[Classroom Management] Campfire

I've mentioned before that I use the television show NCIS for inspiration--especially my name and my classroom rules (current list here). One time I mentioned "calling a campfire," but I didn't really explain it. 

I will 'splain.  There is too much, I will sum up...

There is a character on NCIS named Dinozzo. At one point in the season he was in charge of the team because "Boss" was in trouble for being a kamikazee rogue agent.  When Dinozzo needs to talk to the team, he says "campfire" and they gather up.  This is how I get my Poodle-heads' attention when I need to talk to them about something serious.

Example?  Why sure!
One time, someone from another class came in to tell me that my homeroom was taking part in bullying another student.  I called a campfire, they sat right down, and we talked.  I don't know for sure why it works like it does, but when I say campfire, they just gather right up.  They seem to understand that it is time to be serious even though I haven't exactly said that.

Another example?  Of course!
During one campfire someone tried to make a joke after I had clearly "called campfire," and the other students shushed him and said "don't you know that means she's serious????"

The very best example?  Here it comes!
Something even better happened yesterday.  J. came up to me and said "Boss, we think we need a campfire." He was a quiet, and a little shy about it.  At first I didn't understand.  "You need a campfire?" I asked him. "Ummmm. Yeah. We think we do."

I walked over to the rest of the group and they were already sitting in a campfire (sort of a circle-ish shape formed by sitting in their desks in the right places) and waiting for me.

J: We were wondering why you seemed kind-of-maybe-unhappy-or-angry-or-something today..."
Me: [pause]
Class: [pause--wondering how I will react]
Me: I guess I'm still frustrated from the stuff that happened here on Friday.  It wasn't a very good day and I'm trying to make sure it doesn't happen again, so I guess I'm kind of serious.
Class: Hm.
Me: And, I'm tired.  It was a good weekend.  Did you all have a good weekend?
Class: [showing relief--tells stories about weekend]

What do I think happened here?  I think they showed me a few things.  First, they reminded me that they need me to be on and present and with-it.  Their world needs that. They also showed me that they understand the procedure of "campfire" more clearly than I knew.  I started using it on a whim (like many things I do). I didn't explain the procedure of how it would be used because I didn't know myself.  I didn't over use it, and viola!  It took on a life of it's own.  It became a way to say "we need to talk," and they used it as a way to talk to me yesterday.

It was a good moment.



Goal Progress: 6/20

[Classroom Management] Offsides

Recently I had to institute the offsides rule in my classroom.  Granted, I don't fully comprehend the rule, and, as I am wont to do, I have adjusted it to meet my needs.  Life is so much easier when you can make things mean what you want them to mean.

My lamby-pie that seeks attention in every way imaginable still needs protection from the angry mob on occasion (okay, all the time), One day I was having trouble keeping one eye on him and one eye on the other fifteen schmoopies in my class.  Attention-seeking lamby-pie was practically sneaking behind my back and jumping up and down in his efforts to get punched in the face, and I didn't think I was going to be able to keep it from happening (again).

I called out to the other schmoopies that I was instituting the "offisides rule" and gave a brief explanation.  Basically, I just said they had to keep me in between them and attention-seeking lamby-pie at all times.  I kept my eyes on the lamby-pie and the schmoopies took the new rule seriously.  Whichever way I moved, they moved to keep me in front of them. 

Okay, I'll admit, it was kind of fun.  I even squeezed them into a corner at one point.  Why?  Because they let me.


Goal Progress: 5/20 (slow-going, eh?)

[Classroom Management] When Duct Tape is Appropriate

I have an Incessant Leaner in my classroom.  He leans back in his chair, the chairs get bendy and squeaky AND he has fallen on his little poodle head multiple times.  Today, he and I came up with a solution:

DUCT TAPE!!!

*Note--HE suggested the duct tape.  It's not a vicious punishment-- in fact another student already asked if they can sit in that chair next.  No students were harmed or mistreated in this situation.

Whatev

I was going to title this post "god-light".  You know, the light that sometimes shines through the clouds and, some say, looks all biblical and stuff?  I did a search on it, and found... well... very little that describes it as I want it described.  Then I thought I'd use "A-Ha".  A search ensued, and I found more a-ha's than I wanted (here, here, and here). By this time in the titling procedure,  I have grown weary and a little bit pissy. You get what you get, I suppose.

What I wanted to say when I sat myself down here to write is that I had a moment today where the light showed through the clouds looking all biblical and stuff, and my little pea brain smiled.  It was tiny.  Itsy-bitsy.  Quite small, really.  I'm sharing it anyway.  I will tell you the end first.

