Psychology Is Spreading

Recently, while at my rabbi’s house for a marathon of chag meals, I noticed that I have been conditioned to smell challah merely at the sight of the challah board. Two meals later, I noticed a weirder phenomenon—the sight of the challah board has conditioned me to think about Pavlov. Psychology for the win.

 

Seems about right.

Last week was relatively uneventful. Sure, our school went into lockdown because of a student riot, but in the back trailers it just meant a peaceful half hour with the lights off and students huddled on the floor (and, in some instances, under desks) texting their friends. The most emotionally impactful event of the week was saying bye to a student from last year who’s moving up to Buffalo. It crossed my mind again that teaching sucks—either you hate the kids, and you have to see them every day, and it sucks, or you love the kids, and they leave and graduate, and it sucks. But I prefer the second kind, if I have my druthers.

Pranked my kids again. In my third block, I had students sign out books. After the first two had signed their name without reading the fine print about paying $40 if they lose the book, I decided to change the conditions. I wrote a line demanding $40 and their first-born child if they couldn’t return the book in top condition. EVERY single kid signed without noticing, and I may have to start a Madeline-like school where the babies grow up in two straight lines in order to keep them organized. We've had a nice conversation about perceptual blindness. Still, I feel as though this experimenting on the kids thing could get out of hand. Like perhaps it did this morning.

 

Today we were testing responses to conformity, and I warned all my students to, upon the entry of a late student, stand up and continue learning as though nothing was different. We wanted to see if he’d sit or stand with them. It led to hilarious debriefs by my students as well as funny responses by the kids who walked in late—one walked right out again when he saw everyone stand up, and only came back in when he saw through the window that we were seated again. Another slunk through the class with a half-smile on his face, and then grinned when we debriefed him. We have debated the power of having one confederate sitting, of having half the class standing and half sitting, and have made a pact to stand simultaneously and inexplicably the next time an administrator comes into the class. 

The kids later performed skits on the power of conformity. My favorite was the group of self-declared smokers performing a skit on saying no to marijuana, and in both classes the kid who pretended to resist peer pressure to party in favor of studying gave a hilarious performance.

TeacherHack #753: Today I (completely inadvertently) discovered the power of the popcorn call. This year I’ve been heading my classes steadily towards investing in their own education, taking control of the class and their own learning—hence the constant “student teachers” at the front of the classroom, the class jobs and Socratic Seminars and general student-heavy classroom lessons. But today, tired of dramatically pointing at a student and hustling everyone’s attention towards them, I told the kid who had just spoken, “you pick someone to go next. Popcorn someone.” Magically, the room quieted. Where often students talk through their friends, hands in the air, waiting for me to call on them so they can deliver themselves of some brilliant pronouncement and then go back to ignoring their peers, when they were aware that their peers would actually be calling upon them next, the room hushed magically. The kid who had called on someone tended to listen to them-- after all, they had picked them, right? It became more of a conversation and less like a hungry nest of chicks all screaming for mama bird's attention.

Seems simple and obvious, eh? Of such simplicities is a solid classroom culture built. I cannot tell you the number of times this year a student has told me, “I like this class. This is my favorite class. I really enjoy this class.” Most recently this morning outside my trailer while ensconced in a lime-green hoody that just screamed for a good hair-tousling (I resisted). I think it’s all down to turning the class over to the students to run, trusting them, and showing them that I trust them. Tell you the truth? I’m enjoying teaching more than I ever have before, too.