Category: classroom management

“My class seems really quiet this semester. Is there something I can do to get them talking more? Anything I can do to get more energy in my classroom?”

This is a question I’ve been asked frequently this semester. I can understand why the students don’t seem as lively as they did during the fall semester. It’s cold. It’s snowing. And when it hasn’t been snowing, it’s cloudy. This is the perfect weather for staying in, reading a book, watching a movie, watching t.v. Who really wants to bundle up and trudge around campus?  And once our students actually get to our overheated classrooms, it does seem time for a nap.

My answer to this question is simple. Get the students moving. Don’t just let them sit there. Get them up. Get them walking around. This will wake them up and get their blood moving. Put them in groups and make them talk to one another early on. Don’t just let them settle into their chairs. Half-way through class have them get up again and move around. The more active they are the more energy (hopefully) will be in the classroom.

This does seem simple, but I’m going to have to admit something. As a teacher it took me a long time to take my own advice. I used to tell myself that it would take up too much time to ask the students to form groups with students across the room rather than with the people sitting next to them. I used to tell myself that it would be too chaotic to have all these people walking around a small space. It would take too much time to bring the class back together once they had been moving around. In other words, I was afraid of losing control of the class.

Since part of my job is to visit classes, I had observed several of our graduate instructors doing just what I had advised. To form groups, these teachers would have the students select shapes out of a hat and would then have them walk around the room to find the people who matched their shapes. These teachers would have the students do revision exercises that required them to move from station to station within the classroom. Whenever I observed these classes I was always envious of how these teachers were able to get the students out of their seats and interacting with one another. The energy level in the room was always increased. The classroom on the surface may have appeared to be chaotic, but it was clear that everything was under control. I wished I could do this too. But I was still hesitant.

Okay, I was actually afraid.

During my observations I would see teachers with a range of teaching styles. Some would sit at the teacher’s desk, some would sit on the desk, some would sit at a desk in a circle with the students. Some would move around the room, sitting, and standing. This made me notice something about my own teaching style. I realized I was always standing. I would move around the room, but I would never sit at the teacher’s desk. Some times I would sit at a desk in a circle with my students, but I would get up to write on the board and remain standing.

I could say this was my preferred teaching style. But I’m not sure that was completely true. After thinking about I realized it wasn’t so much that I felt more comfortable standing in front of my students as I felt the need to be standing above them. In other words, I was confusing authority with height. I’m short and the majority of the students are taller (and some are really a lot taller) than me. I felt being physically above my students gave me more control and authority in the classroom.

But one day I went to observe a class where the instructor was like me – a short woman. During this particular class she had the students standing and moving throughout the entire class meeting. She had them do one activity that asked them to move around the room asking one another questions. When they were ready to transition to the next activity she called them together and they all stood around her and listened. Watching her I realized that authority comes not from height or age, but rather from being prepared, from having a purposeful plan, from speaking with confidence. I realized that I didn’t have to speak over my students to gain their attention or their trust.

So I tried it. I first had the students move around in order to get into groups. When that worked, and I felt more comfortable I began incorporating activities that asked the students to move around the room. I still catch myself standing a lot. I still feel a little uncomfortable when a really tall student comes up to speak to me after class.  But I just try not to let my discomfort get in the way.

The other day in class I found myself answering the same questions over and over. What is it you want us to do again for peer response? Did you say we’re supposed to read the papers out loud? Are we supposed to write our partner a letter? When is the draft due? When is the final due again? Where is your office? Is it okay to use “I” in this paper? Will you take points off if I use “I”? Are we supposed to read our papers out loud? What do you want us to do?”

I try my best to answer each question as if it was the first time I have ever heard it today. I try to smile, but by the end of our class I can hear the impatience creeping into my voice. As I said earlier the draft is due on Thursday and it is on the assignment sheet I gave you last week. It’s also posted on Moodle. And maybe if you put your phones away you would know. I don’t actually say that about the phones, but I think it because I’ve had to remind a couple of people to put their phones away.

After class I go up to my office and check my email. Several students from my other class have emailed me to explain why they may not be able to come to class tomorrow: I’m sick. I have an appointment at health services. I have a review session for another class. I have to . . . .

I shut my office door and put my head down on my desk.

What is the matter with students?
Why can’t they just do what they’re supposed to do?
Why don’t they listen?
Why don’t they read the syllabus?
Why don’t they read the handouts I give them?
Why don’t they stop texting in class?
Why don’t they just stop talking in class?
Why don’t they pay attention?
Why haven’t they learned anything?
What is the matter with them?