J. said to me "Oh, don't worry.  I learned my lesson with that."

This is J. of the "I smell so good" marker debacle.  J. doesn't learn lessons because he most mightily does not want to.  More than anything he wants to NOT learn, to NOT do, to NOT feel.  Of course, no surprise here, I think he's hilarious and great.  I do quite often want to stomp on his smelly little feet and shake my finger in his impish little face and say "you have so much potential!!!"  I resist (usually).

One day J. was especially focused on doing NOT.  So focused that he had become downright defiant and was causing quite a ruckus.  The best thing to do in this instance is to strategically ignore his behavior (if you want to know more about strategic ignoring, ask me.  I'll tell you.  It's one of my super powers.  That, and over-parenthetical-izing and quotation-al-izing things.).  I did.  And then I did.  And then I did.  And then... I didn't.  I said (don't judge me for this) "Dude, do I need to call your dad?"

BAD idea.  I know. It just came out.  His eyes lit up at the idea of his "NOT-ing" getting attention from me and his dad.  He said, and read this carefully here,

"Whatever floats your boat."

Whatever.  Floats.  Your.  Boat.  Duuuuude....  I was officially irritated.  Truth be told, I was angry at myself for taking the bait.  Lucky for me when I am irritated my senses constrict in the best possible way.  I become calm, quiet, and methodical (or diabolical).  I replied with "Okay."  My dad used to say "okay."  It usually meant I was done.  D-O-N-E.  This is how I imagine my "okay" sounding.  He started to back track and I said "Consider my boat floated."  He looked at me, I looked at him.

Later that day J. asked me for something he didn't really need.  I said "Um, nope."  Soon after, he asked for something else.  I said "Um, nope."  Later still, while the kiddos who had finished their work had some free time, he asked again.  "Um, nope.  See?  This is me, floating my boat. " He looked at me, I looked at him.

The next week, he started to ask for something.  I gave him The Look and he completed his work before asking again.  This happened a few times.  I said, "I see I don't need to float my boat?" He replied with an empathic "no" and a rushed explanation of how he hadn't meant to be rude.  I explained how it might be perceived as rude in some circumstances.  He insisted it wasn't.  He looked at me, I looked at him.

Another week comes and goes with a few hints dropped here and there "Shall I float my boat?"  "Oh, I see, I don't need to float my boat?" Today, the god light/a-ha/whatev moment came.  He said I needn't float my boat any longer.  He had learned his lesson.  We nodded to each other.

Woo-Hoooo!  I wonder how to turn this into a rule?  Something about the boat-floating, or the okay-ing, or the strategic ignorer-ing, methinks.

CONTEST IDEA!!!!!
Send me your ideas about how to turn this into one of Boss's Rules, and I will send you a laminated copy of the entire set of rules so far! I will.  I really will do it. I'll even let you choose the number for the rule if you win. Maybe.

Woe and Despair

Just kidding.  No woe.  No despair.  I was pretending.  Sometimes, when the kidlets are being obnoxious, I strike this pose (usually standing up, but it was sunny and I wanted to rest) and someone says for me, "Is it hard to be you?"

To which I reply, "Yes.  It is hard to be me.  Woe and despair."

This is often an effective way to get them to calm down a notch.  It must be my incredible acting ability.

Rule #8

Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs is one of my professional role models.  It is for him that I have asked my students this year to call me Boss.  I am not a TV fanatic, and I prefer not to pay the cable company any of my hard-earned money.  I have, however, watched many episodes of NCIS due to a very generous landlord who paid for cable with DVR last year. 


Gibbs has Rules.  They are good rules, but not as useful in the classroom as I would like.  I have started numbering my own rules to create a list.  This, perhaps, will increase my Gibbs-ish-ness and... well... entertain me. 

Last week I assigned a number to a very familiar rule in my classroom:


Rule #8

Before you are snarky about something, make sure you are right. 


Example of rule in use:

Student insists there are 16 days of school.  
Boss says, "I checked the calendar recently, and I believe there are 19." 
Student insists there are 16, and that Boss is wrong. Student is snarky and pokes fun at Boss for making a mistake.  
Boss again refers to the fact that she did, indeed, use her eyes and calendar to make the determination that she was, indeed, correct in her statement.  
Student continues with snarkiness and even includes a "nuh-uh" in the rebuttal.  
Boss asks student to count the days on a calendar.  
Student counts... 19 days of school remaining.  Student blushes.  
Boss says, "You know... before you are--."
Student finishes for Boss, "Before I'm snarky I should know I am right."

