Mayonnaise
Once, while teaching a poem by Emily Dickinson to one of my classes, I asked the following question: “She says that it’s not something science can identify, but something that human nature can feel. What sort of thing might she be referring to?”
“Mayonnaise,” a student replied.
Politely, but firmly, I told my student to step into the hallway. When I went out there to chat, I said, “Please do not make fun of the important things we study in this class.”
Earnestly, the student apologized, and made a good faith effort to participate in discussion of the poem more seriously.
I have found in my teaching experience that classroom management of individual behaviors is a lot easier if it is kept short, kind, and firm. And, indispensably, that firmness must be backed by reverence for the curriculum.
Instead of coming down hard, I try to always keep a respectful tone with my students (and apologize to them when I don’t), briefly set a clear and firm boundary, and move on. In my example above, I stopped what I was doing to address the student, I stated clearly what I expected, along with the reason for it: literature is important. This course of action did four things simultaneously:
By stopping my lesson for a moment to address the essence of the joke, I communicated the seriousness of the situation.
By clearly stating what the unacceptable behavior was, the student knew exactly what was wrong.
By stating the reason for my expectation (literature is important), the student understood why their behavior was wrong.
By taking that moment seriously, I indicated to the other students that the classroom is a safe place to value things without fear of being mocked.
All in one sentence and less than a minute. No lecture required.
All this would be impossible without the conviction that what we are doing together in the classroom—discovering, enjoying, and discussing literature—is vital to my students’ education. If I didn’t personally see the value of literature, I would have probably still discouraged that joke, but not in the same terms, nor with the same kind of effectiveness. I might have even responded to the joke the same way one of my teachers responded to a joke from a classmate when I was in school: “I know, I don’t like it either, but it’s going to be on the test so you need to know it.”
Classroom management does not require long lectures on behavior or respect. It requires firmness, brevity, and reverence for the curriculum—the belief that it is essential. A teacher’s passion for their subject is an indispensable part of a meaningful education.