Boy, they decided to pay me back in hellfire for yesterday's kindness, I guess. Not the same students obviously, and here within lies the problem. My first afternoon class was beautiful. We missed our lesson last week due to parent-teacher conferences, and the private school teacher told me they had been bugging her about when we'd get to meet again. Heartwarming.
The second one. This is the class the private school teacher has been going on most about. I've only taught them once so far this year, so I wasn't sure how much of that to take seriously, since she also claims our 3-5 class is out of control, always falling alseep with terrible attitudes and behavior, and I haven't seen a lick of that out of them at all. She's right about this other class, though. I've got three of the top Jjang's cronies in there, minus the Jjang, which means typical out-of-control behavior, given that their head student isn't there to keep them in line, combined with another three morons who like to run their mouths.
Walking down to the classroom, I asked the private school teacher to tell me the names of the students she was getting the most trouble out of. We're gonna whip this situation into shape to-day. Super Fun Time is over.
I started the class with as much enthusiasm as I could muster. I forgot to mention that our school's kitchen's boiler is broken, so we had to eat bread and bananas for lunch today. I started out with a small speech: "It's Friday, right?" Neh! "It's six class, right?" Neh! "We had a TERRIBLE lunch today, right?" NEEEEEH! "WHO WANTS TO GO HOME? RAISE YOUR HANDS!"
Hands shoot up all over the room. "ME TOO! ME TOO! I WANT TO GO HOME! Okay, listen. We are going to work hard. Number one: learn vocabulary. Number two: worksheet. Number three: GAME! Everybody ready?"
Here we go!
They shouted out answers enthusiastically during vocabulary. I caught one guy snacking on something during listen and repeat and squeezed his mouth open, which got them all laughing. "It's okay. It's okay. We had a terrible lunch today. I understand you."
Worksheet. They got the concept down quick as lightening, gave me all the answers to the example question in record time, worked out the meaning of the other questions with pure enthusiasm. Great. We're doing great. Time to do the worksheet.
And then the nonsense starts. Level 2 nonsense I can handle. Level 7 nonsense is okay. Level 10 nonsense kicked in and it was time to take a moron out into the hall for a little one-on-one. Of course, alone in the hallway, he's full of neh neh choiseunghamnida. We get back into the room and, to cover the embarrassment in front of his friends, he instantly busts out with, "I WIN!"
Whoa. Say that again?
The whole class falls silent. "Say it again. You win?"
"Did you win?"
".... Teacher win."
"That's right. Ooh, you better be careful...."
Nonetheless, Nonsense Level 9-10 pretty much continued, off and on, and we didn't have time to get to the game. I stopped class five minutes early. Eyes, eyes, give me your eyes.
I turned to the rest of the class, purposely not making eye contact with the trouble makers.
"Listen to me. I want to talk to you. You all are good students. You've worked hard today. You deserve to play the game. These guys here made trouble. There is no time for the game. I didn't get to answer all of your questions. I'm very very sorry to you. You must be tired of them, right? You can't study with them making trouble. I promise you today is the last day. It's finished. Over. The end. I promise you. Next class, I will answer every question. If they start talking, they can go away. We will study without them. You deserve better. I'm very sorry. You've worked hard. Have five minutes of free time. You six, one two three four five six, come with me."
I've been down this road, kiddies. I'm not doing it again. I've fought and fought and fought to keep classes together before in the face of students like these, and all it results in is frustration on my part, and a loss for the students who actually want to learn. I'm not giving into the chaos this time. Clear expectations and clear consequences. Some students just cannot be reasoned with. And I don't have the luxury that the private school teacher does when she claims that she just has to "punch" them to keep them in line. So, we had a little translated chat in my office. You don't want to be in my class, that's fine. I want you there, but I'm not going to let you hurt the other students. Next class, three warnings. After number three, you're out -- up to the office, and we're contacting your homeroom teachers. I want you in class very much -- you are fun students, and I like talking to you, but it's too much. Three warnings and then you're out. You don't have to be in my class if you don't want to.
That's not the end of it either. Whoever gets thrown out of next class (and I fully expect there will be at least two or three) will be staying after school to compose an apology to the class for wasting their time in English, which will be read in front of the beginning of the next class. Rinse and repeat for as many times as it takes. Enough is enough.
Lord, sixth period on a Friday, too. That time of day will make the most docile class lose its shit. Why me?