Thursday, March 17, 2011

Mrs. Hillbilly Mom Is Not An Alarm Clock

I received a boomerang yesterday. A student who was here, went there, and returned. In the two days he has been back, he has announced that his assigned seat is too cold, put his head down on his desk during class presentations, assigned himself a new seat without informing me, and snored so loudly he disturbed the 99% of the class that was completing an assignment. Which might be a foreign concept to Boomerang, the completing of an assignment, because he's still a virgin in that department.

Many teachers might be thrilled to have such trivial discipline issues. But I can not sit back and enjoy the semi-silence. I work in a school, not a Japanese capsule hotel. I refuse to leave a mint on the desk so the student will feel welcome. Likewise, I do not give wake-up calls.

A few colleagues revel in waking the undead. They clap hands, drop heavy books to the floor, slam a book on the desk, shout a student's name, whack him with a sheaf of papers, draw on him with markers, or bean him with erasers. I refuse to be a part of this sideshow. It's what the other students want: a distraction. I will not play into their idle hands. I let sleeping students lie. I warn them upon awakening that any further slumber in my classroom will result in a referral to the principal. Then, it's the student's choice. Deliberately incur the consequences, or straighten up and sit right.

I see no reason to make light of the snoozing. It's not funny. It's not cute. It's rude and counterproductive. I'll be gosh-darned if I'm going to make that scoffrule the center of attention. If the higher powers can not give me a medical reason why a student can't stay awake, that student is out. It might only be for a few days, so the ISS teacher who is not a jailer can watch him, but I'm sending a message to the good eggs, who are so easily influenced at the tender age of fourteen-going-on-fifteen. And clowning it up in a game of Fifty Ways to Wake Your Snoozer is not promoting my agenda of personal responsibility.

Can you imagine a faculty meeting where I put my head down on the table and started to snore? Me neither. I seriously doubt that Mr. Principal would help himself to a library book and whack the table next to my nose. More likely, he would proceed with the meeting, then reprimand me afterward, and put a job target in my file. Of course, the rest of my cohorts would be wishing for him to chuck a legal pad at me, or shout my name, or draw the Periodic Table on my forehead.

Because we are all fourteen at heart.


Kathy's Klothesline said...

I don't envy you. Did you think this would be part of the job when you started out?

Hillbilly Mom said...

I actually DID expect some sleepers. But I also foolishly expected that I would spend all of my work time TEACHING and preparing lessons. Not jumping through government hoops and untangling red tape to make things look good on paper, while the measurable learning goes down the drain.

PossumManor said...

I was asked the other day what I did to make my students want to come to school. Teachers in my school are responsible for high absentee rates.Huh?

Hillbilly Mom said...

You need to leave mints on the desks and provide pillows for their sleeping comfort. Didn't you have that methods class?

PossumManor said...

Ya know, I have failed in that area. I so often bump into the desk of a sleeping child; maybe I need to be piping in soft music and offering warm, moist towels when they wake. I have been teaching a long time, but I think I have failed..........................................................................................................too bad! lol

Hillbilly Mom said...

Please tell me that you at least lecture in rap, and dress as a different literary character each day.