My undergraduate degree was a theatre degree with teacher certification. Unfortunately, when I graduated in December, all the theatre teaching positions were taken for the year. So, I started interviewing for any teaching position I could find. I didn't find anything for a couple of months, so by the time I interviewed for a fourth grade classroom position at Montlieu Elementary, I was pretty desperate.
And that desperation was the ONLY reason I took this job. If I had ANY other viable option, this interview would have sent me screaming into the night. During the interview, the principal informed me why they were looking for a new teacher in the middle of February. Apparently, the teacher they had hired in August wasn't actually teaching her class. She gave them all of her copy paper to draw on, took them out for recess three hours a day, and otherwise let them do whatever they wanted. According to the principal, the kids were not only six months behind the rest of the grade, but apparently they had also regressed. She even took me down to see the class, to give me a better idea of what she meant.
This is the point where a person with options would thank you for your time and quickly get the hell out of Dodge.
Unfortunately, as I said before, I was desperate, so I took the job.
The next day, I showed up for my first day of school. When I walked in the room, there was a kid shoving another one in the closet at the back of the room. I said to him, "Hey, leave him alone!"
The kid turned on me and snapped, "I don't have to do what you tell me to, faggot."
Now, I had a choice to make. How do I respond to that? All the children were watching. This could make or break me in their eyes. This was Lord of the Flies, and any weakness on my part would be license for them to walk all over me.
Then, in an instant, it came to me. I looked him dead in the eye, and I said, "No, you don't," I said, "But you do have to get out."
"What?" he said.
I said, "You heard me," and in my best Martin Lawrence voice I said, "Get to steppin'!"
"But...but...where am I supposed to go?"
"Go to the principal's office. Go home. I don't know, and I don't care, but what I do know is that you are NOT going to stay in this room and disrespect me."
And while he was standing there being surprised, I grabbed his arm, guided him into the hall, and slammed the door behind me. Then I turned to the rest of the class, who were all looking at me with wide eyes and open mouths.
"Anybody else got something to say to me?...I didn't think so. Now everybody sit down and open your math books to page 64."
This was the first of many battles that I fought in this particular classroom, some with the children, some with the administration. But the most important thing is that this is the day that I learned my classroom management style: Shock and awe, with a touch of comedy. Over time, "Get to steppin'" became a catch phrase in class. Another one was "Mr. Scott don't play". And that's just the way it should be.
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