I'm not a stickler for the rules.  I encourage conscientious objection.  I do not want a room full of conformists following every rule as it is written.  As long as humans write the laws, they will be open to interpretation.  However, I cannot tolerate disrespect.  I have a rule for myself about classroom management.  When someone breaks a rule and needs correction:

1. I ask politely the first time.  I want to correct the behavior in a positive way, dropping a friendly reminder.  Soft voice, eye contact, polite words.
2. I issue a command the second time.  I make it imperative, dressing down my original statement, removing the polite words, speaking sternly, and intensifying my facial expressions to match the urgency of my request.
3. If I have to ask a third time, it will not end well for you.  Write ups, phone calls, parent teacher conferences...

I've had some success with this method.  I started thinking about the steps I take when a kid acts up, and realized that I was doing this process without outlining it for myself.  When I forgot my routine in the heat of the moment, I used to skip straight to step three.  Now, I calmly take a moment, remind myself of my procedure, and I get a good result on the first try.  Not everyone complies, but that's my cue to bring forth the consequences.

I remember being in high school.  I'm not going to sit here and say that it was the greatest time of my life, but I looked forward to going to school and learning about something new each day.  I looked forward to socializing during lunch, not during class.  I realized that I was working toward the goal of higher education, working for an unwritten future outlined by the choices I made each and every day of my life.  Not too many of the kids in my school can say the same thing.  The students who echo my sentiments are losing out on enrichment by the derailing forces surrounding their desks in every classroom.  When I think of the instructional time I lose each day to behavioral corrections, I feel ill.  I do a pretty good job of managing my classroom, but if I'm losing 10% of my instructional time each and every period (about 4.5 minutes on a 45 minute class) each day, by year end I will have lost 10% of the school year, roughly ONE MONTH of instructional time.  

Those few minutes spent enforcing common sense rules can add up if you don't nip them in the bud.  To avoid time loss, I keep the kids working.  I try not to give them any time in which to idle their minds.  My scenario above is a scary estimate.  Most days, I might lose a minute or two to management issues, and I cannot expect perfection from the kids I'm teaching.  Few have anything resembling a work ethic, but I push them to get their work done, and most days, we accomplish something worthwhile.

Spring Break can't get here soon enough.

For a week prior to the cutting day, I talked about the dissection in class and the maturity and deference required to get the most from the experience. As the week passed, three of my problem children were suspended for various tomfoolery, leaving me with fewer gremlins to worry about and assuaging my fears of putting scalpels in their hands. I managed to pump the kids up and get them really excited about the learning experience.

On the day of the cut, I posted three rules on my board in BRIGHT RED MARKER.

1. ZERO TOLERANCE.
2. SHOW RESPECT.
3. ASK QUESTIONS!

No rules would be broken today.  Break one, you're out, no second chances.  Respect must be paid to the scientific specimens who gave their lives so that you could learn today.  Do not play with the parts, do not cut unless instructed to, and treat it with the care deserved by a precious, living thing.  To throw in a positive, I encouraged them to ask lots of questions, which they did!

Everyone who showed up on time for class and heard my rules had no trouble meeting my expectations.  To minimize management issues, I put the kids into four groups of four and rearranged my room along an aisle, putting two groups facing me on each side as I walked up and down the middle to help individual groups.  I watched closely for the first few minutes, saw that they understood my expectations, and then I began to circulate throughout the room.

During the dissection, one girl asked me if she could take out her cell phone and take pictures of the pig as her group explored it.  I was hesitant at first, but I laid down ground rules for phone usage and let them take pictures.  I figure there is no harm in documenting the experience.  Engrossed in the activity, no one attempted to text message, call anyone, or play any games on their cell phones while they had them out.  For once, I have found a positive effect of cell phones in the classroom.  When they go home from school, they can show their parents something cool they did in class today.  Anything that gets them thinking about science outside of school is dandy in my book.

All went well until one girl who strolled in late decided that it would be great fun to cut off the pig's tail and twirl it around like a helicopter blade.  I asked her where it said to make that cut in the directions.  No answer.  Did I say to make that cut?  No.  Should you be twirling the tail around like that?  No.  I reiterated my message of respect and familiarized her with my expectations for the experience.

Fast forward to the very end of the experience.  Our eviscerated pigs have been dissected and it's time to clean up.  I see the pig mutilating girl picking up her tailless pig and dancing it on the dissection tray for the amusement of her friends.  I'm pissed off.

"What are you doing?  Put the pig down.  Show respect."
"But Mister, it was nothing, just having fun."

