T O P I C :

A Double Standard

Megan poses the question: I have the most amazing group of seventh graders, but they are constantly talking, and it's a struggle for me to get them focused. We, my mentor and I, have tried several different seating arrangements and a reward system, but when I am in the classroom by myself, they don't see me as the teacher. I have been teaching three or four classes for about three-to-four weeks now, and it's always a struggle for them to follow my directions; however, when my mentor says the exact same thing, they immediately stop talking and focus on the task at hand. I speak at approximately the same voice level, and we have a bell to ring to capture attention, but I find myself ringing it far more than she is.

I am getting to the point where I feel disrespected. How can I get my students to stop talking, listen to directions, focus on the task at hand, and view me as the teacher?

Posted October 2, 2008

R E S P O N S E :

Tap Tap Tap

Grace Pendergrass writes: I think you and I were having many of the same problems in our rotations. I felt like when my mentor teacher left the room, many of my students saw that as a time to "get silly." I started to try a few things that appeared to work. First, I would stare at my watch and tap my foot. I felt that yelling or even raising my voice wouldn't earn me any more respect. Then, I would just sit down and cross my arms.

Sometimes — with my classes that really liked me — these things worked. I often kept the class after the bell for the amount of time they wasted. I loved it when I would tap my foot and the self -shhhhing would begin. I know it is discouraging, but you have to keep trying.

In one class, I really lost my cool one day. Then, the next day, I started talking about respect. I framed my discussion of respect in a way that I needed their help to earn my mentor teacher's respect. This worked in some classes, too.

Posted October 28, 2008

R E S P O N S E :

Endless Angles of Approach

John O'Berski writes: My first rotation mentor suggested developing a (withering) "teacher look" and waiting until every student had come to pay attention before attempting instruction. She also made an occasional example of a particularly unruly student by demanding they get out their (discipline) pass and punching it in a no-nonsense "I am really angry and disappointed" manner. This worked pretty well for her, and eventually I followed suit in a couple of cases.

My second mentor more often resorts to the "if we don't get this work done in class you will have to do it as homework" tactic. These kids DO NOT LIKE HOMEWORK. Yesterday I was working with them on a story map (on the ELMO) and suggested that, if they continued to goof off or disrupt, I would stop helping and let them work independently and complete the task as homework if necessary. When one student continued to talk out-of-turn and off-topic, I resorted to the old, "You all can thank your friend M. for having homework tonight, since we clearly are not going to be able to finish this." At this point, everyone shushed and scolded their peer to a much better effect than I ever could.

I try to vary my tone from comical to serious, depending on the disruption, and let the students know explicitly if I feel it is time to knuckle down and focus on finishing our work without comment. On a very few occasions of open defiance, I have offered the possibility of continuing the discussion later in the principal's office. I am loath to even threaten thus, but mainly mean to clarify that the classroom cannot afford to continue focus on an individual student's issue at the expense of everyone else.

Lately, I have tried to reassure my students that I have chosen to be a teacher not because I am interested in punishing kids, but because I truly believe in the benefits of improving their ability to think, enjoy literature, and express themselves. I try to come up with "real-world" scenarios — such as asking for a job or pitching a multi-million dollar movie idea to a studio, expressing love or proposing marriage to someone you hope will take it seriously — and compare the possible outcomes of the "grunt-and-point at what you want" approach versus the "clear, sincere, well-supported and intelligent appeal to an appreciated audience." They may laugh, but I suspect that most of them make the connection.

Surprise them with seemingly endless angles of approach.

Posted December 3, 2008

E-mail your suggestions and comments to fbowles@uark.edu