Okay, I’ll admit it. I’m cranky. I’m crabby. And I’m tired.

I’m also over-whelmed.

Every time I look at the calendar that first twinge of panic I felt when I flipped the page from October to November becomes stronger. The end of the semester is coming and coming fast. There seems to be so much to do and so little time. Every night I wake up at 3:00am wondering if I’m really going to get everything done.

I find myself complaining about everything. It’s cold in the morning. It gets dark too early. My classes aren’t going well. I have papers to read. I don’t know when I can get the yard raked. I don’t have time to do anything.  I’m tired.  I didn’t teach my students anything.

My husband points out that I always feel like this in November. He’s right.  The end of the semester is over-whelming. Back in September it seemed like we had all the time in the world to work through the writing process and the units. But now, in November, the end is so close and the number of classes that we have left seems to be slipping away. And, because it is November, the weeks we do have left for the semester are shorter due to the two holidays. It becomes clear that we have no buffer—the semester is going to end.

And if I’m feeling over-whelmed what are my students feeling? My students are working at finishing up not just my class, but three to four other classes. They are facing finals for the first time. They are registering for next semester classes for the first time on their own. And they are looking ahead to the holidays and the January break. In other words, this is the first time they have faced this end of semester crunch.

So maybe my students seeming inability to focus is really a symptom of being over-whelmed. Our students are learning how to manage their time and how to deal with the end of the semester stress. They are learning there is light at the end of this tunnel.

So how do we all deal with all this over-whelmness?

First, I try to remember that my students have been writing all semester and because they have been drafting and revising they have learned how to draft and how to revise. Writing is an on-going process and since they have been writing consistently and talking about writing they have all grown as writers and will continue to progress when they leave the classroom.  Even though my students don’t have the same amount of time to complete their final units as they did the earlier units, I remind myself they have already learned what they need to do.  So I tell them. You know how to draft. You know how to develop your ideas. You know how to do peer response. You know how to copy edit.

I also remind myself that being a little more concrete isn’t a bad thing. Going over the plan for the end of the semester at the beginning of each class helps to make things appear more manageable. Here is what we need to accomplish before the end of the semester and here is how we are going to do it.

I also keep in mind what I have learned from Gertrude Stein—there is no such thing as repetition.  Or in other words, repetition isn’t a bad thing. When we are over-whelmed it can be difficult to take in information. So repeating can help to make sure everyone is and stays on the same page.

And just acknowledging that the end of the semester can be over-whelming helps. It lets the students know they aren’t alone.  We’ll get everything done – it will be crazy, it will be hectic, but we’ll get everything done.

 

The flu season is over and it looks like spring fever has set in—at least in my class it has.  The week after spring break I could see the beginnings of the symptoms. Although we were all grousing about how cold it still was, how mis-named “spring break” was because of the snow storm we had, how we all wished to see the sun again, the signs of spring fever were there. When I asked my students to do a freewrite they looked at me blankly.

“Freewrite?” They asked.

“Yes, a freewrite,” I said.

“What do you mean?” they asked.

“I mean write for five minutes like we usually do.”

And now the weather is really getting nice.

 So if you think your students may be coming down with spring fever here are some symptoms.

Blank looks when you ask them to do something you have asked them to do in class all semester ( i.e. get into small groups, get into a circle, do a freewrite.)

• Become extremely animated when talking about non-class topics (i.e. where they are going to be living next year, when their registration time is, how to get tickets for the spring concert) and then becoming very quiet when you ask then something related to class (i.e. the reading, questions about the homework).
• Coming late to class.
• Not coming to class.
• Forgetting to bring assignments to class.
• Asking to go outside.
• Look of shock every time you point out how many weeks are left in the semester.

I used to think spring fever was brought on by actual spring weather – warm weather, so warm you can take off the winter coat you’ve been wearing since November, grass turning green, daffodils blooming, sunshine, staying light past 4:00pm. But this year, since up until last week  it was still snowing in the morning at my house, I’ve come to realize that spring fever has almost nothing to do with the actual coming of spring. I’ve come to realize that the blank look my students give me is really just covering up the panic they are feeling about the end of the semester. They have a lot of work to do, not just in my class, but in all their classes and they know they only have a certain amount of time to get everything done.  And although we are nearing the end of this semester, we are all in the middle of planning for when the semester is over. Students are figuring out their plans for the summer, registering for fall classes, figuring out their housing assignments for next year.  In other words, even though they are physically present in our classes right now, mentally they are preparing for the summer and next year. Believe me I understand. I catch myself doing the same thing. And let’s be honest. It has been a long, cold winter trudging around campus and we are all a bit tired.  We are all ready to be done.