"Would you like it if someone picked up your body after you died and made you dance?  Would that be funny?"

"YOU'RE IGNORANT!  YOU'RE IGNORANT!"  She screams this at me several times, leaving me dumbfounded.

"No, I'm not ignorant.  You are.  Take your stuff and get out of here."

I suppose she did not like the fact that I pierced her veil of immortality, clueing her into the fact that she, like the pig,  will meet her own demise someday, which led her to the rousing conclusion of my ignorance.  Clearly, she is a vampire or other undying being and I was insensitive to this fact.  Silliness aside, I removed her from class without delay.

POSITIVE:

• My poster mosaic project of the animal cell worked out really well for my Anatomy class.
• Due to the success of that poster mosaic, I plan to do one with my Biology class on the plant cell.
• Kids were engaged in the video I showed in Chemistry.  They had to complete a worksheet that spit out a fill in the blank question about once every minute, which required them to pay attention.  One girl commented that she really liked this because she learned better this way.  Honey, it wasn't the video that made it easy for you to learn, it was the fact that you had to PAY ATTENTION to get the answers.  I tricked you!

NEGATIVES:

• One girl refused to honor a simple request to put her hoodie into her locker.  I had to ask her three times before she finally relented, and she made some comment about "y'all teachers are crybabies over nothing."  I gave her a detention.
• In Biology, I have started the "Not Good For You" name box.  I put your name in there if you need to work on your behavior, to check oneself before one wrecks oneself.  I abbreviated it to NGFY, which I like to think means "Now Go Fuck Yourself" when I put a student's name in the box.  Of course, I won't let the children in on that little chestnut.
• 8th period went fairly well, except I had to take a cell phone from a girl.  She had it out in her lap and occasionally her hands went into her lap for a few seconds.  Either she was masturbating or text messaging, so I needed to get to the bottom of this situation because I don't allow either one in class.  Seriously, they think teachers are blind and stupid.  If they only knew how much stuff I ignored in a period, it would blow their minds.  Anyway, I tell this girl I need to speak to her after class.  It goes downhill from there.  She starts demanding her phone back, which is not a real good strategy to pursue.  I keep telling her no, and she leans over my computer, huffs and puffs, and says "GIVE - ME - MY - PHONE - BACK!!!"  I tell her no and I hand her over to administration.  
• On top of that, cell phone girl had missed the last four days of school and when she wasn't texting, she was sleeping in class.

Wednesday is my long day with two block periods in it.  I hate Wednesdays, I hate spending 90 minutes with these two groups of kids.  Both groups are immature, but the difference is that one is a 9th grade group where immaturity can be expected and the other is a 11th grade group where maturity is expected.

Get me past Wednesday and it feels like the weekend.

I spent half of my half day with my most loathsome class. I was glad to see that three notorious troublemakers decided to stay home. I figured class would be smooth, and it was going just fine until one girl tripped over her chair and fell to the floor pretty hard. I rushed over to check on her, and she was full of drama, totally milking her moment, and I could tell she was fine. I gave her a minute and asked her to get up. As I'm helping this girl to her feet, I notice three knuckleheads laughing their heads off on the other side of the room. I deal with my injured girl, let a friend escort her to the nurse, and address these cackling morons on the other side of the room.

I pointed North, South, East, and West at my classroom rules. I asked, what is rule number one? "Respect everyone and everything in the classroom!" I lay into these kids, asking how they would feel if they were injured and everyone else was laughing at them as they writhed on the ground in pain. They didn't get it. One girl kept laughing her fool head off, so I closed her lab book and told her to get out of my room. I held her book out, waiting for her to take it, but she was too busy laughing to acknowledge my order. I threw her book at the door and said "GET OUT, NOW." Suddenly, it wasn't funny anymore. "Oh, how can you throw my stuff? Gonna disrespect me like that?" "Go," I said, adding "You're not respecting me, my classroom, or your classmates, so why should I treat you with any respect? GET OUT."

She huffed off, out the door. A boy piped up to offer her defense. I told him not to get involved. He told me I was wrong for throwing her things. I told him that I didn't care and that if he kept talking, he would join her. He kept talking. I told him to leave. He huffed and puffed his way out the door.

I put out a few more fires, none worth mentioning. I love their sense of entitlement. I explained that my classroom is not a democracy, it's an absolute monarchy with me as King, and I make the rules that they will follow. Break the rules and you're gone. This isn't up for discussion or a vote. If you make it hard for me to do my job, I make it hard for you to pass my class by kicking you out, costing you points and valuable classroom time.

