During my prep period I head to the front office to ask a question. In the lobby, the Principal is talking to two of our regular “hall walkers” – students who spend most of their time in the halls rather than in class. I maintain my pace but watch, intrigued, as he moves them inexorably towards the office even as they argue with him. At one point he says, “1,150 students are in class. Why aren’t you?” I’m impressed by this statement, but the students remain defiant as I pass.
Just before I enter the office, I see a few more regular loiterers hanging out nearby. Though I have no real authority other than that of being an adult in the building, I believe that teachers and administrators should work together to help students meet our expectations, so I spur them along a bit with a joking phrase and “You should be in class.” They acknowledge my words with a clearly false response and stay where they are. I ignore their obvious lie and go into the office. Actually getting them to class would take more fight than I’ve got in me right now.
A few minutes later, I’ve finished up in the office, and I walk out, chatting, with a colleague. We continue to talk as we wend our way back to our classrooms. More students linger in the lobby. Again, I pause to say, “You should be in class.” Again, they offer anodyne excuses that have little to do with reality. I know they’re lying; they know they’re lying. We all continue on our way.
Once we reach my classroom, my colleague comes in and shuts the door behind him. “Hear me out,” he says, “before you say anything.” I figure this is because of my terrible habit of interrupting, but this time it’s more than that. He looks directly at me. “You need to stop telling kids to go to class.”
He explains his logic: every little interaction like the ones I’ve just described is a tiny annoyance, a mini increase in my blood pressure or my stress. And for what? Every time, the students lie or ignore what we say, and every time they get a little “win.” They only go to class if we follow them there, and that is a much much bigger annoyance for everyone and a bigger stressor for the teacher. He believes that ignoring their behaviour is better for us and, at the very least, no worse for them.
I have to think about this. I consider the “animal training” philosophy that suggests we should ignore behaviour we don’t like and reward behaviour we do. I consider the amount of effort it takes even the Principal to get kids to respond appropriately. I consider what I lose when I ask students to go to class but don’t follow through.
Then I think about what it might mean if no one asked students to go to class. What happens if most or all teachers just turn their heads instead of intervening? But are we really intervening now or are we just playing at intervention? I don’t know.
I’ve been thinking about this since my prep today. I can honestly say that asking students to go to class has only ever been effective when I have accompanied them all the way to the door of the classroom. Even then, I overheard one of our VPs say that she had walked a student to class today and the student left the room again within minutes. Maybe I’ll give my colleague’s idea a try, even if it feels weird. What do you think?
Persistence and Pedagogy 
Ugh. This is a tough one! It feels like a systems problem more than a you problem. I’m sure your admin appreciate that you are trying to support them. At our school, we made a playbook with teacher and staff expectations for different areas and times of the day. We used my friend Dawn’s favorite saying, “We’re all responsible for teaching all the students.” It takes a team effort, but you all have to be a part of the team.
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I tend to think like Dawn, but I also agree that this is a systems problem. I’m going to make the change for a while and see how it feels.
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This really made me think. That tension between holding expectations and protecting your own energy is so real. I love how honest this reflection is — not easy answers, just thoughtful questioning. Sometimes the growth is in the pause.
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I agree – the growth is in the pause. I’m sitting with this and thinking about trying on change just to see how it fits.
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I agree with Jessica. This is a tricky one. At my last school, I was told by admin to not allow highschool students in the elementary elevator, and each time I saw them, I melted into the corner. Couldn’t do it haha
I honestly have zero experience, but 8 years married to someone who shares this kind of anecdote regularly (less recently, since he changed schools and maybe the system is stronger?) I do know that what your colleague said about added effort is real, and without a strong system you might as well follow his advice for a bit!
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I think I’m going to follow his advice – no harm in trying it out for a while and seeing what happens.
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the only behavior I can change is my own
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exactly
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I see you, and yeah, this is a tough one. I guess I’d pause to consider what’s happening in our classrooms that makes these students feel hanging in the hallway is a better option.
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Such a tough one! I think I agree with your colleague though. Unless there’s follow through, what is really happening when you remind them to go to class and then keep walking yourself? Also, is there a logical consequence happening for those students already because of their tardiness or absence? (Most likely.) Maybe try it out both ways for a bit and see how it feels.
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“Most likely” 😂🤣😂 Um. No. The only consequence at all is that they may not earn the credit for the classes they are regularly skipping – but even that is not guaranteed because we have no attendance requirement.
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Such a great question you asked at the end of your slice! I agree that you should reward good behavior… it does take a lot of effort though! There has to be some good buy in for students to do it (snacks! Or some type of currency to get something they want).
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This can be applied to all of the “little things” that we do as teachers (chase kinds outside at recess (me in elementary), getting kids out of the bathroom, etc. but I think as you said, it depends on your willingness to follow through. I don’t know if forever “stopping” saying “get to class” is the answer — hear me out: I think you choose your wins. For example, if you know the student, and have a relationship, a quick “hey, where should you be right now? I know your teacher misses you!” could at least get the idea in their head that you know where they are supposed to be, and people are noticing. Every single time? Maybe not. Teaching is always a delicate balance.
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We can’t make anyone else do anything. We can suggest, support, encourage… but we can’t make them. I used to tell my own kids, “I can’t make you do such and such, but I can make you miserable if you don’t.” Then I’d wonder, “Who is getting the brunt of that?” Perhaps you could be concerned just with your students where you may be able to use the “animal training” strategy with some affect. If it’s anyone’s responsibility, shouldn’t it be the teacher whose class they are cutting? Such a dilemma. Trying to deal with hall loiterers slowly nibbles at your personal well-being. Stay well!!
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This is a hard one. I feel you being pulled between wanting to say something and the toll of it. Stressful for sure. I am in an international school context and there is so much about the situation you describe that bothers me and makes me want to talk to you and understand more.
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It fills me with sadness that some students don’t care about learning at all, but I think your colleague might be right. Perhaps you should give it a go?
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