Viola.  Rule #8. 

Averted Eyes

M. is crying.  I am pretty sure it is my fault.  Before you get your knickers in a bunch, though, I will tell you that he is upset because I held him responsible for his actions (or lack of action, to be more specific). He is sitting in the center of the room, at his desk, snuffling.  Red face, runny nose, miserable eyes. 

The other turkey-butts are sitting on pins and needles, pretending they don't see or hear him.  Let me remind you that these are middle-schoolers.  Not only middle-schoolers, but middle-schoolers that have been removed from regular schools for not doing the right thing.  Let me also remind you that middle-schoolers are mean and vengeful little creatures (in case you forgot the horror of your own middle school years).  When they smell blood, they, like Jaws, have the genetic predisposition to attack mercilessly.

But they are not attacking.  They are swimming warily around him, averting their eyes, and letting him believe he is snuffling in private. 

It's sweet. In a vengeful-creature-shows-moment-of-kindness sort of way...

Trading Places

I am tired today.  Foot-dragging, eyes-drooping, body-fighting-every-step-of-the-way tired.  This tired makes me feel like I'd prefer each one of my chicken-heads to be silent and do all of their work.  I know a serious lack of realism when I see it, so I tried.  The end of first period came, the chillins' were working, and the couch was calling my name.  I took my coffee to the couch and settled in for a couple of minutes.  

Miracle of miracles... they kept working.  They spoke quietly, asked me if I was tired, how my day was going, and if I needed a rest. I'll admit to playing it up a bit--you know... hyperbole at its best.  Sighs, back of hand to forehead, my best woe-is-me

It came time for the classes to change.  The younger class came in, saw me sitting, and got a little bit giddy.  M. asked if she could teach.  I said sure.  And she did.  She went to the front of the room, gave the directions (as I whispered them to her), and made sure they had their supplies.  She worded things exactly like I do:

"Do you know what supplies you need?"

"Does everyone have their book?"

"J. can you please be quiet while I finish the directions?" 

"Check your neighbor and make sure they are on the correct page."

We all looked through children's poetry books and read our favorite poem out loud.  M. directed the class to applaud after each poem was read.  One student did not want to read, so M. asked if someone would read it for her.  C.  jumped up and did so with a flourish.  All the while, I was sitting on the couch as a student (albeit a student giving whispered directions to the teacher). 

After we read the poems, M. explained that we each needed to choose a poem to "copy" and write one of our own in the same style.  She even gave an example.  Then, we all completed the assignment.  Midway through, K. asked to take over for M.  K. wandered around the room and made sure everyone was following the directions.  Two students entered late, and K. got them on task quickly.  

What a fun day!  I won't lie and say this was planned, or say that I have research to show that this is an effective strategy.  I will say that it was a fun lesson for all of us, and  a good way to keep things moving when I was just too tired to be entertaining.  

Here are some of the poems turned in today:

The Whale 

by M.

(based on The Elephant by Hillarie Billoc)

The poor whale,

Sitting all alon-ee,

Eating a piece of boloney,

While sitting on a stool,

Drinking in a pool,

While cooking on a grill,

While the krill is sizzing,

And the bees are bizzling,

Scooping up the honey

For your money.

Life Doesn't Frighten Me

by K.

(based on Life Doesn't Frighten Me by Maya Angelou)

A dark park

A bat with a cat

They do not frighten me.

A bad dad

A bar car

Does not frighten me.

Can it be,

Nothing really frightens me?

My Poem

by C.  

(based on Life Doesn't Frighten Me by Maya Angelou)

There's people in the dark

Playing at the park

Having fun for all.

Jumping up and

All falling down

Having fun for all

Rolling in the grass

Fast as a flash

Having fun for all

Going to sleep

Brushing my teeth

Having fun for all

Laying on my bed

Surrounded from hay

Having fun for all.

Sleep Dreams

Disturbing?

April 25, 2010

This video clip disturbs me. Shall I list the ways or shall I invite my fellow caped crusaders to tell me themselves? And let's be even-handed. What do you like and dislike about this video and related article (if you can read it without skipping most of it as I very much wanted to do:

A Nervous Twitch

I have my 6th and 7th grade girls convinced that if they whine, I will get a nervous twitch.  This is not technically a lie, since I do think it could kill me if I have to listen to as much whining as they are capable of ... of which they are capable ... that they are capable to do.  That much whining.

The Happy Song

School starts back up on Monday.  How does a caped teacher go back to the grind after two lovely weeks off?  What's that quote about faking it until you make it?  While many of us miss our little pumpkin-heads, and worry about them, and think of great things for them to learn, we still cherish our time off and are sad when it is over.  