They came back next period, telling me that an administrator said they should come back to class. I told them that they weren't welcome back and to get lost for another period. I've given these kids enough chances. I tried for five weeks to work with them, but they just don't get it, so it's my way or the highway. I'm not going to screw up the educations of the fifteen other kids in the room who cause no disruptions to try and save the five assholes who want to disturb my class. They lack maturity, and by age 16, I expect maturity, a modicum of decorum.

It's a long weekend. I've got Monday off and I plan to enjoy it. Four teaching days next week. I love short weeks.

I dread the end of my day. One should look forward to the end of the workday, but I can't stand my 8th period. They annoy the hell out of me and make it nearly impossible to do anything constructive. I spend a ton of time correcting juvenile behavior. I wrote two detentions today for throwing things. THROWING THINGS. I needed to tell a group of juniors taking an upper level science class that they shouldn't throw things at one another. I held four kids after school. They whined and complained about the places they need to be after school, the time I'm forcing them to waste. "We have things to do after school," they said. I asked them why I should value their time after school if they don't value my time in the classroom. I made it clear that if they waste anymore of my instructional time, I will gladly waste their time every single afternoon for the rest of the year. If I can't teach, I can't prepare them for the standardized test at the end of the year, and they will fail.

A few of the kids had little epiphanies. Lightbulbs went on. It started to make sense.

We'll see if they take it to heart. I can't say I'm optimistic, but I'm less pessimistic? I'm realistic. I know that these kids will screw up again. One good conversation will not change their behavior. I've tried getting their parents on the phone. DOO DOO DEE - I'm sorry, the number you have dialed is not in service. Thanks for your support, parents. I think a correlation exists between disconnected phone lines and disconnected parents. I'd say they're phoning it in, but clearly, they're not taking any calls.

A girl is about to walk into my room first period this morning. She has nothing. Not a pen, not a notebook, not a shred of intelligence to point her to the fact that she is utterly unprepared. I stop her and ask her where her things are.
"Oh, they're in another teacher's room."
"Go get them, don't be late," I say.
"Are you going to write me up if I'm late?"
"I'm going to write you up if you're late or unprepared. Better to be late and prepared than on time and unprepared."
"That's not fair! I'm going down to the office, you can't do this."
"Go right ahead. What do you think they're going to say?"

She went off in a huff. She comes back about 30 minutes later with her things and a tardy slip from the desk downstairs. I change her status from "Cut the Class" to "Tardy." Quietly, I write her a conduct referral. I take the slip over to her at the end of class. She's shocked, in total disbelief, that what prophesied and promised came to fruition. She gets out of her seat in a hurry. I notice something on her chair, something she left behind.

I call her back.
"What do you want?"
"I think you left something behind on the chair."
She takes a glance at the chair, blushes a little, and picks up the weave that fell out of her hair when she got up in such a huffy hurry to leave my room.

Kids, will they ever learn?

I pride myself on classroom management. I do it well for 7 periods each day. However, when it gets to be 8th period, it's a crapshoot. It's the end of the day and the kids in that class just will not shut up. This is a Regents level class and we have things we need to talk about each day to progress toward our ultimate goal of standardized test success in June. I feel that these kids might be able to pass the test, but they are not yet mature enough to show me that they can pass the test. They are making me question their readiness for this class. By the time a student gets to high school, I expect him or her to be familiar with manners and etiquette. I need to send all these children to charm school.

Here's my procedure with detention slips. I don't tell the kids about the detention until the end of class. I don't need to set them off at the beginning of class and ruin what could be a productive day of work. When I get them working independently, I quietly sneak off to my desk and write up the detention slip. At the end of class, I will ask the young offenders to stay for a quick chat. At that point, I ask for a parent or guardian phone number I can call and hand the slip to the student.

1. My first award, for tardiness and a lame excuse, goes to the young man who showed up late from gym when everyone else who came from gym made it on time to my class.

2. My second award, for utter unpreparedness, goes to the young man who strolled into class with absolutely nothing in his hands and immediately plopped his head down on his desk. I warned him in the hallway that he needed to get his things from his locker and he didn't listen. I kicked him out of class for his lack of materials. Not even a pencil on the boy!

3. My third award, for excessive talking and use of foul language, goes to the young man who likes to talk to people across the room and quietly hush curses at his neighbors. He seems to be the catalyst for derailing the class and it is my mission to make his year a painful one unless he changes his ways.

