Classroom Management

More slow balls

Continuing from last week's 'Slow balls' blog, I've found some more wonderful examples of teachers' unexpected, unpredictable and psychologically brilliant responses to classroom misbehaviour. There's absolutely no point in trying to remember any of these. They were unique responses to unique circumstances. The circumstances you encounter in your classroom will also be unique and require bespoke responses. These examples will, however, hopefully encourage and inspire.

They're benevolent mind-games. Yes, they're unfair, in that the teacher's superior mind will triumph over the pupil's inferior mind, but what's the alternative? To descend to their level? As a wise man once said, "Never argue with an idiot. They'll drag you down to their level and then win on experience."

1. Glue-fight.
Two boys were daubing each other with glue. Rather than awarding an unimaginative detention and demanding an insincere apology, the teacher equipped the boys with brand new glue-sticks, presented his own face and invited the miscreants to daub HIS face. Shocked by this travesty of authority, the boys were too uncomfortable to comply, and spent the rest of the day in meek and quiet obedience.

2. Excuses, excuses.
Pupil X offered a lame and unimaginative excuse for not having done his homework. His teacher avoided predictable anger as a response and said pleasantly that he'd just like X's mother to confirm the story. Pupil X was accompanied courteously to the school phone and invited to phone his mother with his teacher standing beside him. X's homework was never late for the rest of term.

3. Retribution.
Girl Y was soaked in the playground by boy Z. Both were invited to the staffroom, where their teacher poured water into a glass. When both had agreed on the approximate quantity of water which had originally soaked Y, the glass of water was put on view for the rest of the day, with the promise that Y could pour it over Z after school. After a few more lessons, the tension became unbearable and Y declared she no longer wished to soak Z back. Y experienced the liberating feeling of forgiveness, Z experienced the Jean Valjean blessing of being forgiven... and their teacher escaped a potentially uncomfortable interview with the Head.

Curve balls

Continuing Monday's theme of unpredictability as a useful weapon in a teacher's discipline-arsenal, I've found some nice examples in an as-yet unpublished book on classroom management. The author uses the cricketing analogy of the 'slow ball'. The American term 'curve ball' is perhaps more commonly used today for an unpredictable, unexpected delivery, but in the context of school discipline, I realise the cricketing analogy of 'slow ball' is better. As a non-cricketer, I needed to have this explained to me, but the gist seems to be that a slow ball is delivered with a rapid and energetic arm-movement, leading the recipient to expect an especially fast ball.

The classroom miscreant is EXPECTING a harsh reaction from the teacher, and is fully prepared for shouting, withering sarcasm, threats of detention etc. Such expected responses would, therefore have limited psychological effect, precisely because they are expected. Sometimes, the only way to make a psychological impact on the hardened miscreant is the slow ball.

An essential pre-requisite for the classroom slow ball is a moment's silence before the delivery. The teacher who reprimands loudly as soon as he/she registers the offence, is making several errors:
1) There's no time to think of a truly appropriate and measured response. The hasty response is liable to be ill-worded and to sound flustered, leading to a diminution in authority.
2) Without classroom silence, the teacher's response may not even be heard.
3) A 'pregnant' pause will disconcert the miscreant. Not knowing how the teacher will react, even for a few seconds, puts the miscreant instantly at a psychological disadvantage. The teacher, meanwhile, has regained sovereignty over classroom noise-levels. He/she now has a silent and rapt audience.

Now for the slow ball. The author wisely notes that, as in cricket, the slow ball can only be effective once in a blue moon. In the few seconds' silence you've just bought yourself, you can decide whether a slow ball will be appropriate. There were some entertaining examples in the book I was reading. My favourite, for its good humour and psychological cunning, concerned a girl from another class, who unobtrusively joined the author's class as a joke. Far from ejecting the mis-placed student, the author welcomed her and extended the warm invitation to break-time as well, leaving the joker with some explaining to do to her own form teacher. The author notes with satisfaction how the joker had "lost control of her own joke."

Firm but fair?

Which of your teachers do you remember most fondly? It's almost certainly neither the tyrants nor the 'pushovers'. The teachers we remember with greatest respect were usually the ones who were 'firm but fair', the ones in whose care, looking back on it now, we developed in a positive way. Often, these teachers provided one of the most 'formative' influences in our lives. This is not to discount the influence of our parents or guardians, but that relationship is too intimate, too partial, too fraught. (In many cases, even the passing of years does nothing to un-complicate our relationship with our parents!)

The 'good' teacher is another matter, and his/her impartiality in loco parentis can be a force for enormous good in a child's development.

"Nor had I ever met before perfect courtesy in a teacher. It had nothing to do with softness; Smewgy could be very severe, but it was the severity of a Judge, weighty and measured, without taunting..."
Surprised by Joy, C.S.Lewis

It seems to have something to do with appropriate, measured severity. A Judge, like 'blind justice', achieves stature and authority through impartiality. Like the successful rulers of medieval Europe, the successful teacher uses appropriate severity, not as a punishment, but in order to provide security.

"[Feudalism's] hierarchy is both intimidating and reassuring, and while the leader may operate on the basis of fear, he scares his followers less than the alternatives in a lawless and chaotic environment."
Danziger and Black

The same applies in the classroom. The security provided by a strict teacher is preferable to the dangerous and insecure environment which would result if bullies and gangs held sway.
One important weapon in a teacher's arsenal for achieving authority is unpredictability.

