Alex and I both know that I have no control over him. That I cannot get him to do anything without using extreme physical force. I can use all of my strength to hold him down--but to what avail? I still have a class to teach! I can drag him from one place to another--but we both know that this is an ordeal that may take up half of the classtime, that things may be destroyed in the process, and people may get hurt. He can make his body go limp so that it slides through my arms. He can writhe and flail so that I don't know who or what is going to be kicked next. He can warp his body around a desk or table so that I can't move him.
So I limit our encounters to times when I believe it is necessary. Consider this: he refuses to do his work. I insist, he insists on no. I insist on a time-out, he refuses, I drag him, I end up black and blue. And why? Because a student would not do his work? No, I choose my battles.
Alex knows that I am good at ignoring him. If he wants my attention, he must do one of three things: behave (I give him plenty of hugs, high-fives, stickers and compliments when he does so!); misbehave to the point that the entire class is being disrupted; or hurt another student. I can ignore him when he draws pictures instead of doing his work (I may quietly come up to him and try to explain the work--but in front of the class, I ignore him). I can ignore him when he throws paper airplanes at my head. I can ignore him when he screams loudly while I'm going over vocabulary words with the students on the rug. I can ignore him when he runs around the room, screaming. I cannot ignore him when he bops Ryan repeatedly on the head. And I could not ignore him today.
Today, during the 6th period, our 1st lesson of science, the students were copying a table from the board. Most were working hard; Alex was not, of course. After a while he was throwing paper airplanes and making noises. Soon he had three other boys join in, running around the room, grabbing whatever paper they could find to make airplanes, throwing airplanes at people's heads, screaming. No one could hear me in this noise; no one could work in this commotion. I had lost control of my class.
So I ordered the four boys out of the room, knowing full well what I risked with Alex. The other three boys hunched in their seats and started to work. Alex made faces at me and ran away. In-the-hallway-now, I ordered the boys. I took Alex's arm, and the battle began.
The other children were quiet as I wrestled Alex out of the room. He was determined to win--to stay in the room, to show everyone that the teacher could not even get him to leave the room. I won this battle.
In the hallway I held him down and ordered Matthew, the second-worse boy, into the hallway. Matthew reluctantly came to me, and I asked him if he would be a good student (about the only words he knows in English--"Good Student?") He nodded his head and I let him return to his seat and work.
Alex would have none of that. He fought me with all his might, kicking me in the shins several times. He tore my nylons and I have two bruises now on my legs. I had been holding a newly sharpened pencil, and in his writhing it managed to be jabbed into my arm, running up my arm until the lead snapped.
Finally, the Kazakh teacher came and talked to him in Russian. I explained that he was not allowed back into the room unless he would sit in his seat quietly.
Finally, he returned into the room, with the Kazakh teacher, and sat quietly in his desk, drawing pictures. I won, the look on his face said. He wasn't doing his science work.
But he wasn't disrupting my class.
This afternoon I saw his father and told him what had happened. I never have the right words. His father apologized profusely. He is a very nice man who is very concerned with his son's education and very much interested in the English language. (He speaks it well could recognize that I have a different accent from the English.) I hate telling him that his son has misbehaved so.
I have requested to tutor Alex one-on-one next week, when we are giving extra lessons to children who are behind. I told the vice principal that I refuse to work with Alex in a group larger than himself--no one will learn if Alex is in the group. So I will have a small group of English students to tutor, and then I will have Alex. His father has agreed to bring him for tutoring. Hopefully, some one-on-one time will help with his behavior. A tiny part of it comes from his not being able to understand me or the work.
When I told the vice principal about what Alex had done, he said that he knew about Alex. "Alex doesn't respect me," I said. "He doesn't respect anyone," the v.p. said. He said that he had already contacted the parents and that he didn't have a magic wand to make students behave.
But at least something!!!
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