4. My fourth award, for mischievous behavior and disruption of my class, goes to the young lady who borrowed another student's glasses. I noticed she had glasses on when she walked in but thought nothing of it. Maybe she wore contacts before, maybe she got a new prescription. About 10 minutes into class, a boy strolls up to my room from another class, knocks on the door, and asks to see the girl with the glasses because the boy to whom the glasses belong requires the use of his glasses in his other class. When I wrote up her infraction, she failed to see the harm in disrupting my class or stealing glasses from a kid who is otherwise blind without them. I made some analogy to borrowing a wheelchair from a double amputee, but it fell on deaf ears.

5. My fifth award, for excessive talking and poor manners, goes to the young man who let forth a disgusting belch and disrupted my class. When I addressed the issue, he thought that it was okay to burp like that because he said "Excuse me." I asked him if it would be okay if I farted in his face and then said "Excuse me." He said it wouldn't be okay if I did that. I told him that it's not okay to burp in my classroom and that, as a 16 year old boy, one should have learned methods of discretion when passing gas by now and, barring discretion, he could hold it or excuse himself to the bathroom should the need to belch arise again.

6. My sixth and final award, for disrespect and failure to comply, goes to the winner of my first award who came late to class. When I gave him his detention slip, he didn't like it. He said he understood, but he didn't like it. When it came time to dismiss the class, he got up and left without following the proper procedure. I asked him to sit back down and try again, but he decided to throw his hands up and walk out. He won two prizes in one period!

I made my follow up phone calls, trying to drum up support at home. I talked to parents or left messages. I hope to see something positive come out of this slew of detention slips.

I was observed by an administrator yesterday.  I don't mind being observed, but I would like the courtesy of notice.  She walked in unannounced, sat down with her laptop, and started taking notes.  She's doing this to everyone I guess.  I was teaching lab at the time so I had the kids actively engaged in small group work and I roamed around the classroom for 45 minutes, helping each group and answering their questions about the activity.  I'm sure she will find some fault in the lesson, but it will likely be minor.  She observed my 3rd period class.  I've got a bunch of good kids in that class who listen and take their work seriously, so I didn't catch any off-topic conversations or goofing around while I was teaching.  However, I may have missed some things as I was busy helping everybody.  I think I did well and my administrator told me that my lesson was excellent when I talked to her for a few minutes after class.  She probably tells that to everyone, but it's nice to hear it.  I have a short meeting with her today to discuss what she wrote up about my lesson.  I'm expecting a good review.  Had I known that she was planning to visit my classroom that day, I probably wouldn't have done anything different, so she randomly picked a good time to see me.

I watched the Vice Presidential debate last night.  It was the first time I ever watched a VP debate.  Biden clearly won the debate with his eloquence and intellect while Palin managed to complete her sentences and actually reference laws and votes without totally stumbling over her words.  We are supposed to be impressed with Palin because she managed to stand at a podium for 90 minutes and not come off like a complete nincompoop.  Personally, I think her small town charm is phony and vile, her lack of experience is evident and alarming, and her selection to run for the second highest post in the United States government is asinine and insulting.

I wrote up a couple kids on Friday. For some odd reason, they don't want to show me the proper respect. I asked one girl to straighten herself in her chair, to stop lounging, as if she were at home on the couch, with her legs propped up on another chair. I believe she called me both "jerk" and "asshole" before swinging her legs under the table. I let those comments slide, pretending not to hear what she said. Anyway, I have her for 90 minutes straight and she's pouting the whole time. During the break between classes, she tips over her chair and pushes all of her stuff off of her desk. I catch her roaming the room, looking for things to knock over, and I take her aside and talk to her. I tell her that knocking over my chairs and her own stuff is disrespectful to the classroom environment. She fails to see where the action of knocking her stuff off of her desk is somehow disrespectful to me. I explain that it is disrespectful to herself that she would want to comport herself in such a way. She did not understand this, replying that pushing stuff off of her desk is not like cutting herself, which would be disrespectful to her self. Clearly, she cannot distinguish between physical and mental disrespect. I use my chair as an example, saying that it is disrespectful to knock over my things and that I would not push her things off of her desk because that would be disrespectful to her. She grumbles and groans, the bell rings, and I get on with the quiz I'm giving in the next 45 minutes. I wait until the end of the class to give her the detention slip she earned for her disrespect to the classroom and she is not pleased when she receives it.

