Hamilton High School is filled with students pretending to be tough. Students below mental breathing capabilities loudly proclaim themselves as a genius. Students without enough nerve cells to even fire once an hour claim they are the best students. Laughably there are even students who can't put together a coherent sentence orally claim they are 'A' students. Heck, they shout it out.
Humility, being humble, keeping a low profile are all traits that I admire. And yet these traits are void in Hamilton students. In fact, one student approached me and complained that his laziness was due to my poor planning. I tried to make sure my laughter was held back. Instead, I smiled and attempted to diffuse the situation. It wouldn't have been proper to laugh - even though - I dearly wanted to laugh.
On one side of the coin, it amazes me how Hamilton students do not know their place. They are students. They are at the school to learn, to participate, and to get a diploma. The teachers are there to help and not hinder. If the students would simply listen and follow directions then their lives would be fairly easy. Ideally, a student could listen, follow directions, earn the A, and move on with life.
On the opposite side of the coin, students are so filled with their own social agendas that they forget most adults were children once too. However, my childhood seems to have been radically different from their childhood. For example, I could never imagine telling a teacher that I didn't do something because the teacher didn't make me do it. But that is a phrase or tape that seems to be played constantly by Hami kids.
Blah.
In fact, the tape mentioned above plus the students' strong personalities makes it important to appear weak in the classroom. It's a sanity check measure.
Picture this, you are standing in front of a group of kids explaining population dynamics. You show several age structure pyramids. You interpret developing nations diagrams versus industrialized nations diagrams. You ask the kids to turn to the page in the book with other examples.
Now - stop and look. More than 90 percent of the kids will be writing notes to each other and did not hear one word you've just said. The other 10 percent were trying to listen but had not done their homework either and therefore have absolutely no idea what you mean by an age structure diagram.
Of course, all of this is your fault. You are not explaining things correctly.
There are techniques for getting kids engaged - but it really comes down to the kids wanting to be there - and most simply Hamilton students are not interested. Therefore, I try to use gentle persuassion with most of my students. Sometimes that simply doesn't work and it is too exhausting. It's easier to stare a kid in the eyeballs, think bad things, and smile -- looking totally blank, lost, and confused - hoping the kid will just go away.
In the example above, it would be great to scream into a kid's face - put the hate mail away, get out your book, straighten up in the chair, shut your face, open your ears, screw on a new head or at least pull the one you have out of your butt, grow up, and learn to read.
Err. But then again - the poor kid wouldn't understand one word that was said. He'd just think it was funny that the teacher looked mad - oh isn't that cool? I made the teacher angry.
Enter - therefore - the art of being weak.
A good teacher stands, waits, looks deep into the eyes of the kids and smiles. A thoughtful, gentle reminder that they are in biology class and not in jail (yet).
Now, if I could only get used to being quiet when these same students who don't do their homework, don't read the book, don't listen, don't do any work, approach me and complain that I failed them.
But reality does seem to crash down on my justifications. Yeah, maybe I have failed them. They need a teacher who can help them learn that it is okay to not have an answer - it is okay to then take the time to find different possible answers - it is okay to discuss possible answers - and it is okay to just simply have a good time learning.
A mentor of mine praised me for being able to stand and take all the guff from kids. They admired how I could smile and diffuse the tantrums. I remember them commenting once that it takes a strong person to remain quiet while others are running around like chickens with their heads cut off.
Ugh, is that really what a classroom looks like? A bunch of chickens running around - lost - confused - bewildered - bemired - bemused.
Then again - What does all of this post mean? Uhm. I don't have a clue because I wasn't listening. I was asleep. I didn't do my homework. What did you say? Would you please repeat the question.
Posted by LPH at March 11, 2004 03:21 AM | TrackBack