The Poo-Flingers

A horrible infectious disease is spreading through my classes, taking my little sweet monkeys and turning them into poo-flinging primates: Eighth-grade-itis. Apparently, it's a horrible disease that overcomes all the senses, including the sense of reason. A once-bright, intelligent student who is infected with this fungus-like disease becomes a stammering idiot, blabbering unintelligible thoughts onto paper and launching inappropriateness into the air like little balls of poo -- stinking up everything, everywhere, and NO ONE (including me) wants to touch it with a ten-foot pole.

I have tried, at no avail, to find a cure for this disease. But this being my first year with these monkeys as eighth graders, I feel as if I'm fighting some unknown disease from outer space [my teaching partners who have taught eighth grade for some time now find this HYSTERICAL, by the way].

Here's what I've tried so far: (1) loosen up -- don't laugh. I really thought it would work. The "look" got them back in line, as did a new seating chart. But it was only a Band-Aid. *sigh* Failure.

(2) Be more strict -- okay, it's not me. I can't be strict. Fair? Yes. Strict? No. I could never be some ruler-totin' nun. The kids saw right through it...and, of course, my finding a sign that read "Tag the Hag" with a not-so-flattering caricature of moi at the back of the room sealed the deal. That's just wrong. Failure.

(3) Get the poo-flingers on my side -- I really thought this one out. I pulled a few kids aside in each class, told each that he [yes, I'm being totally sexist here...all my poo-flingers are males] is viewed as a leader among their peers, that they could, single-handedly, morph the class into a working machine. That worked pretty well, until they realized that I had talked to more than one of them, then I had a mutiny on my hands. EPIC fail.

So, I did what any good teacher would do. Today, in each class, I had a heart-to-heart (well, homo sapien-to-primate) discussion with the little poo-flingers. I revisited my philosophy of teaching. We went over the long list of rules (I'm being facetious, of course, I have only three -- be ready, respectful and responsible -- I'm a BIG believer in Love & Logic -- more on that later). And, I really let them know that I understood how they felt. I lamented about my 8th grade year, how I, too, couldn't wait for high school...blah blah blah...I took them with me on a very long walk down Amnesia Lane, them kicking and screaming all the way. But it worked. They really got it, I think. They put the poo away and really got focused on their work again. The class is, once again, running smoothly (yes, I'm aware that it's only Monday).

Now if only my 7th graders weren't starting to arm themselves with poo.