I lost control of the third period class yesterday. I was teaching a lesson about characterization, and how we can infer what types of people characters are from what they think, say, and do in stories. The class went berserk with talking, slapping, book throwing.
I tried: yelling, turning on my timer and announcing detention, counting backwards from five at the top of my voice, bribery, threats to call parents/guardians, office referral slips, pleading, cajoling, begging, screaming, overturning a desk, banging on the chalk board with a metal pipe. Finally I sat on the desk with my saddest Droopy Dogg face. Konika saw me and smiled.
"Aw. He look sad. I think he want us to be quiet. Let's be quiet." At least someone was able to infer something from what I did.
They took pity on me.
1 comment:
One word: cockroaches.
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