A burst of laughter caught my attention and I glanced up from my one-on-one writing conference with Jim. Across the room Jake was goofing off. I snapped his name and ordered him to take his pencil from his nostril before he hurt himself. He said, “Yes, Miss,” and complied. A few moments later I looked up again and saw him poking scissors up his nose. I was no longer certain that correcting him was the appropriate response . . . .
I scolded another child for pulling the trash out of his backpack and tossing it onto the classroom floor. I called a third child out for making racial slurs. I had to arbitrate an arguement between Brad and Joe over who is and isn’t asking Lisa to the dance (as in, “You continue this behavior and there will be no point in either of you asking her because you won’t be going!”) And I had to explain to Rick that the accepted way of sharing classroom tools is not jerking them from the hands of whomever is using them at the moment.
Finally the bell rang and I bid them all adieu. As they were walking from the room Brad told Rico, “We only have to put up with her for 18 more school days.”
News flash, Kid. That’s what I keep telling myself about you.