spare the rod: part three

When I stopped seeing my relationships with my students as primary, central relationships in my life, it helped me to understand my role as a teacher much better. I had a job to do, and by becoming overly emotionally implicated, I was not fulfilling my responsibilities. In different contexts, this might not have been true, but when I became a CEGEP teacher, it became extremely clear. In particular, wanting my students to like me and think of me as cool was interfering with my ability to run an effective classroom.

In other contexts, a relaxed, friendly approach often fostered a warm and enjoyable atmosphere. In CEGEP, however, I teach students from all disciplines who have no choice about being there. Some of them are resentful, disruptive, and extremely emotionally immature. Some of them make a game out of disturbing the classroom atmosphere and “performing” their boredom and disengagement. If my desire not to be seen as an “authority” prevents me from dealing with these students in a firm way – and for many years, it did – their behavior continues unchecked, becomes the controlling force in the classroom, and derails the learning and enthusiasm of the other students.

I recently heard one teacher I respect talking about another teacher I respect and saying, “He doesn’t suffer fools.” I thought: Not suffering fools is an excellent philosophy. If I stopped suffering fools, I wonder what would happen.

To that end, this semester I have decided not to suffer fools. I am demonstrating this in several ways.

1. For the first five weeks, every class, I asked students who didn’t have their books or hadn’t done the reading to leave. Most of the time, they did. Sometimes, students I knew hadn’t done the reading stayed anyway, and after class I explained to them why I didn’t want to do that. A few times, students who HAD done the reading left with their friends, and I let them go. This seems to have had the effect that: a) almost everyone now has almost all their books, b) when it comes time to do work on the readings, students who haven’t done the reading now leave voluntarily or ask if they should leave, c) a few students who clearly had no intention of regularly doing the readings have dropped out of my courses.

2. Instead of gritting my teeth when students do things they are not supposed to, or asking them to speak to me after class (knowing that they may or may not do so, causing me further anxiety), I now reprimand students immediately, in front of the others (“Bobbi, please put your cell phone away. It doesn’t matter if you’ve finished your work. If you want to play with your phone, please go out into the hall.”/”Khaled, please take your earphones out of your ears.”/”Boys, if you’re going to talk amongst yourselves while other people are addressing the class, you can’t stay.”) I may be imagining it, but my impression is that this show of authority reassures, not only the students who are behaving themselves, but also the students who are misbehaving, that someone is in charge. (This goes back to my “Dog Whisperer” philosophy of classroom management: students want a “pack leader;” if someone else takes charge, they don’t have to, and they can relax.)

3. Serious infractions are met with serious consequences. The other day, students in one class wrote a test. On their test guidelines, I wrote and highlighted an instruction that they were not permitted to take their cell phones or any electronic devices out for any reason, even to check the time. I reviewed this instruction with them before we began.

About halfway through the class period, I saw a student in the corner punching buttons; when he saw me looking at him, he tossed something under his papers. I went to his desk, lifted his papers, and found his cell phone. I took it and told him I would speak to him when he was done writing.

When he handed in his papers, I took him outside and told him that whatever grade he got on this test would be divided in half. “Why?” he demanded, and I told him, “If you prefer, I will give you a zero, which is the real penalty in a case like this.” (I know about all the arguments against giving a “compromised” penalty – I made a judgement call, and I feel it was the right one.) He said, “But I was just using it as a calculator to count my words.” I reminded him of the instruction, including the words “DO NOT TAKE THEM OUT FOR ANY REASON,” and said, “Next time I give you an instruction, please take it seriously.” Then I handed him his phone and returned to the classroom.

The following class, this student again made a display of not following instructions, but a more tempered one, and this display will again be met with clear consequences and another little talk. I am not sure what the outcome of this little battle will be, but I feel fairly sure that I am approaching it in the best way possible, and that ignoring such behavior would lead to much worse problems. (It has in the past.) But I will see.

4. Most of the time, I choose the groups students will work in. If they try to switch into new groups without asking me, I switch them back. They have, for now, stopped trying to resist my groupings.

5. Students who do a halfhearted job on small in-class assignments receive only half credit. Students who hang out in the hall talking to their friends during group work receive no credit. Students who do not come to class are not allowed to make up assignments at home unless they have a medical reason.

And so on.

All this doesn’t come naturally to me, but the effort is paying off for me emotionally. I spend a lot less time stewing over student behavior. Students who are doing their best seem to be grateful. Most of the students who are testing boundaries are accepting the boundaries when I enforce them, and are approaching me with, not only greater respect, but greater friendliness. (Two boys who made it clear from the beginning that they were going to test me in every way possible also regularly pass by my office to say hello and see how I’m doing.)

Those who are still resentful may continue to be, or they may grow out of it, or they may just learn something that will help them grow out of it later.

None of this is easy, but I try to remind myself that everything I do is an experiment.