Mealworms

Mealworms are not gross.  Mealworms.  are.  not.  gross.

This is the mantra that I mutter to myself as I pass out the plastic dishes containing individual mealworm abodes.  I need to mutter it under my breath, a little crazily, because I can't let the kids hear me.  Much like parental influence, there is such thing as teacher influence, too.  If the kids see that I am less than impressed with these tiny, wriggly creatures, they might strike the same tune.  I don't want them to sing my scaredy cat tune.  I want them to sing the brave and objective tune of scientists and observers.

So we press on, oats and apple slices in hand, to learn about these curious specimens.

We learn that mealworms aren't actually worms.  They are in their 2nd of 4 growth stages, the larval stage.  They are in the stage where they eat, and rest, and eat, and rest, ad nauseum.  This lifestyle will enable the mealworms to move forward into the next stage, the pupa.  Once they are finished with the pupa stage, they become darkling beetles. 

I will not lie.  I will not say that our classroom was a hushed laboratory as we coaxed the mealworms from their cozy plastic border homes.  

The classroom was full of noise and occasional muted screams as our insect charges wriggled, escaped, got lost under desks...

But we pressed on.  Again.

We measured.  We observed features.  Six legs.  Antennae.  Body shaped like a cylinder.

We inspected via magnifying glass.  We saw two eyes.  We saw different shades of color.

We invented elaborate play pens for the mealworms so that they could no longer escape our clutches.

We had the best time.  Even this scaredy cat teacher.  We charted the average length of our mealworm set:  3 centimeters.

Huh.  3 centimeters.  Such a tiny little insect but so much energy and features of interest.

Being an elementary school teacher is like constantly facing your fight or flight instincts.  I knew that I was "done for", proverbially speaking, when a cricket visited my classroom on my second day EVER as a teacher.  Its shiny, terrifying black eyes stared up at me defiantly while 13 sets of human eyes looked at me expectantly.

I couldn't take flight.  I had to fight.

And by fight, I mean that I had to stay calm.  I had to pretend to be at peace with this gross bug.  I had to enlist a tiny scientist to dispose of it humanely.  Bugs are a part of the game in second grade.  I accepted that begrudgingly, and I accepted it immediately.

Kids teach you a lot.  They help you get over your fears in a lot of ways.  I never thought we would study mealworms.  But we did it.  We did it because they have taught me so much.

Mariana is calm as she assesses the length of the mealworm.

Sophia is learning that her mealworm likes to be evasive.

Mia and Julia trade best practices for mealworm observation.

Hannah helps Kevin with measuring.

Brilliant!  Mariana, if you're inventing this sort of contraption in second grade, I'm going to be amazed at the inventions you create when you're older.

Julia takes careful notes (and names her insect) as we work to determine the average mealworm length.

Success!  3 centimeters is our final answer.