There are all types of misbehavior in a classroom, and a myriad of ways to handle it. When something occurs, I tend to first think about the effect on the class. If it is making anyone feel unsafe, then I deal with it quickly and seriously.
If it is not, then I think of the student’s motivation to cause the behavior: boredom, their being upset about something else, not wanting to do work, wanting to prove their coolness, or in order to antagonize or test me. A fairly rare type (at least by this point, halfway through the year), and the type I pounce on most viciously, are those students acting to antagonize. Most of the rest can be effectively dealt with by concern, positive feedback, or a honed “teacher stare”- an amazingly powerful weapon.
However, that doesn’t work all the time, especially with Alexis*, a student in my first period class. Alexis is a classic case of not wanting to do the work. He speaks and writes Spanish better than English and he is a very social kid. He would much rather converse with his peers than read books or write essays, and he has a hard time controlling himself. Alexis and I get along well, and I know that his continued talking is not meant to upset me, but he will often receive the “teacher stare” multiple times in one class because as soon as I look away from him, he starts again.
This type of misbehavior is hard to respond to effectively. Taking a drastic measure, like sending him out of the classroom, won’t help matters because during silent reading time he would much rather not be in the classroom. Positive reinforcement when he is on task is useful, but it doesn’t seem to override Alexis’s temptation to talk.
Two days before Christmas vacation (also known as one of the two most useless days of the school year) I got truly frustrated with Alexis. I spent twice as long as normal just getting the students seated, with their materials out, and their books open. The class wanted nothing to do with silence. Finally, FINALLY, I got them quieted down and reading.
I turned to my desk to mark the attendance. I heard Alexis talking to the student next to him. I turned and gave him the stare. He stopped. I turned back around. After a minute or so, he started again. I stared. “Sorry, Miss” he said and put his nose back into his book. I went over to help another student and I heard him again.
Part of me wanted to yell and scream, but the situation didn’t warrant that. Then I remembered something random Adam had given me about a year before. Adam has an interest in design and he had stumbled across these cards, which are very plain white business cards that say STOP TALKING in small serious letters in the middle of the card. He got me a pack of them. They are intimidating cards. I walked over to my wallet where I keep one, took it out, and silently handed it to Alexis.
The effect was astounding. He looked confused and then gave a chagrined half-smile and bobbed his head down a little. He looked up at me sheepishly and said, “Can I go read in the back?” I nodded. He gathered his stuff and started walking from the front of the room to an isolated desk in the back of the room, the card in one hand. As he walked down the aisle, other students reached out to see what I had handed him. He paused for a second and then shook his head gravely and kept walking quietly, down an aisle of outstretched hands.
He read silently for the entire rest of the time. At the end of class, he walked back up to me and handed me back the card. We didn’t discuss it at all.
I can only assume Alexis thought he had stumbled on to some whole new aspect of discipline, that he had violated something large and beyond his knowledge of the system in which we operate… that there was and is a whole further level of things.
If only that was true!
