SUBSTITUTE TEACHER TALES: POETRY PROMPT---DISCIPLINE

Someone knew something about the Newtown shooter that, perhaps, should have been shared with the Newtown community. 

Someone is not saying something, is whispering amongst others who also knew something, or is thinking that speaking up now won't do any good, or is too late.

As a teacher, I could ALWAYS tell, when in a conference with a parent, that I wasn't sharing anything about a child's behavior that the parent didn't already know. 

In some cases, parents would become defensive and even belligerent. Telling them their child had broken a rule would strike, not the nerve that said, "Thank you. I need to correct my child" but the one that yelled, "Who do you think you are, and why are you attacking me?"

When I would hear comments like, "I know my child can be a handful.", I'd think to myself, "That's alright. Your child may act a fool at home, but he/ she is going to follow directions in my classroom". That was, of course, only after thinking "Well, what the heck do you expect me to do with him/her?" 

It was okay, though. 

I knew EXACTLY what to do. 

I prayed. 

A LOT. 

I reasoned with kids. 

A LOT. 

I wonder if the scores of children I taught ever knew that it was I who craved peace and pleasantness the most? 

I didn't intend to have problems. 

I was going to teach Art, AND have order in my classroom, and no one would be excluded. 

I didn't think that was an unreasonable hope or achievement.

At the end of the year, some parents who dreaded summer vacation as much as they celebrated the first day of school, would ask, "Why does he/ she listen to you?" 

My reply would be something along the lines of: "I'm a mother, myself. What I expect from my own child, I expect from yours. 

What I wish for my own child, I wish for yours. 

I don't play with my students. 

I'm their teacher, and I love them. 

I would do all I can to help them, and won't hurt them, but I'm not trying to be their friends. 

They know that I mean what I say, and there will be no dialog or debate. 

If they want to come in here and stay, they know they have to behave themselves, and follow directions. 

I also need to know that I have the support of parents, and that they acknowledge that where their children are concerned, we are a united front--- a team. 

I am not the enemy. 

The school system doesn't pay me enough to be afraid of or intimidated by a child, nor his or her parent."

One needed not resort to any of the various methods now deemed corporal punishment, either, (although just one good old fashioned trip to the woodshed may have been just what a few kids--and parents--may have needed). 

Most parents would admit they wouldn't trade places with a school teacher for a minute. 

I remember the neighborhood parent who used to be a veritable hellion in her criticism of the school and teachers, and her defense of her children. Then, she became a school security guard. 

From that day on, she was the biggest, most outspoken advocate in the community for teachers, and the biggest critic of parents who raised the most hell, but whose presence at the school was rare.

There is a way to deal with children, whereby they know you love them, will protect, and go to bat for them. 

Defending them when they're wrong, making excuses for, minimizing, being amused by, or putting up with disrespectful words and behavior, however was, and is never smart. 

When there is no mention of consequences, or parents are inconsistent, it's not long before children begin to see themselves as their parents' equal. 

If they see their parents as people who can be easily manipulated, it's not long before they see other adults as pushovers, too.

I listen to the way some children talk to their parents and I cringe. 

I see kids in public behaving ridiculously while their parents seem to have lapsed into a coma, and I can imagine my late mother, late grandmothers, or any adult from my childhood whose mere look in a child's direction could freeze inappropriate behavior in a matter of seconds. 

Sometimes, I think it has become easier to drug children and give their behavior a name, than to take the time required to teach them right from wrong.

Some parents act as if they just don't want to be bothered, and don't care what their children do. Some don't want anyone to say anything to their children. They say they can handle them, but they either don't, or won't do it. 

Further, they expect the people upon whom they unleash their children to understand.  (So you're NOT going to turn down the volume on the video game you brought to church, close the zip lock bag of goldfish crackers, pick up the crumbs from the floor, and just let your child kick, scream and cry through the ENTIRE sermon, ARE you? 

Then you're going to get all mad and offended when you're asked to step out, or an usher comes to save the day for everyone? Then you have the nerve to conclude that people can buy the tape? So they can do what? Meditate on, and reminisce about your child's meltdown and your inconsideration?...but, of course, I digress.)

I wish I would have talked back to either of my parents, let alone hit one of them. 

I imagine there would have been vehicles from two government agencies outside our home: The police and the coroner. Guess which one I would have been riding in? Mine would have been a lovely funeral where everyone would have commented on how well the undertaker fixed my corpse's swollen lip. 

The thought that either of my parents would be afraid of me, never crossed my mind at any stage of my life. Not listening to either of them just wasn't an option. 

(Case in point: Four of the 12 rolls were a little browner than the others on Thanksgiving Day, because my father said "It's time to pray over the food." That meant stop what you're doing and head to the table NOW. 

Did I mention I'm not 8 years old? )

Good home training sticks, and it can't suddenly start when a child is looking at you eye to eye.

There is a huge difference, however, between a defiant, disrespectful, unruly, child whose parents failed to discipline and teach respect/manners, and a mentally ill child whose parents don't know what to do, beg for help, but don't get it.
She's an adult, and taller than I am, but I can't imagine being afraid of my own child. 

Anyone from the "I brought you in this world, and I'll take you out" generation, gets it. Those who managed to survive the school of thought which had mantras like:
"I won't have NOTHING in my house that I can't control!", or
"You don't have any rights. You do what you're told.", or
"Don't embarrass me. Wherever you act up, is where you're gonna get it.", have a VERY hard time watching kids run roughshod over their exasperated parents. 

Hearing parents say, "I just don't know what to do with him/ her" makes some old-schoolers shake their heads and mutter, "Give that kid to me for one day, and I bet you won't have any more trouble out of them."

MODERN CLASSROOM: A RANT

Lots of information on the walls

For official observers to see

Lots of ideas for lessons to learn

But, it's too bad they can't read

Smart mouthed, foul mouthed, defiant ones

Live to challenge you

Sad, they don't have sense enough

To see the harm they do

It's on themselves that they project

The greatest, darkest light

Failing to appreciate, their actions are not right

Manners lost; kindness missing

Just basic rules they lack

Never knowing why they're here

But they keep coming back

I heard one say, "This school is dumb"

I said, "But wait. You're here".

I guess he hadn't thought of that

As his smirk disappeared

He said that "the academy" he'd attended, called him "bright"

The only reason he's now here's, because he chose to fight

"They put me out", he said as if he didn't understand

Acting a fool is something for which some schools just won't stand

And so, it seems that some places 

Have become the dumping ground

Where disruption has no consequence

And order can't be found

And those who do know how to behave

Whose hopes to learn are so sincere

Spend endless days in chaos

Thinking, "Get me out of here!"

There's no amount of money

No new technology

To hide the fact that scores of kids

Are woefully in need

They're crying for attention

That's what it's all about

The way they've chosen, sadly

Is to spend days acting out

The talking back, the disrespect

The words that bite and sting

For some, has removed all the joy

From this noble teaching thing

Too many getting punished

For daring to do right

Too many get uprooted

Before kids see the light

But someone knows what's going on

It's so hard not to care

Could it be systematic

This failure in the air?

We know what works

We know what won't

We could set all things right

The elephant that's in the room

Is fueling all the blight

It's time to get control of things

The time to act is now

Dysfunction breeds in apathy

You get what you allow