A Hard Class

I have been teaching English for about 12 years, which means I have developed a lot of habits.  I use the same books, the same games, the same examples, the same explanations, almost every day.

Bart Simpson is based on real characters

I call them habits.  Some people would say I’m in a rut.  With adult students, who are paying for the lessons themselves, it’s not a big problem.  If they don’t like my methods, they will find another teacher.  I have a fairly good retention rate, so I think most of them like my methods.
This morning, however, I was teaching a class of first graders.  It is, without a doubt, my most difficult class.  They will not sit down.  They will not be quiet.  If there is something they don’t want to do, they just say no.  One of the little boogers smacked me right in the balls.  (No permanent damage done, and he really is, basically, a sweet kid.)
I’d tried all my usual tricks.  The flash cards were good for a few minutes.  Half of the class was participating, which is more than average.  A couple of others were drawing caricatures of me on the board.  One child was making paper airplanes.  (He’s actually pretty good at English.  I think he was just bored.) Another little girl just wanted to show me some gymnastic tricks she knew.  I tried reading to them, but realized pretty quickly that I was reading to myself.  I did my very best impressions of a duck, a dog and a train.  Nothing worked.
So, I tried a new game.  One by one, I wrote their names on the board, followed by the word “is” and a blank space.  I knew it was risky, and I did have to censor out quite a few bad words, but it got their interest.The boys came up with all sorts of military terms, while the girls focused mostly on animals.  It was fun.
It’s ironic, but true.  A teacher learns the most from the worst students.