My Advisory students are lined up outside of the teacher’s lounge. They are squirming in anticipation, as the couch we sit on during Advisory is unoccupied and they all want to claim their favorite spots. I look up and down the line, letting students who are quiet and calm sit down first.
Kenneth, of the shit eating grin, is muttering to himself and occasionally, to the next kid in line.
Me: Kenneth, I hear you talking. I can’t pick you to take a seat until you stop.
Kenneth: I’m not talking!
Me: Talking happens when words come out of your mouth. I hear them.
Kenneth: I’m not talking!
Me: You’re talking right now.
Kenneth: I wasn’t talking!
Me: Yes, you were. I heard the words. They were coming out of your mouth. You produced them.
Kenneth: Liar!
Me: Kenneth, why would I want to lie about your talking? There are much better things for me to lie about.
Kenneth pouts for five minutes. By the end of the period, we are friends again. I think I will miss things being this simple.
The blatant denial of obvious talking is one of my least favorite middle school quirks.
Agreed. Followed by “I don’t care…”