I just reread my previous post and am rather tickled by the optimism it suggests. Or rather, I would be tickled if my mood were lighter. Instead, I am giving student-like derisive snorts as I read my way through it.
Let me contextualize this by saying that I am recovering from a very bad flu, a flu that has been colouring my view of everything for the last few weeks, particularly my job. I am almost better, but am taking a sick day today as insurance against a relapse. As a result, I am avoiding seeing one of my classes, a class the thought of which is almost bringing me to tears today. As I read through my thoughts on setting boundaries and being a “pack leader,” I feel like gently patting myself on the back and saying, “There, there dear. You did your best. And now you understand. It’s hopeless.”
Almost a month ago, just before we left for midterm break, I gave this class another of my “little talks.” (Tentative lesson #1: “Little talks” are a waste of time.) This “little talk” came about because the class before, I had assigned students to random groups; some had simply not moved into their groups but had stayed with their friends; when I confronted them about it, they were surprised that I was bothered by their actions. Also, the same students were continuing to talk amongst themselves when I or others were talking, and nothing I did seemed to be changing this. Here, in a nutshell, is what I told them:
- I left last class really angry. Some of you seemed surprised at the fact that I was angry, so I thought I’d give you some explanation.
- For the last few years, every semester, there is a point at which I come THIS CLOSE to quitting my job, and there is usually one class in particular that brings me to this point. This semester, you are that class. It’s not because I don’t like my job. I love my job – that is, I love being a teacher, but I hate being a babysitter. My job is not to babysit you.
- My job is also not to entertain you – we’re not on a date. It is not to provide a place where you can entertain each other – you’re not on a date, either. My job is to provide a place where people who want to learn can learn. More and more, as time goes on, it seems that no matter what I do, I feel, at the end of the day, that I haven’t done my job.
- I put you in groups sometimes rather than letting you form your own because in my professional experience, people learn better this way. When you don’t follow my instructions in this regard, or try to “get away with” things in other ways, I find it both personally and professionally insulting.
- I get angry when you talk to each other instead of listening when I and others are talking, because, not only is this rude, but it is distracting – if I can hear you, then so can most of the other people in the room. You are making it difficult for me and for others to do what we’re here to do.
- If you don’t feel like you’re learning anything, then that’s a different question, and I am absolutely willing to talk to you privately if you feel like you need something you’re not getting. But that doesn’t give you the right to interfere with the general running of the class and with others who are trying their best to get something out of all this.
- If I were another teacher, I would yell at you and kick you out, and that is probably a better way of dealing with these kinds of problems, but I’m not very good at that. My response is usually to get very annoyed. So I am going to promise you that I will try to be clearer and more direct with you from now on about the things you’re doing that are bothering me and making it difficult for me to do my job. In return, I would like you to please try to understand my perspective on this.
After the class, Khaled, the student who is the continual source of all these problems, approached me and said, “Miss, does it really make you mad when we talk in the back of the class? I felt really bad when you said that. I figured, you know, we’re having fun, you’re having fun…”
(Next post: more on Khaled and the class that he’s turned into a circus, and why I am really the one to blame, because after nineteen years of teaching I am still unable to put my foot down.)