I had to write up a second girl for poking another student in the butt with a pen. One offense was not enough for this girl and she decided that talking during my quiz would be a good idea. I wrote up the slip at my desk, planning to give it to her at the end of class. She needs to go wash some ink off of her hands. She follows the proper procedure and I begin to write her a bathroom pass. I mention that I wrote her up for her transgressions and attempt to hand her the slip. She doesn't want it. She takes her bathroom pass and mumbles her way out of the room. A few minutes later, she violently rattles my door in a futile attempt to get through my locked-by-school-policy classroom door. This disrupts the entire class. I open the door and point her over toward the lockers.

"We have a problem. No, scratch that - you have a problem and I have a solution. Your behavior today has been totally unacceptable and you are not meeting my expectations. I can't have that and you can't be successful in my classroom unless you understand and meet my expectations. So, how should you be acting, what are my expectations?"

"I need to sit down, be quiet, and do my work."

"Can you do that? You haven't been able to do it yet today."

"Yes, I can."

Meanwhile, as I'm talking to this young lady in the hallway, I can hear whistling and laughter coming from inside my classroom. I poke my head in and tell them to knock it off and get back to work. I hear one more whistle and I walk in and announce, "One more whistle and you all get zeroes on the quiz. I'll rip up every single one of your papers and you all will fail. Make the right choice."

That actually worked. I was able to spend a few minutes talking to this girl about her behavior and I think we came to an understanding. She even gave me her father's up-to-date phone number, which I thought was an excellent move on her part. I tried calling it after school, but he didn't answer. At least the number is in service; the number provided by the school gives me "The Cricket number you have dialed is no longer in service."

Our happy ending was short-lived. She pulled out a deck of cards after she was done with her quiz and began quietly shuffling them in her lap, thinking I wouldn't notice. I don't miss much. I confiscated her cards. I gave them back to her at the end of the day, showing her the part in the student handbook where it warns against gambling, and told her she only got them back because she gave me her father's new number. Hopefully, it will be a trust-building compromise. I need her to cooperate because she is a major source of disruption in the classroom, the bellwether that signals the other kids to start misbehaving.

I thought I'd keep this entry short as I've been writing long posts as of late, alas, no luck. Feels good to get it all out and put it down. Reflecting on these first few weeks of school in this journal has helped me to see improvement in my most reviled bunch, the troublesome 8th period. Baby steps to be sure, but I think we're making inroads to success.

I went on a field trip Tuesday. We went to a local park. Literally, this was a field trip. We emptied the buses and let the kids loose. Some played football, some went hiking, some hung out in the shelter. It was several hours of pointless nothing. Supposedly, the activity was intended to build camaraderie amongst the sophomores. The trip suffered from poor planning. The kids had few options for activities, and the existing options were not thrilling the sophomores. At one point, we had no lunches for the kids due to some SNAFU in the food order for the day. One chaperone waited until he received all the boxed lunches and he drove them out to the park for us. I would not place this on a shortlist of great field trips.

Wednesday saw me back in classroom action. I had to proctor a standardized test for the first four periods of the day. The kids were pretty good, but I definitely busted some balls. I wrote the schedule up on the board and I intended to stick to it. The test was administered in several parts and the kids were allowed two short breaks during the three hours of testing. Nothing was going to stop me from staying on schedule.

A few girls decided that they wanted to take their time getting back into the testing location before the exam started. I went out into the hall and found them, letting them know that I was about to begin reading directions for the test and that they needed to be seated immediately. "I'll be there in a minute." Seriously? Did you hear a word I said? I told the girl to close her locker and get inside now and was met with more attitude. I repeated myself, this time changing my tone and adding a slight scowl to my face. This got them moving, but one girl continued to talk back. I took her aside and told her, "You're wasting my time and messing with a whole lot of trouble. I don't want to get you in trouble, so take your seat now." Clearly unreceptive, I was met with "UGGGGH - stop talking to me!" in response. I'm not a big fan of this girl. I told her to stop talking and take her seat or face the consequences. She storms out of the room. I don't think I said anything to set her off, but I begin reading test directions, starting without her. A few minutes later she returned to the testing room. She sat quietly and took her test. We didn't need to speak to one another again.