Are there any cures for spring fever?

I don’t know if there is a cure other than the coming of summer, but here are some things I try to do to combat spring fever.  First I give my class a little pep talk. Come on everyone. We only have a couple of more weeks to go—hang in there—stay focused. When that doesn’t work I’m ashamed to admit I have tried threatening. Okay—remember everything counts, so you could still fail the class if you don’t show up, don’t put in a good effort.  Just because you did a good job at the beginning of the semester doesn’t mean you can coast now.  To be honest I don’t actually use the word “fail” and these pep talks don’t really work that well.

Sometimes I find switching things up can help. Sometimes my classes can become a bit routine—doing the same kinds of things in the same way. So sometimes I try something different. Maybe ask the students to draw as a form of generative writing instead of writing. Maybe ask students to physically cut up their essays as a revision activity rather than exchanging papers and writing comments. Sometimes just changing things helps the symptoms of spring fever to subside for at least one class period. Sometimes just getting students up and moving around helps too.  It is a little harder to daydream about being on the beach when you have to get up and walk to the other side of the room.

I also just try to put my own feelings panic aside. Like the students I’m feeling a little overwhelmed – the end of the semester is coming so fast and the list of things I need to get done is also growing. But for the time I’m in class, I try to focus on class and try to challenge all those feelings of panic into enthusiasm for peer review.

But the best way I’ve found to combat spring fever is for all of us to just hang in there. Summer is around the corner and we will all get there.

 

 

It looks like it is going to snow this coming weekend and I’ll be hoping for a snow day. Whenever I call the University’s Snow Line and I hear those magical words, “The University is closed today,” I start dancing around the kitchen with my dogs yelling, “Snow Day! Snow Day!” I immediately become that 4^th grader at Hollis Elementary when a snow day meant playing a marathon game of Monopoly with my sister and sledding all afternoon. But if the snow day happens to fall on one of my teaching days, my 4^th grade self quickly fades as my teacher self kicks in. This snow day means I’m missing class, which means, now, we are getting behind.

After I shovel off my porch (something my 4^th grade self wouldn’t have done), I go to my study and begin the process of re-arranging the class calendar in order to make-up what we are missing today. This process is not always easy. Let’s face it, our College Writing class is already packed, already fast paced and getting one day off from the calendar can really throw the whole semester off. A snow day, also leaves me no flexibility to spend (if needed) extra time during the “Interacting with Texts” unit or with the “Adding to the Conversation” unit. Missing this one day could even cut into my plans for the TBA unit.

As I go through the process of re-arranging dates, I find myself getting anxious. How am I going to get everything done? How am I going to cover everything I need to cover? How am I going to do everything that I planned on doing? What is with all these holidays? Why do we have to have spring break? This will put us even further behind. DAMN SNOW DAY!  When I start thinking this, I need to take a step back.

I think, as teachers, once we have planned out what we are going to be doing for the entire semester we become committed to our own plans. This isn’t a bad thing—we should be committed to what we have decided to do. But sometimes I think we become too committed. We begin to see everything we have planned as things that MUST be done, MUST be covered and if these things are not, the students will leave our classrooms not having everything they need to be successful college writers. But we need to put things in perspective. Rather than seeing the calendar as something chiseled in granite, in may be useful to see the semester as something more fluid, more flexible.  Things can be re-arranged and some things can be let go—yes, let go.

Let’s face it; not getting to an essay in the Student Anthology, not doing one peer workshop, not doing one revision activity is not really going to prevent the students from expanding, developing, and revising their essays. We need to remember that College Writing is about the process of writing. It is also about repetition. With each unit we discuss the importance of audience and purpose; we show them the importance of drafting, of reflecting, of getting feedback. If a snow day prevents us from doing one thing, during one unit we know they will get it later in the semester.

So rather than looking at my schedule in terms of how to cram everything in, I try to look at it in terms of what needs to be done and what can be let go. It could be that the peer review workshop my students are missing because of this snow day is crucial in helping them revise their initial drafts. But the great audience exercise I had planned for the next class meeting isn’t as crucial and can be cut out. It becomes a matter of prioritizing what is needed to move the students through the writing process. And it also becomes a matter of accepting that   the weather is out of our control.