This song is one of the best ways I have found to get the day started, or restarted, on a positive note.  I started to play it the week I was planning to see the performer play at the House of Blues.  I played it many, many... many times.  The students now sing along to parts of it and often request it.  Sometimes, after they get their "free lecture" of the day, they'll ask me to play "The Happy Song."  I know this is partially to get me to stop playing, and acting to, The Frog Prince, or all of my instrumental music, but of all songs they could request and sing along to, I'm okay with this one:
"I'm going to celebrate being alive."


It's called Blessed by Brett Dennen.

*Note--this video is just a static picture, but it had the best audio.  Here is a link to a fun solo version played at Seattle's Carkeek Park.

The Day They Discovered PhotoBooth

Tar Beach

For Spirit Day yesterday, I used a project inspired by the book Tar Beach by Faith Ringgold. In this story a girl imagines she is flying above the night skies of New York and claiming it for herself. She reclaims the union building that won't let her father join due to the color of his skin and she decides to have ice cream for dessert every night. I read it aloud and  explained that according to this girl you can have whatever dreams you want--both big and little. You just have to be willing to shut your eyes and fly.

Cheesy, right? They loved it. One boy had his eyes shut when I finished (and wasn't sleeping).

In the back is a photo of a quilt that copies the style of the book illustrations.  This was the design for our project.

I had each student make a square for the border with their own dreams on it, and a group worked on a large size picture in the style of the book illustrations using our city as the background.  Then they made small flying versions of themselves like the author did in the book, and we hung them on the large picture as if they were flying over the city It looks pretty cool! 

I'll post pictures when I get back in the classroom.  Oh yeah, did I mention?  This caped teacher is flying off for Spring Break!!!

Bait and Switch

Earlier this year our little program was in the depths of student misbehavior. A couple of strong role models were pretty much running the place with chronic defiance and bullying. We had tried everything we could think of to change the tide and were at a loss. By this point students had lost nearly every privilege we offered and were running amok.  We had nothing to take away from them and decided to try to start rebuilding anyway.  Basically, we tried the "bait and switch," and held our very first Spirit Day.  

We spent the day working on projects--both group and individual--that focused on goal setting and team building. We hid the serious messages by using lots of crafty supplies, playing their favorite radio station, and letting some of the casually inappropriate conversations slide.

Oddly enough, they liked it! Our students could be considered "disenfranchised" to say the least, and likely spent school activity time in detention, at home, or smoking behind the utility sheds. They may not have had the chance to be a part of a school before.


This month they started asking when the next Spirit Day would be. We were surprised, but we scheduled it for the last Friday before Spring Break (today--hurrah!). Many students asked us on a daily basis about the upcoming Spirit Day, seemed excited for it, and were even willing to call it a name like "Spirit Day." It was hard not to giggle at conversations like:

"I hate this f-in' place. I want to be suspended."

"Fool chill. Tomorrow is Spirit Day."

Today was Spirit Day #2.  We had only one absence.  One student, who is chronically absent, missed the bus.  We assumed we would not see her.  She walked in an hour later, having found a ride to school.  She was happily wearing her school shirt and matching bracelets.  Score one for the attendance books!


The message here?  If you have run out of things to take away from your students for their misbehavior, it just might be time to give them something worth having.  Schools inadvertently take away so much from kids that have so little to begin with.  Caped teachers are just as guilty of forgetting this, but we are also just as able to remember and do something about it.


Yeay! for Spirit Day (and for Spring Break!)

Is There an Emergency?

As an attention-getting device the yodeling emergency button is barely passable. The yodel is quiet, and the students either giggle or yodel loudly when it is played. As a community-building device, however, it has come in handy. I put it up one day, and no one noticed until I began to run around asking if there was an emergency.
"Is there an emergency? Wait? Is this an emergency? I think we have an emergency!" Each time playing the yodel and often trying to sing along.
Now, whenever we have a guest or a new student, the students teach them to ask me if there is an emergency. And, of course, there always is. Yo-del-ay-e-hoo!

A Detention Conversation

Warning--This conversation would be rated PG-13.  It would be, if folks rated this kind of thing.

E. is a very bright, very oppositional 7th grader.  He is truly quite funny and entertaining, but he gets the class so riled up, he has to be tempered a bit.  One of his skills is to weasel out of situations with word play.   In this conversation, E. is in detention for the repeated use of the phrase "cup check" in the classroom while I was out.   I take the word he has not actually used and apply it a little indelicately.  Typically, arguing with a 7th grader, especially an oppositional one, is not worth a single second of time.  In this case, it still may not have been.  Nevertheless, it has provided me with giggles ever since.