After we finished the test, her friend decided that she didn't want to listen to me either after she spilled her bottle of hand sanitizer all over one of my lab desks. Naturally, she denied responsibility for the clear goo all over my black desk top and she refused to clean it up. I asked her if it was her hand sanitizer - oh, it was, but she didn't spill it. I told her that it didn't matter and that she needed to be responsible for her things. She decided not to clean it up. As the bell rang, I handed her a detention slip. "OHHHHH, YOU WROTE ME UP!?!?!?!?!?!?!?" Yeah, what did you think I was going to do? I told her that had she merely done as I asked and cleaned up after herself she would not have received a detention. When she passed me in the hall later that day, "OHHHH - YOU WROTE ME UUUUUUUPPPPP!" She was not taunting me, not trying to provoke me, just stating the obvious probably to remind her low-watt brain that she indeed found trouble earlier this morning and would face a consequence for her actions.

Kids, will they ever learn? I sure hope so.

My Friday started off fairly well. In fact, my first six periods of the day went as smooth as they usually do. On Wednesdays and Fridays this year, I have been promised a special kind of hell. It's a 90 minute block period full of chatty, disruptive kids. No doubt you've heard tale of them before.

I go in optimistic. I had a solid 90 minutes planned and intended to keep them on track to accomplish my objectives. I launch into 7th period, my lab period in the block, and I begin to go over First Aid and Laboratory Safety. Topics certain not to keep anyone on the edge of his or her seat, but important procedural stuff I need to get through, reading the fine print on my laboratory portion of the course. They scoff at First Aid and I assure them that people have died in the name of science and they would be well advised to pay attention. Life or death situations urge focus. I get them through that and my next course of action is to introduce and pass around various tools and equipment that we will use in the laboratory this year. They need to know the difference between a Florence flask and an Erlenmeyer flask. Pinch clamp or test tube clamp? I intend to quiz them on these things at some point and I make certain that I announce my intention. They're fading fast, I'm losing them, worse, they're losing me, embarking on their own course of disruption. I'm about to setup a small demonstration when the bell rings.

I let them use the bathroom, go to their locker, enjoy four minutes without my supervision. Perhaps this is a mistake.

The bell rings and I find myself in the hallway dealing with a late student. From inside my classroom I hear a tremendous shriek. A long, screeching horrible noise came from the back of the room. I can't let it go unpunished, so I want names. I stop class. First, I ask nicely for the shrieker to step forward and accept the consequence of his or her action. No takers. I have narrowed my selection to a few repeat disruptors, but I'm not sure who did it. Moving on, I ask for someone to volunteer to name the shrieker. I escalate the consequences; if I don't get a name, then we're all staying late today for detention. Somebody must know who did it and I want to get to the bottom of it. Okay, so you don't want to say it out loud. I offer the option of writing it down on a piece of paper. Tear off a slip, write down the name of the offender, and I will punish the individual, not the class. I get one slip from a girl which bears the initials IDK. If YDK what IDK means, here's a lesson. I Don't Know. Great, thanks for the input. You truly aided my investigation. Realizing that keeping the kids late is not a feasible idea, I instead levy the consequence of 40 minutes of silence for the rest of the period. Finally, someone comes forward to take the blame, understanding that everyone knows who did it but was afraid to tell me.

I thought I could move on at that point, but they wouldn't let me. I attempted to get the lesson back on track. They derailed my efforts. I enforced the 40 minutes of silence. I awarded a zeroes to everyone for a lost day of work. I launched into a monologue about my expectations, their reputations, and how the twain ain't exactly meeting right now. I refused to teach them until they were ready to learn. Prove to me that you are not the same students that I heard horror stories about last year. Yes, teachers talk. I told them how I tried to keep an open mind, tried to see them for who they were and not for who I heard they were, and that I cared about them, as corny as it sounds, and that I wanted to see them succeed. Sure, they chuckled when I said that I cared about them and told them that I do not do this job for the paycheck but for the chance to mold young lives into something meaningful. They laughed, but it hit them regardless. Sincerity smacks you right between the eyes. Shrug it off, sure. I know they will carry it with them for a little while and it is my hope that they take it to heart and understand that I am here to educate and empower, not to punish and belittle.

They stayed mostly silent for the rest of the period. I assigned new seats to limit socializing. I reiterated that I expected better behavior on Monday and wished them well on their way to the weekend.

The weekend helped me distance myself from this unfortunate class and give me time to reflect. Given the chance to do it over again, I would handle it differently. I would not punish the whole class. I need to minimize disruptions and maximize authentic learning opportunities. Perhaps, in a significant way, this was an authentic learning opportunity, giving certain individuals a poke in the ribs necessary to jolt them into maturity. Optimistic, check. Realistic? Not likely.

I have much, much more to write and no time left tonight. I should have been in bed 30 minutes ago. A long day awaits.