What I Wish I'd Known:

In my first year of teaching, I scrabbled around my mentors, visiting classrooms of other teachers, trying to figure out how they made their classes work. I would watch as boisterous students came in from the hall, picked up their supplies for the day, and subsided into scholars. It looked like magic.

Slowly, I picked up techniques, and now that I have accumulated enough to make my classroom work, to truly be a beginning teacher instead of a frustrated babysitter, I need to write them down so that when a beginning teacher comes to me in three years asking how to teach, I can do more than shrug my shoulders and say, “your class needs air-conditioning" (Yep, that was actual advice from an administrator last year. No, she did not show me how to put in a request to fix the AC). This is what I wish I'd known from the beginning:

1. Save your no’s. Just because you don’t want your students to do something, doesn’t mean that you need to veto every request or action. Sometimes you can say, “later” (“when pigs can fly” may be the silent addendum), sometimes you can say, “when our class has earned it” (again, flying pigs may soar through your mind), sometimes you can ask, “why are you doing that? Do you think that’s really a good idea?” Help them develop their own set of rules. Instead of shouting, "get back to work!" ask, "what motif did you choose here?" to redirect them. And then when Michelle slugs Kimmy while dropping enough F-bombs to make your classroom look like a place America is trying to free, your quiet “no, that's not what we do-- has that ever worked for you before?” has a lot more force than when you used it previously at top volume because Kasey snuck a potato chip.
2. Keep student supplies in the back of the classroom. NOT in a place where they have to cross in front of you to get a pencil. You will feel frustrated and interrupted, they will feel frustrated and ask, “Miss, how can I write your important notes without a pencil?” and you will get into a debate every class instead of teaching.
3. In connection to the above: learning is the most important thing that happens in your classroom! As a bit of a loudmouth myself, I found it incredibly tempting to respond to student snarkiness with my own. I mean, my comebacks are so much better than theirs, why not teach them what good repartee really looks like? Well, unless it’s debate class, zip it and let them learn—defusing every situation or brushing it off to focus on the lesson until you can speak with the student individually shows them that you hold their learning more important than personally establishing your own dominance, and eventually they will, too. If they refuse to quiet down and deal with something on personal time, not class time, then I give them 30 seconds of misbehavior, and after that, they’re out. Learning is the most important thing! (Note: once you have established a good relationship with your class, you can occasionally let the snark fly-- I found that students were more willing to laugh, "Ms. W's being salty again," after they knew I cared about their learning first).
4. Make it very clear when students should and should not be speaking, and make the ratio at least 80/20. Students will be much more likely to hold silent for directions, or for a quick presentation on the intricacies of bibliographies, when they know that they’re going to get to talk afterwards. It’s okay to set rules about their speaking—use popcorn style to get students to call on each other, or mandate eye contact instead of hand-raising during Socratic Seminars, or talking chips during small group discussions—but be aware that your students want to talk. Of course they do! Don’t you feel muzzled and like your time has been personally hijacked during PD’s or faculty meetings? They feel the same. Give them space to use their voice.
    
5. Don’t raise yours. My first year I used to pretend to be hoarse so that the rest of the class would quiet and I could deliver directions in a normal speaking tone. My second year I started out refusing to speak unless everyone (yes, everyone! Even that kid you've been warned about in the back-- they need to know from the beginning that you have the same high expectations for them as the rest of the class) was silent, and speaking without shouting, and it worked. Students would hush the few talking in order to be able to hear me. They were also readier to give me their attention because they knew they’d have mine soon (see #4).
6. Have a clear vision of where you want your students to be, skill-wise, by the end of the course. Use rubrics! Set a rubric at the beginning of the course, for writing, and speaking, and research standards, and use them throughout so students can chart their progress. Have them peer edit so they become extremely familiar with the requirements. Scaffold until what began as sentence stems ends in a blank sheet on which they have to make their own outlines. Watch them learn. It’s cool.
7. Be like a duck. Stay calm on the surface, but paddle like hell underneath. The students should see you serene and helpful in the classroom, available to help them. My first year I spent hours creating vocabulary cards, kahoot quizzes, sets of questions for class discussions, presenting material to my bored students… and I learned a lot about world history. So instead, give them scissors and cards, i-pads and notebook paper, and a set of guidelines on what you expect, and let them do the work. Then have them present it to the class. They will learn so much more when they teach! And you're free to evaluate, to guide, to correct misbehaviors, while they're running around like clowns at the front of the classroom, juggling the material.
8. Have color in your classroom. It’s amazing what a difference it makes. Keep your classroom a warm, inviting place, a place that declares, “this is our home,” and your students will treat it like theirs. I had no problems with graffiti or vandalism this year, because students felt that the classroom was a nice place to be, and wanted to keep it as such. They responded to their environment.
9. Read to your students. Yes, mine were high schoolers. But they still like to be read to. Fill your voice with the passion and curiosity you feel when you learn. And then have them read to you. 
10. Ask your students questions. You don’t know anything, or at least not everything, about your students’ lives. So find out. Sometimes, you’ll learn about unavoidable court dates that are causing absences, or homelessness that’s affecting sleepiness, or help forge a connection between the developmental psych we’re learning in class and the parenting that your student is doing at home. Sometimes, you'll learn that reality is not what you thought, and go home more totally mind-flamed than your students.
11. Sometimes, you need to play. Lob the paper ball back at the student who threw it, and tell them that for every question they get wrong, you get to throw paper at them. Bring your class outside to play review-500. Mimic your funniest student and watch their best impression of you. Crank up the music and let your class turn up a minute to celebrate their unit mastery (firm class rule: NO twerking!). It’s easier to learn when you’ve just laughed.
12. Love your students. Love them for their humor, their dedication, their cluelessness, their quiet quirkiness, their sassiness, their compassion, or their kindness. Love them because they’re a pain-in-the-butt who taught you to be a better teacher. You can’t love all of them—there’s always one or two who defy human connection. But love 98 out of 100. They say students don’t learn from teachers they don’t like. The opposite is also true—how can you give it your all for students you don’t love?