E: Why am I in here?

(defiance wrapped with an air of innocence)

Ms. M: From what I understand, you were having an inappropriate conversation.

E: No I wasn't.  You don't know. I didn't say anything inappropriate.

(challenging look--daring me to say it)

Ms. M: You're right.  I wasn't here for the full conversation, but from what I understand, you were talking about BALLS. Are you going to try to convince me that talking about BALLS is appropriate?  I don't want to listen to conversations about BALLS.

E:  I didn't say... balls.

Ms. M: No, I'm sure you didn't say the word BALLS, but you did talk about BALLS and that is why you are in here.

E: I didn't talk about balls.

Ms. M:  I believe that you did.

E: I said "cup check." Is that about... balls?

(Again--defiant stare.  He's pretty sure I don't know what a cup check is.)

Ms. M: Yes.  "Cup check" is about BALLS.  If you would like to discuss how "cup check" is about BALLS, we can do that.

E: Nevermind....

Final Score:
Ms. M: 1     Balls: 10

A Collection of Blue Things

I've read, reviewed, and discussed a wide variety of books and curricula on community building, the teaching of pro-social skills in at-risk teens, developing a classroom management system through  the development of a community.  What I've learned though, can be summarized by this photo.

When I was putting together my classroom on the first days of school this year, I put my tape dispenser on the window sill behind my desk.  Then my sticky-note holder.  They were cluttering up the area while I was planning.  When the students came in they noticed the various changes in the room, commented on them, and paid an odd amount of attention to the tape dispenser and sticky-note holder.  They asked why it was there.  I said, "I guess that's my collection of blue things." I knew many of the students from the previous year, so this bit of random didn't faze* them.  They nodded, studied the collection, and moved on.

A few days later I was given a blue pen cap found on the floor and told it was for the collection.  Then a small blue stuffed dog found in the "Fidgets Bin" (more on that later).  Later,  a piece of blue tape, a blue string, and a blue piece of candy (wrapped, of course), blue modeling clay, a blue monster ball, a blue birthday card, a blue slinky.  They just keep coming. 

When new students come in and assess the room, they often end up asking about the odd assortment on the window sill.  Other students answer, "It's our collection of blue things. We just do that kind of thing."   

This year my window sill became a part of our community.  I didn't plan it or study it in a book. I just accepted the offerings when they came and the community took ownership of the collection.  They like knowing what their surroundings hold and taking part in those surroundings.  Of course I post their work, assign them classroom jobs, do activities to promote community, but this collection of blue things has had just as much impact on them this year.


This caped teacher's advice is to let the magic happen.  Accept the blue pen cap when it comes your way.


* Even caped teachers have Dads.  This caped teacher's dad reminded her of the difference between phase and faze.  Thanks Pops!  Link for your own edification here: Phase vs. Faze.

Oh my, it's a--

This week, we reviewed sentence fragments. In an attempt to energize a possibly dull topic (especially considering this has taken quite a bit more review than you might imagine), I first had them writing sentence fragments on their individual white boards.  They were supposed to make the fragment interesting enough to entice their partner to WANT to know the end.  

"Hey, that's a"

"Yesterday I tripped and"

"You look like a"

We traded back and forth for awhile. Then, I asked them to hold a conversation with their partner using only fragments.  They picked a topic and tried to communicate about it.  I listened, took part in a few, modeled once or twice, and then snuck off to the loo while Mama H. (our illustrious aide), took over.


When I returned, I came upon two of my little urchins laying on the floor.  They had been playing with one of the koosh balls while I was out and had, it appeared, injured themselves.  Rather than get up, they had decided to play dead.


What does a caped teacher do when she walks into a classroom with two dead students? It depends.  At this moment, this caped teacher was tired of the lecture.  Tired of explaining the dangers of horseplay, and tired of reminding them to behave while she was at the loo.  So this caped teacher went off on a tangent and created a crime scene.

We taped off the scene, identified the evidence, wrote reports (on sticky notes), and then, I asked for a crime scene report--using only fragments. 
"C- and A- were"
"Then they"
"The bear was"
"I thought"
By this time the "injured/dead" students were sheepishly cleaning up their mess and sitting in their desks.  I am not sure what they were up to while I was gone, and I realize there ought to be some consequences for whatever it was, but how many times can I lecture them about the same misbehaviors?


Next week we'll see if they learned anything about sentence fragments.  Or maybe we'll--