Friday, February 20, 2009

Teacher Skill #193: Being Mean

My educator-adviser guy came to observe a couple of classes the other day--specifically 5th period, which is filled with the vilest 7th graders I've ever met. By "vile," I mean they act like 9th graders--they bully, they won't shut up, they throw things at each other, they show zero respect. The only difference between this class and my infamous 3rd period of last semester is the fact that I CAN get these kids to shut up and listen (although getting to that point is like pushing a boulder up a mountain) and there are girls in this class. I'm getting off track. ANYWAY. One of the things my adviser complimented me on was my very sharp response to a kid doing something stupid while I was giving instructions. I was a little surprised--that's the last thing I expect to hear from an observer. I've been told repeatedly that I'm too nice. I guess I'm finally getting my "mean."

That is something I've been noticing about myself lately. I can't even remember the last time I lost my temper and yelled like I meant it--before teaching, anyway. I'm more of a stew-quietly-no-confrontation angry type. But since this semester started, I've gotten a lot more vocal about my anger. When I was telling off a group of my vile 7th graders today, I almost stopped and marveled at how ANGRY and SERIOUS I sounded. I sounded like I meant what I was saying for once.

Okay, maybe the skill here isn't "being mean." Maybe it's "sounding like an adult." I had a really hard time feeling like an adult at first--I'm mistaken for a student at least once a day, after all. However. I've gotten over a lot of my insecurities, I'm confident, and I've reduced my tolerance for crap. Those right there are some of the most important teacher skills you can learn.

That said, I'm glad the week is over. It was only 4 days long, but I'm exhausted. We raced mousetrap cars in three of my classes, and built bridges in two others. I'm ready for another break. Excuse me while I go pass out now.



PS I really hate my voice.

1 comment:

betts said...

Sorry about the voice, my daughter. But you are TERRIFIC!