Student: Oooo, Oooo, I know Mr. Douglas--George Washington, Abraham Lincoln, and...George Clooney!
I've been remiss in writing recently, but I've had several thoughts in the last few weeks that I want to capture. Here are three reflections on my classroom experiences over the last month or so:
Leaving the Kids with a Sitter
Several weeks ago, I left my students with a substitute teacher for the first time. Now, I don't have any children myself, but I imagine that what I felt upon leaving my students with a sub might not be to dissimilar from what a parent feels upon leaving his child with a baby sitter for the first time. I spent a significant amount of time the day before instructing my students on how to treat the substitute with the proper respect--remembering, of course, what we did to substitute teachers when I was in sixth grade. The day I was out, I spent most of the day worrying about how my students were treating the substitute, but also worrying about how my students might be faring with the substitute: would she follow the instructions I had left? Would she be sensitive to the needs of my English language learners, or to my students with special needs? Would she be mindful of the emotionally sensitive child who is all to often picked on by her classmates? As pleasant as it was to take a brief break, I've decided that I much prefer to be with my students, even when they are difficult and when they try my patience. I also learned that, when I must be out, it's in my interest to find a rather unpleasant substitute--it helps my kids to appreciate me that much more.
Playing "The Game"
In my credentialing program, we often spoke of students learning to play "the game of school"--the set of unwritten, unarticulated rules for success in the public school system. The idea was that knowledge of this "game," with rules written and enforced by the culture of power, could facilitate academic success independent of understanding of content or intellectual ability.
I think I've discovered another game that is played in the classroom. I've noticed an interesting pattern among students I keep after class for disruption. The conversation during class might go something like this:
Me: Travis, we do not throw paper/shoot spitwads/chew gum/listen to ipods in this classroom.
Student: What? Me? But I didn't do anything, I was just sitting here..
Me: No need to be dishonest, I saw what happened, it just needs to stop now.
Student: No, Mr. Douglas, I swear, it wasn't me...
This could go on for several minutes. Some students, I think, would like for it to go on for longer. I stop it by telling them we'll discuss it after class, and this is how the conversation picks up:
Me: Now Travis, tell me honestly, were you throwing paper/shooting spitwads/chewing gum/listening to your ipod during class?
Student [with surprising meekness]: Yes, Mr. Douglas. I'm sorry.
The change in attitude, in demeanor, is surprising, but perhaps even more surprising is the ease with which they admit to wrongdoing when their classmates aren't watching. Now, their classmates all know what they were doing, to be sure, but they won't admit it, won't "lose face" in front of the class. It's almost as if the bell signals a "time out" in the classroom game, when the rules change, and it is somehow less threatening to admit to the teacher that it was, in fact, you who just threw that paper airplane. Or, perhaps its simply that, once the bell has rung, they know the easiest way to get me to release them is to admit guilt, actual or imagined.
If only teachers really did have eyes on the backs of their heads.
Columns and Rows
Last fall, as an assignment for a course in classroom management, I had to sketch my ideal classroom layout, paying attention to such things as where students attention would be focused, how easily all student could see the board, how easily students might transition from whole-class discussion to small groups, and in general what kinds of messages the layout would send about the desired culture of the classroom. It didn't seem like a terribly significant assignment at the time; at any rate, I had minimal control over the physical layout of my classroom as a student teacher because it was not, in fact, my classroom. Now, however, I am awed at just how much time and thought I have put into the physical layout of my classroom. Even before school started, I went through at least three or for iterations of my original "ideal" desk configuration. The one I finally settled on looked something like this:
I hoped it would provide a good compromise between rows and a circle-- a setup that would facilitate class discussion, but would also establish the front of the room as the primary focal point. It only took me a couple of weeks to decide that I really disliked this setup, however. Whichever half of the class I faced, I always had my back to the other half. I've discovered that, with sixth graders, it's best if I can see them all at once, all the time. Now, I have them in groups of four that easily transition into rows if necessary (pictures of this setup are on their way), but I'm beginning to discover some drawbacks to this setup as well. Part of the problem, I think, is that the students simply get to comfortable, so I have to change things up every once in a while to keep them on their toes. So, now, it's back to the drawing board for my classroom layout.
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