For Sale, Short Novel, Not Finished

Linda Thompson just sent around an article by E-mail, encouraging us to write our own six-word novel in the style of Hemingway’s “For sale: baby shoes, never worn,” but about our teaching experience. One of the suggestions entered was: Active noisy classroom means brains working.

I have a problem.

Despite all my classroom management training in school, I’m stuck on a particular challenge. I think I know how to handle the sleepers, the frustrated, the devious, the social misfits, and most other personalities. I’m just not sure how to handle the openly, inexplicably disruptive.

You probably know the kind of youngster I’m talking about, and I could name names but don’t have to. These are the kids that not only don’t have any interest in the class or the subject – their only interest while in my class is making sure no one else has any opportunity to be involved/engaged in the learning. They throw things. They talk constantly. When asked to pay attention or even just to be quiet, they either quietly mock you for making such an insolent request or shoot you a look that speaks volumes: “You don’t understand; I’m not here for your class. I’m here to PREVENT your class.”

Perhaps because of my limitation in knowing how to “handle” such students, I’ve been noodling a lot lately on the concept of “education for all.” What about those that really, really don’t want it? I know and you know that they would be better off in the long run with it. But if they really don’t want it, why are we forcing it down their throats? If -- by their own choice -- we’re wasting their time, why are we doing it?

Before you say, “Because they deserve it,” and they do, let me put it in a larger context: if all these kids were doing was wasting their own time, I could write off the effort with impunity. I could try to reach them – try and try and try, perhaps – but eventually I could wave goodbye. The problem is, they're ruining it for everyone else. I can’t wait them out. I don’t have time to let them figure it out on their own, because I have a responsibility to the rest of my students to provide a positive learning environment. If a few kids are intentionally poisoning that environment, don’t I have a responsibility to remove the poison?

Disruptive noisy classroom means failure imminent.

I know there’s no easy solution. At the moment, though, I’m not sure I even see a hard one.