Damage control in the classroom

A well-managed classroom with motivated students works like the proverbial well-oiled machine; eventually, even the best ones malfunction. The following personal teaching anecdote may illustrate how one can deal with a problem in the classroom before it spirals out of control.

Case Study: The Crying Student

Satoko was angry. Really, really angry.

Japanese students as a rule do not express their emotions directly. Typically, any complaint will be handled with the utmost discretion; the complainant will rarely confront the person who has caused them injury

Such was the case this time. A fellow student's behavior had so enraged her that she could barely speak to me. She fought bravely to hold back her tears, but the frustration at not being able to communicate herself in English while trying to convey her complaint (and possibly at not being able to just up and whack the object of her burning rage) was too much.

It all started about 10 minutes before class in the computer lab. While checking my email, I overheard one of my students breaking the "English-only" policy in our school. I told Octavio to report to the office at the next break and inform them of what he'd done.

"It's no big deal, Octavio," I assured him. "It's your first offense, so you'll only lose one mark. You're a good student. I'm sure it won't happen again."

But Octavio felt wronged. "Class hasn't started yet! It's only 8:50! It's okay to speak Spanish now."

I explained the school policy once more and he agreed to go to the office at the next break, but he was not his usual happy self. I let it go at that and assumed he'd come around.

Nope.

As the morning class carried on, Octavio refused to participate. The other students wondered at his unusual behavior and looked to see what I would do.

"I'm sorry class, but Octavio is a little angry with me this morning," I explained. "He has broken the English-only rule, but he thinks I am not being fair to him. Octavio, I am sorry if you are upset with me. Will you please join us?"

They laughed at the absurdity of the situation as Octavio continued to shake his head and mumble in a silly voice in response to the homework questions. Actually, his antics were kind of funny, and since there were 14 other students to focus on, I ignored him and forgot about the problem, assuming again that he would soon rejoin the group.

No such luck.

After a few drills with useful phrases about the weather, it was time for the students to practice in pairs. I had them line up back-to-back and pretend to be on the phone with their partner, asking about the weather where they were.

Eg.
A: "How's the weather in London?"
B: "Well, it is 10 degrees here and rainy. I need an umbrella. How's the weather in Seoul?"

It was a simple but fun way to practice their new English phrases... except that Octavio was still being a jackass.

While his partner talked, Octavio just stood there and refused to answer, mumbling in some language that was neither English nor Spanish. I intervened and asked him once more to be reasonable, for the first time considering kicking him out of my class for the rest of the morning. But by then his partner had found another pair to talk to.

Octavio kept mumbling, now adding a funky little dance whenever anyone tried to engage him in conversation.

I asked the class to change their partner and was immediately distracted by one pair that wanted to ask me a question. While I was attending to them, Octavio partnered himself up with Satoko.

At the best of times, Satoko's English communication skills are still rudimentary, even with the great strides she's made in seven weeks (When I interviewed her on her first day, she had difficulty answering "What is your name?" and "Where are you from?") .

As soon as she realized that Octavio was refusing to play by the rules, she decided he was picking on her (instead of merely being an equal-opportunity jerk). His goofball mischief was being misconstrued as condescending malevolensce.

Her usual happy demeanor faded as she caught my wandering eye from across the classroom with a look of total frustration.

Soon after, it was time for the mid-morning break. Octavio made a beeline for the door, looking uncharacteristically motivated. I immediately understood that he was going to the office, but not only to report himself - he was going to make his complaint heard.

In his mind, I'd been a jerk and now I was going to get hassled by administration.

Fine. I had no time to deal with that. Satoko was clearly upset and venting angrily to her best friend in the class. She had to be my priority.

Negative emotions can spread through a classroom like Bird Flu in a chicken coop.

I sat down with her and asked her why she was upset. She struggled to explain what had happened through tears and flashes of real anger.

"Octavio... so impolite! I am try so hard learn English, and he..." She hit the letters on her electronic dictionary to spell out "obstacle". "He is... this word (pointing at "obstacle"), my learning!"

I understood immediately that my best efforts to deal with Octavio without being confrontational had backfired. The way Satoko saw it, I should have ballistic Octavio from the get-go. I'd let her down.

And if I didn't do anything about it, the whole stupid thing could make my day really, really sucky.

Time for damage control.

"I'm so sorry, Satoko," I declared with my best hang-dog face. "You are right. Octavio was very impolite - not only to you. He was rude to the class and to me. But I have talked with him already, and I will talk with him again."

As penitent as I was, it wasn't getting through. "I no understand English well," she answered back. "I'm angry. Octavio was so impolite." Her expression indicated to me that capital punishment would not be out of order in this case.

"Would you like to talk with the Japanese counselor? I think it might be a good idea." This was a bit of a gamble. Negative feedback to the counselor would back to the guy who signs my checks. But to be fair, I knew she couldn't explain herself very well to me. Just to be on the safe side, I wanted to get it all out in the open.

By this time, Octavio had returned, looking rather sheepish. The counselor had no doubt backed me up on the school policy and reamed him out for his trouble. He joined his friends and began to speak in English for the first time as the final seconds of the break wound down. For the rest of the morning, he would be restored to his usual happy and talkative self.

But at his appearance, Satoko and her friend exited the classroom.

"Take an extra five minutes, everyone," I said to the class, who didn't seem to mind. I followed the ladies out. Once more, Satoko was venting in her mangled English to her patient friend. She was still furious (a little too furious, considering the relatively benign mischief that had sparked it, but I understood it wasn't a good time to lecture my student on the mental-health benefits of not sweating the small stuff).

I had to resolve it fast. Once more, I suggested talking with the counselor, but Satoko just looked at me with total incomprehension.

Desperate times call for desperate measures. "Tomoko, please explain my words to Satoko," I pleaded. "Speak in Japanese. It is okay, really. In Japanese."

Tomoko usually understood my instructions better than any of the other students and in this case she managed to save the day.

Satoko calmed down for the rest of the class and even managed to ask me a few grammar questions with a smile before the end of the morning. Later, she went to the Japanese counselor and explained the incident. She emphasized that she was happy with my class and with having me as a teacher - which was why she was surprised at how the mischief that upset her had been allowed to happen.Fair enough. Case closed.

In retrospect, the little bump in the road hardly seems worthy of such a lengthy Blog post. But I think that's because my damage control operation was a success. A potential disaster, complete with students withdrawing in droves from my class, was nipped in the bud.

And now I don't have to deal with all that crap tomorrow. Friday is here. The weekend beckons. Life is good.

tags: damage control, angry student, counselor, teaching tips, adventures in ESL