The Headmaster in Kipling's 'Stalky & Co.' is faced with an unusual moral dilemma, and knows that his choice of reaction will have great implications for his authority. He knows that the eponymous heroes are guilty of mischief, yet is aware that all the available evidence points to their innocence:

"I am convinced that, on this occasion, you have strictly adhered to the truth. There is not a flaw in any of your characters. And that is why I am going to perpetrate a howling injustice." Six apiece was their portion upon that word.
"And this, I think" - the head replaced the cane, and flung the written charge into the waste paper basket - "covers the situation. When you find a variation from the normal - this will be useful to you in later life - always meet him in an abnormal way. And that reminds me. there are a pile of paperbacks on that shelf. You can borrow them if you put them back... You will go to prep this evening as usual. Goodnight," said that amazing man.
"Goodnight, and thank you Sir."
"I swear I'll pray for the Head tonight," said Beetle.

N.B. Don't try this at school today, teachers.

The youth of today...

...or, in the words of popular beat combo My Chemical Romance,
"Teenagers scare the living s**t out of me"

I don't know what to believe: is the youth of today really worse than at any time in history (which would require radical new approaches to classroom management and juvenile discipline,) or has every elder generation since time began despaired of 'youth of today'? I find myself torn between both opinions, on the one hand, by distressing news reports, and on the other by inspiring books by teachers, which encourage me to believe that there may yet be hope for mankind.

There was a spate of horrific, teenage knife-crimes in London earlier this year. Amongst the predictably hysterical media reactions, was a particularly poignant cartoon in Private Eye: two sober-suited and black-tied teenagers call at a house and ask the Mum, "Can Johnny come out to another funeral?" I despaired for the future of mankind.

I then took comfort from Aristotle (384-322 BC):
"When I look at the younger generation, I despair of the future of civilisation."
...and from Plato (427-347 BC):
"What is happening to our young people? They disobey their elders, they disrespect their parents. They ignore the law. They riot in the streets inflamed with wild notions. Their morals are decaying. What is to become of them?"

A friend moaned to me recently about her work-experience student: frivolous, listless, indifferent, unmotivated, sullen, graceless etc etc. I consoled her with Hesiod (8th century BC):
"I see no hope for the future of our people if they are dependent on the frivolous youth of today, for certainly all youth are reckless beyond words."

I recalled my PGCE, 25 years ago, when reading 'Summerhill' inspired me with such optimism and zeal, that I set out on my teaching practice convinced I could change the world. Ten weeks with Class 4C at Sandy Upper School, and in particular with Beverley Nicholson (name changed, you know who you are) put serious dents in my optimism.

Finally, today I read an inspiring book (as yet unpublished) which completely persuaded me that youthful challenge of authority is a time-honoured game, of which both parties, teacher and miscreant, must understand the rules. When I finished reading, I turned on the news and heard that a gang of 30 children, challenged for dropping litter, had beaten up two policemen in Croydon.

Quick! Pass me something optimistic!

The hidden (nice) curriculum

I've just reviewed an excellent e-book, Better Classroom Behaviour (Phil Freeman and Mary Hartley) and have had some further thoughts, which belong here, rather than in the book review.

The book presents 28 activities for PSE lessons (KS 3&4) and is very cleverly-structured, so that pupils are unwittingly learning the cornerstones of PSE (objectivity, respect for themselves and for others, and cooperation,) whilst engaged on a specific issue. This benign 'hidden curriculum' structure works at both the single-lesson level and over the year's course.

Each activity-lesson begins with an individual, written assignment. All humans start from the self, and the discipline of writing encourages greater objectivity about the self. Pupils then proceed to assignments in pairs, where the object is frequently to compare and contrast what each has written as an individual. This is the next important step in an individual's development - the ability to see things from another's point of view. A baby just demands (usually food,) but as it grows into a child, it develops, gradually, a true relationship with the mother who provides, because it learns that the mother is also a person! Several activities pursue this further and encourage pupils to advocate the opinions of others, as if they were their own. To Kill a Mockingbird springs to mind: "You don't really know a person till you've walked around in their shoes."

It struck me, whilst reading through the activities, that if only ONE of the objectives were achieved - learning that others in school are just people like you, with needs, anxieties and opinions - then the rest (personal responsibility and classroom discipline) would follow automatically. I particularly liked the 'Teachers Are People Too' activity, which encouraged pupils to imagine the terrible morning a teacher might have (cat being sick, car breaks down etc) before coming to school, and to speculate on what sort of mood the teacher might then be in. The exercise is doubly clever. Firstly, it introduces what might have been a dull, unengaging and moralistic topic "Why you should be nice to your teacher" in an amusing and engaging way. Most pupils will be instantly engaged by imagining dreadful things that might befall a teacher. (Most, too, will be entertained by the novel concept that teachers even have lives outside school.) Secondly (and this is the benign hidden curriculum,) pupils are learning, without realising it, to objectify their own moods. Whilst dreaming up things-that-might-put you-in-a-bad-mood for their imaginary teacher, they are actually examining the things that put them in bad moods, from the safe, objective distance of an entertaining game.

Bad things happen to everyone. The pupil who comes to school angry, without knowing why, will disrupt, swear, lash out and bully. The pupil who can gain objective distance on their negative emotions can still function and interact in school and later, in society.

Better Classroom Behaviour is available from Chalkface  and there's a homework site at iamclever.