A teachable moment – where I am the one learning!

WOW!

What a day today!

I started the day, as I do every work day, doing yard duty at school. My “job”, as per Public Health regulations, is to make sure that each class stays in their own area on the tarmac and school yard and that students remain with their classmates / in their cohort in an effort to limit contact with people who are not in their class.

I asked the same group of Grade 8 boys that I ask every day to seperate from each other and go stand in their cohort. Granted, I am fed up with saying the same thing to the same group of boys every single day so they are likely also sick of hearing it. I asked twice for them to go to their cohort, making sure to make eye contact with each of them. As I turned on my heel to move over to the next group of kids to whom the rules do not apply, one of them said…

Bitch.

I turned around and calmly said, “Nope – just doing my job. Come with me.” and started to walk towards the front door en route to the office. He started to protest and deny that he had said it but I guess my “Are you f-ing kidding me??” face was on point today and he backed off. We got to the office where the principal greeted us with “Good Morning – why are we here?”

I looked at her and, still very calmly, said:

Because “Student X” seems to need a reminder of the announcement that you made yesterday about swearing not being acceptable. He also needs to be reminded that Public Health says that we cannot mix cohorts and that my asking him to move to his does not, in fact, make me a bitch”.

Once she scraped her chin off the floor – I guess at my direct quote – she actually raised her voice at him, which never happens!

Midday I received an email that she had called his mother and that he had been sent home for the day!

Madame Fanjoy – 1 Student X – 0

** I take my (small) wins where I can get them.

At 11:10am, I went outside to pick up the Grade 8 class I was teaching in the next block who had been outside for their 20 minute outside lunch time. Wrangling them into line off the field is always like nailing Jell-o to the wall! I asked them to get in a line so that we could move into the school (and don’t mix with with the other class, hold on to the basketball, get up off the ground, put that handful of grass down, give him back his shoe, don’t tease the dog on the other side of the fence …. you get the picture).

When I finally got them in a line – despite four boys vehemently arguing that they do not need to be in a line, we started to walk in. MANY of them were swearing and walking past me dropping the F-bomb. We got into class and I quietly and calmly said we needed to talk. It was sweet. Their homeroom teacher was working at her desk and backed me – thank God! They must have known by the tone and quiet volume of my voice that I meant business because NO ONE was talking.

I reminded them of the announcement that they had seen in the morning that swearing is not, and will not be, accepted at our school.

I told them that this is their place of work and they have a job to do while they are here.

That they need to show some level of “professionalism” while they are at school.

That some level of maturity is expected of Grade 8 students.

There is, perhaps, a time and a place for swearing and more casual language and that school is not the place.

That teachers should not be constantly listening to, and dealing with, foul language.

etc etc etc

I went on, calmly, and quietly for at least five minutes.

Surprisingly I had eye contact and attention for the whole time. Rarity.

No one talked back or made side comments while I was talking to them. Even more rare.

They actually demonstrated some maturity. Unheard of.

We ended the conversation with them agreeing to do better and watch where they are using language and thinking about the time and place.

Fast forward half an hour where we are continuing a discussion about stereotypes of French class and how effort and mindset can have a direct correlation to achievement.

I was sitting on a bar-type stool at the front beside a nice enough kid but he is sort of a class clown who usually never shuts up. I was wearing jeans and my Blundstone boots. When I put my feet up on the rungs of the stool, my jeans must have hiked up my leg a little and his eyes got huge and he looked at me with a strange look on his face.

I finished what I was saying and gave the class some time to work on their next task.

He came over to me, stood behind me, with a serious twinkle in his eye and whispered:

What do your socks say, Madame?

Oh. My. God.

I didn’t even know! I knew they were socks that I had been joke-gifted but didn’t even pay attention when I put them on this morning.

I looked at him, brow furrowed, and said, “Honestly, I don’t even know.”

He laughed and, for once in his life, he used a quiet voice and said:

I wouldn’t look at them now but I guarantee you they are highly inappropriate for the workplace.

Thankfully, he quietly went to sit down.

I kept my ankles crossed while sitting and when the bell rang, you can bet I high tailed it out into the hall to look at my socks.

We will see if he kept his mouth shut when I see the class tomorrow – where I will be wearing monochrome socks!

The day ended in the last block when we have to take attendance. I started by calling the first kid’s name, expecting, like a newbie, for him to simply say, “Here”.

Needless to say, I was momentarily surprised when, instead, he yelled….

MY BALLS HURT!

Mini lesson about how to participate in attendance followed by an e-mail to mom.

Just a regular day in the classroom.

Admit it.

You want my job!