JOANNE
PAYLING
Diary #7
'I actually found myself shouting for their attention.'
Eighth graders love to talk more than any group on earth. This news flash is settling into my brain, perhaps six weeks too late. I purposely decided not start out the school year coming across as Ms. Strictly Silence. I developed what I felt was a good rapport with my students, laughing with them, letting them know I liked them and basking in their warm response to me. I trusted that they would be mature enough to differentiate between serious work time and the times when a less formal atmosphere could prevail. I was wrong. I was right that some students are mature enough to make that distinction, but naïve in believing that all my students are at the same level of behavior control. In each class I have a vocal contingent who insist in believing that I don't really mean "Quiet" or "Attention, Class" or "Eyes here, folks" when I need their undivided attention. Or they believe me, but they don't believe it applies to them personally (note furrowed brow at this point.) I actually found myself shouting for their attention today, something I swore I would never do. Incredible. Unbelievable. How can these kids ignore me, or worse, flash their smiles at me then continue talking to their neighbor, unabashed? I do not want to become the hardcore disciplinarian type of teacher who can't crack a smile or enjoy her students. I need to somehow reach these noisemakers and make them understand that, although I am a "nice," "friendly," "fun" teacher, I also mean to teach them something, and to accomplish that they must listen. Learning how to balance the formal with the informal times in a classroom setting is quite a challenge. Part of me wonders just how deep my naiveté goes. Perhaps it isn't possible to allow students any time to ask their neighbor for a pencil while they get their spelling book out, or to verify instructions with one another on the coming assignment. It is too late this year to suddenly turn into Ms. Strictly Silence, but it is something I will have to contemplate for next year. For every two steps forward on this teaching path, it seems I inevitably take one backwards, also.
