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Isiah on the other hand was more difficult. Other students said he was good in math in eighth grade, but in Algebra I he was barely pulling a D. The reason was simple... his constant talking meant he wasn't paying attention to algebraic methods, and his interruptions pissed me off. The first note home didn't seem to work, so a second was soon to follow. At parent-teacher conferences, a talk with his mom helped him be quiet for one day, then it was back to more talking and interruptions. A phone call home was next. Some parents ask for weekly reports when their kids are stuggling in class, but this was the first time without such a set-up that I'd ever had to make four parent contacts in the first six weeks of school. It was ridiculous. One day in class it was more of the same. "Isiah, pay attention." "Isiah, stop talking." "Isiah, shut up." "Isiah?" Doink! The small piece of chalk I'd tossed missed the target of the file cabinet behind him and popped him right in the forehead. Now that was hilarious. Chalk-tossing was nothing new in my classroom... students were taught on the first day of school to expect it if they fell asleep during class. It happened on a weekly basis... just one of those goofy things Jones does that makes his class fun to be in. Fun, that is, to watch... not to experience. Still, it was always an effective method of getting attention back on the teacher, where it belonged. After four times trying to reach Isiah's mom to politely say her son was a disruptive, mouthy little ass hole, looking for her assistance toward getting him in line, now it was Isiah's mom turn to make contact. |