Teaching Elementary, My Dear Watson

26 - Basketball Finals

26

Basketball Finals

Monday, January 16

Jenna whispered to her neighbor during "USSR". Her focus was neither "uninterrupted" nor "silent", and it was the opposite of "sustained reading". Indeed, she seemed more into talking than looking at her book, so no part of the acronym was satisfied. A perfect four for four. Kevin walked over to her. She seemed surprised, as if her voice was so soft that it should be considered the same as silence.

He whispered, "Jenna, bring your book and move to the table in the back."

"But Mr. Watson," she protested, "then I'll be all by myself."

"Yes, Jenna, that's the point." She obeyed, grumpy but without further protest. I'd prefer to never need to enforce rules, but that's life. Parents do it, educators do so, and cops do too. There are limits everywhere.

As a beginning teacher, Kevin had moved the line, meaning he pretended the rules had not been broken, and just hoped that students would go back to following them. But he learned that leniency invited abuse. So his process was to communicate with respect and humor, if possible, but to be consistent in enforcing rules.

Miguel, upon hearing about Kevin's habits of moving kids to help them focus, or delaying their departure to lunch for a few minutes if work had not been completed on time, called the process "isolation and starvation". Funny but inaccurate. His response wasn't permanent. Short-term consequences reminded the students to follow directions because the rules were implemented for the good of all. Work completion and attention increased, both of which improved learning.

Setting and administering rules would never be the most enjoyable aspect of teaching for Kevin, but he knew they were important. He had seen super athletes get away with too much, because their schools or coaches wanted success so badly that they were willing to look the other way, to ignore drug use or disrespect or worse behavior, so that the players learned they could do without consequences. Rock musicians, movie stars, political leaders, and wealthy corporate types sometimes felt they were entitled. His students deserved to learn that what they accomplished had to be earned. Kevin felt irritated at times, hoping his kids would just behave so he wouldn't have to put energy into keeping them in line. He smiled. If wishing were enough, the IRS would collect full taxes voluntarily from everyone without needing audits. We taxpayers would behave perfectly as well!

At lunchtime, Kevin held basketball practice. The wind blew in gusts, harming some shot attempts, but it wouldn't make a difference today. They were just warming up before the girls' championship game that night, to be played indoors at the local community center gym. There were bleachers where a few hundred could sit and watch. Kevin didn't think there would be that many attending, but it was wonderful to hold the finals in the evening so families could be spectators. His girls were excited. He felt they were a cohesive team. Sonya and Erin had bonded positively, healing the conflict they had at the beginning of the football season. They'll never be best friends since they're so different. But they have each other's back now. That's what teammates do.

"Tonight you'll play Buena Vista again. You remember them from the football finals." The girls nodded. "I'm sure you would like to win. Me too. But the key is to perform well together. No one wins a game alone. Play smart and pass like you have been doing, and we'll accomplish great things as a team. I know you'll try your best. You always do, and I'm proud of you all." The girls beamed.

They had a short scrimmage, working on a new play to start the game. Kevin brought them together and talked about what time they should arrive at the gym and what to bring. Then they left to eat lunch.