Herding Cats

It really is a "heat of the battle" kind of thing. When I am standing at the front of my classroom at eight thirty in the morning, there is still a day full of infinite possibilities and discovery. I look out at my students as they take off their coats and pull their books from their backpacks, and I see that there are some that have obviously misplaced or forgotten certain elements of their homework. But that's okay, since they still have another chance to get it done during morning recess. Some of them sit down and get straight to work on the assignment on the board, others wander toward their seats, or the pencil sharpener, or the friend they haven't seen since they were out on the playground six minutes ago.
Then my job starts. I know from lengthy experience that every single kid in that room is seeking some kind of approval, and it is up to me to validate each and every one of them before the day is done. The challenge comes when those especially needy souls start to feel ignored. That's where the "acting out" comes from. Way back here at the end of the day, I can easily imagine ways that I could defuse most, if not all, the conflicts that occur in my room. They are children, after all. Even though they have some pretty scary adult-sized traumas in their lives, they are still kids, and would benefit from the attention of an interested grown-up. Finding a way to keep twenty-five egos free from the crush of embarrassment and confusion that fourth grade brings is a little like being one of those plate spinners on Ed Sullivan. Just about the time you get that last plate spinning, you have to rush back down to the end of the line and make sure the ones you started with haven't crashed to the floor.
And then you have to teach them. With very few exceptions, fourth grade is hard for my kids. Many are learning a second language, and even those who grew up in this country need a ton of reinforcement. It makes those fragile personalities even more likely to crumble at the slightest touch. I am finally starting to learn to remove myself as much as I can from the interaction. Offering them calm, rational responses is the way to make a difference.
If I make it to three o'clock and no one has been sent home or left the room in a crying fit, then I did all right. If I didn't, well, there's always tomorrow.