First/second, previously my nightmare class, has been downgraded to my headache class. Last week we did the whole "practicing coming into the room, picking up our books, and sitting down like human beings" business, and we did the "if you are not here to learn, leave right now" act with the holding-open of the door, and we played the "for every minute we waste we will stay one minute at nutrition" game, and we did the we-are-not-amused thing, and all of this kind of helped but not really. Then several of them failed their first test because they were not doing their classwork and were therefore unprepared. The "staying after" bit probably bothered them more, though.
And then, somehow - and I do not know how this happened - I found myself sitting down at eye level with two of my biggest troublemakers, laughing. They gawked at how I hold a pencil, and they showed me how to bend just the top joint of your fingers, and then they lurched at me like zombies, and we were sitting there, just laughing, and I had this epiphany. I had not laughed with this class at all. Not even once. And then I got to thinking, wow. All of the things that make me a good first-year teacher, when I am one - patience, humor, personal connections, individual check-ins and explanations - were completely missing. I was doing the authori-tah dance, and leaving them responsible for monitoring their learning - the complete inverse of my ideal classroom, in which they self-police and I make sure they're getting the material. It was a slap in the face. So things changed.
Today we were about halfway through class when Omar, one of my zombie-lurchers, raised his hand (!!!) and said, "Miss, we better today!" He was right, and he was happier, and I was happier. So the new strategy is, no irritation on my face. Not ever. We count down 5-4-3-2-1 for silence - they respond well to it, and it's the only signal that doesn't completely make me gag. When we have a problem, the problem kids come and talk to me, and each other, outside. It goes like this:
A, explain what happened. B, you just listen.
Now B, you explain what happened. A, you just listen.
Okay. What should you have been doing?
If you were both doing that, would X have happened?
What are you going to do when you walk back into my classroom?
Now tomorrow, I expect you to be my star students. Best in the class. Can you commit to that?
I look forward to it. Come on back in.
It's funny, but the part that makes the biggest difference is the "star students" bit. They really do commit to it, and they come through. It is amazing, and it's all starting to gel.
I was also observed today, with my seniors, who are the coolest, mellowest class. We did this A.MA.ZING activity called Cube Writing (Amelie, hit me up for a copy - get your kids to write developed 2-page essays in-class! No joke!) to come up with a first draft for the autobiographical sketch required in their senior portfolios. The class is small, which can feel awkward because it's necessarily more seminar-style and my students are used to being lectured at, but today it was cool. We were joking and learning about each other and my review was outstanding, which was nice. But really it was all about the feeling when it all works.
Who knows how tomorrow will go. I'm tempted, though, to just type up a handout for my seniors, then head to bed and leave this day perfect. Worry about it in the morning.
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Speaking of worrying in the morning:
Tomorrow is November 8th. To all my Cali people: Yes, it is supposed to rain tomorrow. I do not care. You get your asses out there in the rain and vote. Early and often, as they say. Influence as many people as you can. Be incredibly irritating to anyone not wearing an "I Voted" sticker. There is some mess on the ballot this time around, and we must send the message that we are tired of being jerked around by the government-industrial complex, and that we want Arnold, his cronies, and his financeers out of our schools, out of our unions, and out of our pregnant womens' wombs, minors or otherwise. With that said:
- NO on 73 through 78.
- YES on 79 and 80.
- And a resounding YES, for my LA people, on Prop Y. Pay the taxes, build the schools, and burn year-round minority sabotage to the ground.
But if you only remember one thing:
NO ON 74
NO ON 74
NO ON 74
NO ON 74
NO ON 74
2 comments:
"We did this A.MA.ZING activity called Cube Writing (Amelie, hit me up for a copy - get your kids to write developed 2-page essays in-class! No joke!) "
Dude I could use that.
Seriously - it will change your life.
(oh God I am becoming one of those freaky teacherpeople)
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