Teacher Moment

My first class of the day is, how do I say this politely, materially challenged. On a daily basis their preparedness for class resembles that of an army of sloths, or zombies, or something. Most of them usually arrive late, if at all, and their general attitude toward me is 'oh it's you, were you saying something?' They hardly ever have anything they need and the only questions they ask me are "Does this book come on tape?" or "Are we going to watch the movie?" Most look up at me with attitude and squinty eyes, the quintessence of adolescence.

I tried an experiment a few weeks ago. After drinking several cups of Starbucks' Breakfast Blend, I attempted to get their attention. I put everything I had into this twenty minute rant about vocabulary and connecting new knowledge with prior knowledge and I was using my hands, and I was talking miles per minute, and I was pacing, and keeping eye contact, redirecting disruptive behavior, monitoring learning, and using my proximity to them to keep them engaged...all things good teachers do. And it worked. It was almost like I had given them the energy I had. I once taught under a principal, who on a daily basis, met up with one of our more energetic students in the hallway. He'd approach her, greet her, and stick out his finger E.T. style. She would reach out to meet him halfway. He'd pretend as though a jolt of energy surged between their fingers and he'd quiver as though he had just been energized by this always perky (only sometimes annoying) student. I always thought it was an act. BUT IT WORKED. Moments later, my zombie/sloth class began to mimic my manic behavior. Their arms were moving, their mouths were flapping, and they appeared to be ready to jump from their seats. It was then I remembered this lesson I learned from a colleague a few years ago. Education is loud, it's exciting, and the learning process itself is a little unsettling.