I am Israel...

… in the classroom. Well, let me put it this way; management in the class these days, especially with my homeroom class, 6 blue, is a bitch - almost to the point of neuroticism, and at a complete loss how to control them. Being an inexperienced teacher who makes plenty of first-year mistakes, and with all mid-year exams finished and a full week of school still left until break, the class climate has reached to a new level of disruption and at times, complete mayhem. Like constant side chatter, not following the rules in the hall, wrestling on the matt before class, stealing girls’ pencil cases and running around the room, singing in Arabic, blatant disregard for whatever I say when they don’t want to follow directions, and it goes on… Further, being inexperienced at showing them who is boss, I let them feel my powerful wrath in the form of ineffective shouting (although I try to limit this), and the occasional rash, and utterly punishing “warning letter.” The warning letter is a note from the school administration that is the most serious form of punishment that the school has to offer – a note sent home to the parents… Today my wrath came down two girls who were being blatantly rude, and leaving before I said it was time to go on the way down to the busses that would take them to their half-day exam. My warning came like this: “Nour, Nadine, I told you not to walk down the stairs before I go down…” (rude response) to “if you continue, you will get a warning letter.” (fine do it). So, knowing that I had to follow through on the threat, I handed them out letters when I had them again on 7th period when I had my class in the library. Like a group of innocent civilians who had just been doused with phosphorus from where a militant had launched a missile that landed in a goat field, the indignation of the two girls, and then by default, the entire class was sudden.
“But Mr. this is unfair, you did not give them any warning before this, you are supposed to have them write in the behavior book which does not even exist.” (true)
“This paper is all lies!” (possible).
“we misbehave all the time, why do they get one for simply walking down the stairs ahead of you?” (valid).
“But I said sorry after, when you were down in the lobby, and you accepted my apology” – Nour (weak argument, but true in the sense that she was under the impression her crime was absolved).
“The rest of the class walked down anyways after even when you told us to stay.” (true).
“Fine, we will no longer listen to you.” (ouch)
-and plenty of curses and insults to me in Arabic (which shows utter disrespect and is breaking a rule)
So effectively, I had made up the minds of most of these children that I was utterly cruel and unfair, and had declared a war. I could already picture in my head the level to which they were devising ways to be even more disastrous in the classroom. The problem was, from their behavior, they do deserve warning letters, their behavior merits it, but this overaggressive form was too punishing, and seen by all of them as utterly unfair. With five minutes left, I had the chance to speak to Nour and Nadine outside of the library in the courtyard. Slowly, as I was speaking to them, talking about their rude and disrespectful behavior, most of the class gathered round. In a move, that may well go down in the history books for six blue, I held both of the letters high, and ripped them, to a silent applause and an audible gasp of relief from Nour. I explained that this type of rude behavior and continuing disruption will not be tolerated and I apologized for this one time for what seemed unfair. I promised a system of fair and visible consequences (I’m making no excuses, but I have tried lots of things that have not worked). Who knows if the inner seeds of discontent will subside, but at least the visibility, and justness of punishment, will be prevalent, and it might have taken this shock and awe approach to get the point across. I don’t like bending back on my word, but it was worth it, at least to try to regain the respect and admiration of the rest of the class. And then there are those cherished moments, where I actually can feel like the kids are learning something because of what I taught.


The girls cheering on a football match ..