Thedewsperspective

I felt the energy in the classroom shift.  As soon as this 6^th grade class entered into my space, I instantly knew something was wrong.  So, this day wasn’t going to just be about teaching ratios and proportions.  No, this day was going to be about identifying the cause of the energy I felt.  And taking preemptive measures to make sure no one was harmed.

As a teacher, you’re always attentive to everything that takes place in your classroom.  Or at least you should be.  I notice everything.  And I listen to everything.  On this day, there was a young lady who appeared to have an issue.  She was “confiding” in her friends about her problem.  Apparently, she and another young lady were having a beef over a young man.  And of course, we all know how these “beefs” are settled by 6^th grade girls.  Fight!  Fight!  Fight!

I put my bionic ears on and wiped my glasses off to see clearly.  Besides teaching the lesson, I also became a detective.  Proximity is extremely important.  And I know how to use it in the most effective way.  I bring it in close at times to check temperatures.  Then other times I put some distance between me and the situation, encouraging the kids to talk more.  All while listening and paying extremely close attention.  If I’m being honest with you, this situation superseded content instruction for that day. 

I am a strong believer that great teachers teach beyond classroom walls.  I understand the significance of content instruction. However, I also recognize that my job is to teach the whole child.  And the whole child includes social emotional learning as well.  I use everything as a teachable moment.  I’ve stopped lessons to address the pink elephant in the room.  The pink elephant consists of underlying issues between students. These issues are oftentimes non-school related. They cause distractions and prevent teaching and learning from occurring. 

To do that, you must have strong relationships with students.  They must feel that you are someone they can comfortably confide in and trust.  Throughout my twenty-five year professional career, I labored hard at building those relationships.  For the most part, I was extremely successful.  However, on this particular day, I found myself in a classroom with students that I didn’t have the greatest rapport with.  Especially the one who had the issues.  Making the class less prone to confide in me. 

Throughout the duration of the class, I heard rumblings of what this young lady was going to do to the other after school.  Early in my investigative diggings I discerned that the other student was not in the same class.  The other student was actually in my homeroom.  A class that I had better rapport with.  And the class that would be reentering my classroom at the end of the school day to prepare for dismissal. 

I spent that whole class:  teaching, listening, observing.  Things that teachers do every day.  But this day required more from me.  I needed to prevent a potential physical altercation.  It could happen in school or after school.  That was my mission.  As I gathered information, I relayed it to my leadership team.  I’d shoot a quick text message: hey, something might be brewing between two students.  I’m on it.   I’ll keep y’all informed.  The leadership team trusted and respected my judgment.  So, they allowed me to do what was in the best interest of my students.  Plus, at this point, I wasn’t certain who the other student was.  I just knew she was not in the same class. 

I didn’t want to just “jump the gun” because sometimes students just be venting and running their mouth.  Normally redirection by an adult can quiet that chatter down.  But this student, if I told her to go left, she’d intentionally go right.  If I asked her to sit down, she stood up.  When I asked her to “please stop talking,” she talked more.  Yeah, that was this student to me. 

Needless to say, it wasn’t the most productive day in my class for her that day.  She was too consumed with the situation. It enraged her. She wanted to take her anger out on a fellow student.  I had gathered all of the information that I could up to that point.  I had secretly been in correspondence with my leadership team.  Then it was time to line the class up and transition them back to their homeroom.  It was during this transition that I finally realized who the intended target was.

As this class exited my classroom, my homeroom entered.  Their lines passed one another.  I was standing at the door.  Ushering one group out and welcoming another group in.  Strategically positioned between both lines.  That’s when I saw and heard all that I needed to know. 

The young lady who was being targeted from my homeroom is one I had better rapport with.  Her body language communicated to me that something was wrong.  Her eyes were just seconds from watering. They revealed to me that she was scared. She didn’t want to get into a confrontation of any sort.  Quickly I pulled her aside and asked her to tell me what was going on.  She shared with me in full detail all that had transpired.  She also confided in me that she didn’t want to fight. 

I had all of the information I needed.  I communicated everything to my leadership team.  They made the necessary phone calls to parents. They arranged emergency meetings. They also asked if I would join them in the meetings.  The two students were removed from class.  I tried to be as subtle as possible. I did not want to create an even bigger distraction in class. 

Meetings were held.  The fight was prevented.  And the little girls did what little girls do.  They became the best of friends.  I even think they started to refer to each other as “cousins.”  However, something strange happened amid all of this.  The mother of the child from my homeroom, the target, was upset that she didn’t want to fight.  Admittedly, it broke my heart to hear her say, “you were scared to fight”?  As if she was antagonizing her child.  In hindsight, maybe it was less antagonistic and more shame and embarrassment.  You know as parents, we sometimes take these actions as a reflection of us.  But it was clear that the young lady did not want to fight.  I wanted to interject, “she did the right thing Ma.  It’s alright if she don’t want to fight.”  But I guess growing up in certain communities, it’s not alright to avoid fights.  I understand that no one wants to be labeled scared or victimized.

It’s not as if I’m not knowledgeable of those types of communities.  One could say that I’m a product of those types of communities.  But as a father of two daughters and a teacher, my perspective about dealing with conflict has changed.  I tell all my students that I want for them the exact same things I want for my own children.  I don’t want to see my girls out here fighting.  Not over a boy, jealousy, envy, gossip, or any other type of avoidable foolishness.  I don’t want to see my boys fighting either.  I’d rather see us utilize proper conflict resolution skills.  So, we could avoid someone getting seriously injured or potentially losing their life.

When we returned to school the next day, you wouldn’t believe what happened?  Of course, the little girls are now cousins and best friends.  But if you know kids, that’s not surprising.  I was surprised that the young lady whose defense I came to started cracking slick on me.  Her temperament changed.  And she was being rude and disrespectful towards me.  Have any other teachers experienced this?  I started to think to myself, “I’ve seen this trick before.”  She obviously didn’t want to fight her peer. To avoid being labeled as “scary,” she decides to disrespect the authority in the classroom.  Which happens to be me. 

And it saddens me because we all know these types of children.  She was somewhat an outcast.  She tried to force herself into friend groups.  She was bigger than her classmates.  Different from her classmates.  She may have been retained once already.  And these were just happening at school.  Who knows what was going on at home and how she was made to feel there.

I don’t take it personally.  I just try to understand the child.  Showing up every day, putting forth my best effort to teach and support all students entrusted to me.  The precious commodities that don’t yet know their value.  Prayerfully I’ve made a difference.  Prayerfully I continue to make a difference in the lives of young people I have the privilege to teach.  For it all I’m grateful. 

A reflection of a day in a middle school classroom.

Never Forget WHY Mentorship Program Inc by Cornell Dews