Classroom Kung Fu

The week I spent in America seems like a dream. Incongruous in every way, and me sick the entire time, I couldn’t wait to get back. It took a full month in Moz to get healthy again.
My first month has gone well. I am better at planning and giving lessons, and have a much better idea of what I need to do on a global level to be a good teacher. Unfortunately that involves being a little harder at the beginning of the year in terms of discipline. My third grade teacher Mrs. Davis would keep a steady rule on the class by never raising her voice, forcing us to control the noise level in the classroom to hear her. Even her scoldings were delivered in a calm and level tone. Her style was subtle and measured. This is not my style.
When a student talks I tell them to be quiet. If they talk again I TELL THEM TO BE QUIET, in something of a stage voice (full stare, let the silence hang in the air afterwards). If their misbehavior is insolent or openly disrespectful my response is immediate, my punishment public, and final. If a student complains about being there I tell them to leave. If a student cheats I give them a zero. When a student arrives late I ask why, and if I don’t like the answer (example: “I was errr….sick and errr...there were goats and ummm…) they don’t get to come in.
I respect Mrs. Davis’ style. It is perhaps more mature and maybe even more effective than mine. But it isn’t me. I’m not calm and subtle. I have found, however, no problems with behavior of any kind this year. My style isn’t all swords and shouting, but when the time comes for that I don’t hesitate. Good lesson planning is key, engaging the students is absolutely important, respecting them and their requests is necessary for a relationship. But when a student tests the boundaries I show him or her exactly where they are.
Honestly—and don’t tell anyone this—but I kind of enjoy it. No, I don’t enjoy the look of dismay in the cheater that knows they’re caught (maybe a tiny bit), or the look of shame on the good student that just can’t shut up. What I enjoy is the order. Instead of feeling insecure in front of the students I feel like I belong in this role with all of its responsibilities, and yes, its powers. I enjoy being good at it.
Who threw the paper? We are going to stay here until someone comes forward (I seem to grow taller as I walk down the aisle. I stop abruptly). Was it YOU Francisco? (the lights dim) I think it WAS you Francisco (he panics, shakes his head furiously, he looks to the exit. There is no escape). Tell me Francisco (I hold the wad of paper in front of him, my eyes fixed on his), just what should I do with you? (fade to black, blood-curdling scream)