"What is Cubism?"

A student walks in the door before the bell and leaves. He will return 10 minutes into class.

At the bell, I welcome everyone back from break and describe the daily bellwork activity: a comic strip-style sketch about how you spent your winter break. I am addressing 50% of the students who are supposed to be there. Of those, 1 is listening.

Students begin to trickle in.

Two perennially late students arrive 5 minutes into class and do not sign the Tardy Log (with which they are quite well acquainted). They ignore my requests to do so. One sits down and immediately puts headphones on, while the other circulates the room in search of batteries.

I describe the bellwork activity again. This time 2 students are listening. One of them is the same student who listened the first time. She is already done with the bellwork and is waiting to start the next activity. Her name is R, and she is my most patient student.

The first student is back now. He has joined the battery-seeking student, named A (who everyone agrees is a bit of a goofball), and is talking about portable video games. He ignores my requests for him to return to his seat. When he eventually does – on his own terms, of course – he will begin playing the video game he was just talking about. He will ignore my requests to put it away. He will wear a hood and sunglasses. He will ignore my requests to take them off. He will sometimes acknowledge my request with a preening, sarcastic “Yes, Massah!” which he does today. He will also occasionally inform me that I am one of his favorite teachers. His name is W. He will follow this script every day.

The students are chattering through the first 15 minutes of class. Some of them have begun the bellwork. Approximately one-third will never touch a pencil.

When I identify a lull in the chatter, I ask for everyone’s attention and describe the expectations for the day. Students should turn in their Cubist paintings first. The Cubist paintings are due on Friday, and it is today Wednesday. Next, students should continue working on the printmaking project. The printmaking project will conclude on Friday. After that, if anyone is finished, students should finish glazing unfinished bust sculptures. Uncharacteristically, students remain quiet throughout most of my two-and-a-half minute address.

I conclude my speech, and I ask if they have any questions. The only questions that are asked are “What is Cubism?” and “What is a bust sculpture?” I remind them that Cubism was the painting project they spent two weeks working on, and that a bust sculpture is the ceramic head that took them three weeks to make. I thank them for their attention, and let them know they can get started, reminding them to start with Cubism, then printmaking, then bust sculpture.

No one gets up.

I try to make a goofy joke, something like, “Gee, don’t everyone get up at once!”

Students continue to chatter or sit idly. R gets up and collects her things, apparently wishing she didn’t have to be the first.

I walk around the room and one by one ask students to get out their work.

They begin to do so. Some grumble.

I will be asked to re-explain the printmaking process to 2 students, who sit side by side. The second one, C, will not listen to me explain it to her friend, T, who is seated right beside her. C will ask all of the same questions asked by T. C will make the same mistakes as T. C will get annoyed with me, and say things like “What you trying to make me do?” and “You better watch your mouth” as I show her how to dispense ink from a tube. She will ask me to get each supply for her – the paper, the brayer, the ink, the cutting tool, the newspaper – and will protest when I remind her that she is capable of getting it herself. She will use each supply incorrectly. She will say that I have it in for her when I try to show her again how to use it. She will say that I am making her mess up on purpose. C is 19 and she has a child.

Someone comes to the door, bearing food – someone I don’t know – and asks to see C. I tell this person that C is in class right now and is busy. She says she has to talk to C for a minute. I tell her that C will be done at 12:16, and can join her then. This girl gets annoyed with me and asks why she can’t see C right now. I ask where she is supposed to be. She says lunch. I tell her to return to lunch, C is in class, and C will be able to join her at 12:16. I close the door as this girl continues to ask to talk to C.

I notice that some students are working, but many are working on each other’s projects. Students who are behind on their work have convinced others to do their work for them. I remind them to do their own work, and I make a goofy joke about having to give this student a grade instead. The students return their work to its rightful owner. One of these owners is J. He is constantly asking other people to do his work for him. He is also constantly asking me to get his supplies for him – a pencil, a piece of paper, his sketchbook, the printmaking supplies – and when I remind him that he is capable he will say “But you’re right there!” I am never right there.
I duck into my office, and when I return one of my students has opened the door to the outside – not the door to the hallway, the door to the outside – and has allowed another student to enter, bearing food. I do not know this student. I tell my student not to open doors for people, and I stop this student to ask him his name and why is going through my room. He tells me his name and said that all the other doors were locked (he is allowed to go through the front door, if he is a senior). I write down this student’s name, send him to the cafeteria, and tell him that I won’t write him up, but he cannot enter the building through my room and disrupt my class again. He is apologetic and nervous. (Later in the day, this student will return to my room and apologize again. This will make me feel like a heel.)

When I return to the classroom, J is sitting on the table watching another girl glaze his bust sculpture for him. I approach him by saying his name, but he ignores me. I say his name 5 more times, each one at a firm but conversational volume level. He continues to ignore me. I say “OK” and walk to my desk, where I keep my CHOICES (in-school suspension referrals). He says “wait, wait, wait” and says he was listening. I call him over to my desk and tell him if he continues to ignore me and not do his work that I will send him and his bust sculpture to CHOICES. He agrees to return to his seat and do his work.

Some students bring up completed work, and I grade a few cubist paintings and a bust sculpture.

I never get to make my rounds. I sometimes make 10 rounds a day, helping students, asking questions of them, answering their questions.

J asks for a bathroom pass at about 30 minutes before the bell. I grant him one. He will not return.

W also asks for a bathroom pass. He has used all of his passes for the semester. He convinces me it is an emergency. I cave, and grant him one. I always cave to W for a reason that I have yet to determine. He does return, though. Perhaps it’s because I am his favorite teacher?

It is the first day back from Christmas break.

This day was a typical day in the life of my third period class, which is perhaps why it seemed so intolerable. I am used to being ignored, whined at, complained to, talked over, ignored a bit more, even made fun of a little. These things are just part of the landscape at my particular high school, and I don’t take any offense at it. It’s just disheartening that it was still there. After recuperating for nearly two weeks, I had recharged my inner battery and found some physical and mental energy to return to this routine. I began to feel better. Better in myself and better about myself. And I think somewhere along the line I got confused, thinking I had something to feel better about.

But this was a particularly bad day, I must remind myself. One almost completely free of any teaching. One completely consumed with the things they told us new teachers we’d really be doing – things like classroom management, and well, classroom management. And that’s fair. After all, it was the first day back from a two week vacation. It becomes troubling, though, when these recurring issues prevent me from doing what I am trying to do: teach them about art. It is hard for me to teach them what I need to teach them. It is impossible for me to teach them what I want to teach them.

And it is becoming clear that several of these students are going to fail my class, and in all of these cases, it is because these students are not turning in their work. It is only irritating to me that they don’t listen to instructions or due dates, but it is dangerous for them. My challenge with this class is to identify what I am doing wrong on my end to engage them, and how I can address the ways they are acting out on their end.

But for now, I will just remind myself: It is the first day back from Christmas break.