I jinxed myself. I shouldn't have made that reference about ruling with an iron fist. Today i had to lay down the law with my Form 2 boys. They were being unrealistically chatty and disrespectful. It was the period right before lunch and so they were squirming in their seats waiting for the bell to ring.
A few of them were so disruptive, i've asked them to stay after class for detention with me. One of them, Ringo, a cherry-cheeked lad with thick rimmed glasses, rushes up to me after class to explain why he was talking and how it wasn't fair that he stay behind for something he "didn't do." I told him this wasn't the only time i've caught him not paying attention and that this behaviour is unacceptable in my class. Not only does he not learn, but the others around him are distracted by him and cannot learn as well. Now, if i've learned anything working with children, pre-adolescents and teens, it's that consistency is something they need. And something i must uphold in order to earn the respect that is required to continue any form of teaching. So no, I tell Ringo, you stay after school with me and the others. Cue the floodgates; he starts to cry, wiping his tears on his tie. I winch a bit but hold my ground. If i give in this time, there will be others and i cannot allow it.
Whatever rage was in me was teased out bit by bit and near the end of the lesson, i issued my stern lecture at full volume, arms crossed, feet firmly planted on the floor, eyes glazing over each and every one of them, pausing at crucial moments to ensure maximum effect. It worked. I think. There was silence, and maybe, just maybe, a tiny bit of fear.
Will they remember this tomorrow? I'm not entirely certain. All i know is that now i have self-imposed detention supervision in 20 minutes.
Ruling with an iron fist? Easier said than done.
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