usually seen as desirable – but this was something we all wanted to change. In most crèches and pre-schools the day was punctuated by large and small circle times to give every child the opportunity to talk about what was going on. What’s the point in making a collage unless everyone has a chance to have a look at your work and tell you how good it is? I’ve seen centres where such moments of appreciation never happen, and children are left with a sense that most jobs are pointless. I didn’t want Little Scamps to be one of those units – children have to feel they have a voice, and that when they use it, someone will listen.
    That first meeting, though, wasn’t really about that. The children I was faced with knew very well they had voices.The problem was that absolutely nobody could listen to them because there was so much background noise and dangerous activity. I wanted to get the children used to dealing with one another and the staff through a medium other than violence, and food was a good way of doing just that. Most people naturally chat at mealtimes – food makes us sociable, amenable. I hoped that would be the case at Little Scamps.
    ‘Okay,’ I said, nursing a mug of coffee.