Our Extraordinary Year in Dad's Class

By Robert Rose Ph.D.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Nov 9, 2000
• ISBN: 9781462831586

Robert Rose Ph.D.

I would like to be seen first as a great husband and father, but I have often failed my wife and the mistakes I’ve made with our children (yours, mine, and ours - the magnificent seven) I have tried to make up for in their adult lives. They say I have. My wife and I have gone through many conflicts and difficulties, but we have survived them all and now our love is flourishing and deeper than ever. I used to fantasize about being a Nobel winning novelist, but now I just want to share my experiences and visions with others. My books are psychological self-help, educational workbooks and teachers’ guides, children’s plays, and novels. My most consistent success has been as a teacher. In “BECOMING A MORE CREATIVE TEACHER,” I explain the characteristics of a creative teacher and environment and answer the questions I have been most frequently asked.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL

They walked to the red, four-door, five-year old 1972 Datsun, and Eric moved to the front seat. Mr.Rose stopped smiled, looked at him and then at Arrianne. She had a stricken look.

Well, Arrianne, what’s the matter?

Why does Eric get the front seat?

I got here first! His eyes went from his father’s face to his sister’s. He paused, shook his head and said, OK, you can sit there.

No, Dad said, This is our first problem. We have to decide how we’re going to solve it. This deals with power, choices, and fairness. We’re going to face this all year, so what do we do?

You’re always fair, so you choose.

Eric agreed, That’s OK with me too.

So you give me the power and choice so you can get equality or fairness? But I won’t accept it. I’m driving so I always get the best seat; you two have to decide what you can live with.

We could flip a coin?

We could let ladies be first; mom always stresses manners.

Yeh, but you’re no lady; you’re more of boy than a girl.

Arrianne, a head taller than her brother, took the insult as a compliment. She was proud of being a good athlete, but she dearly loved and looked up to her more aggressive and powerful brother.

We could go by who’s the oldest, she smirked.

You’re never going to let me forget you’re FIVE minutes older than me, are you?

Why don’t we just flip a coin and the one who wins sits in the front today and we just trade off from then on?

Is that agreeable, Eric? Dad asked.

Sure, but who gets to call it, first?

They laughed and Dad took out a coin and said, Heads is Arrianne, tails is Eric.

But you’re making our choice!

That’s right, Eric. And I’ll do this a lot, because democracy is too slow. So, I’ll be a dictator at times.

Just like at home, Dad, said Arrianne.

He flipped the coin and it was heads, Arrianne beamed and Eric reluctantly got in the back.

As Dad parked the car in the school parking lot, he told them to wait for him in front of E-1. He went to the office, which was filled with parents and children checking the room assignments. He was greeted by several of his students and he shook hands with a few of the parents he knew. He went to the teachers’ room and exchanged greetings and the usual how was your summer mostly rhetorical questions. Everyone was civil, but preoccupied with his own concerns. It was a good staff and he was glad to be part of it.

There was already a crowd of kids standing at the E-1 door. They were pushing and shoving and teasing one another. Only a few even noticed as the twins slowly approached. Almost every other word was a cuss word; even the girls were foul-mouthed. Most of the kids were white with several Hispanic and even fewer blacks. Al, a well-built black boy appeared around the corner of the building and held up a junior-sized football.

Throw it here, Al, yelled Jack, a tall, skinny white boy. He ran out for a pass and Al threw it to him. Most of the other boys got involved and the girls focused their attention on Eric.

He’s cute.

He’s gonna be my boyfriend.

Not if he’s got normal vision.

Like he’s gonna find your big butt beautiful!

You looked in a mirror lately? You could scare a scarecrow!

"You suppose that’s his girlfriend?’

No, she’s uglier than you.

Wonder where he’s from?

I think he’s sent from Heaven?

And you look like Hell!

Eric turned his back on them and Arrianne consoled him with, Well, Bro, looks like they’re going to love you here just like at Crafton. You poor guy.

An errant pass came floating towards them and Arrianne stepped out and caught it easily and sent it like a bullet at Jack.

Jack looked with astonishment at Arrianne and said to his buddies, Man, she’s good.

I’m picking her on my team.

She couldn’t be his girl friend; she’s more like a boy.

Maybe he’s gay?

My boy friend ain’t gay!

He’s not your boyfriend!

Here comes, Mr.Rose!

Mr.Rose, come on throw us some bombs! Al threw it to their teacher.

He caught the ball thrown at him, but kept it. Sorry, guys, I’ve got to put your lessons on the board. I’ll be out there during p.e. You can come in and choose your seats now and then go back on the playground.

The principal knowing of Mr. Rose’s reputation of successfully dealing with problem children, had, with his permission, given him a very rambunctious group of uninhibited students. Even though it was the first day they almost knocked him down as they rushed in trying to get a good desk with a buddy. He just dodged them and smiled. He liked aggressive kids.

Mr.Rose always used double desks rather than single ones. He was constantly rearranging them in various combinations to increase their social interactions. When they entered the desks were in a large horseshoe with a smaller horseshoe within, actually more of rectangles with one part missing. His desk was by the north wall next to the end of the row of windows. He liked lots of light.

In the room next to his the sixth grade teacher kept his shades drawn on the north wall and the higher windows on the south wall also had a long canvas drape that he kept closed. Crickets and roaches loved the darkness but he fervently believed that all that darkness, except the artificial light from the ceiling, helped keep visual and auditory distraction to a minimum. His classroom and class were quiet. He was in charge and he talked most of the day.

Mr.Rose’s room was noisy and although he was soft-spoken and tended to mush and mumble some words, he was very loud when he wanted their attention. When they, especially the girls, stayed in the room and tried to engage him in conversation, he screamed, good-naturedly, GET OUT OF HERE! I’ve got to get organized. Everyone, including the twins fled.

When the bell rang, children ran, hopped, skipped, or crawled to the many lines that began to form on the edge of the playground. Each teacher had a spot and waited for her class to form neat, quiet lines before they were escorted into their rooms. Since it was the first day of school, most of the children were especially well-dressed. Mr.Rose stood briefly in his doorway and waved his class in. Some rushed, while others ambled in. He stood by his desk and repeated, Just find a desk and sit down. They continued talking.

OK, OK, quiet down, quiet down! I’ve got roll to take, so quiet down while I call your names. The room got quiet and he began. Most answered, Here, but there were a few Present which got a laugh each time, and even fewer original comments such as, I’m here today, gone tomorrow.

You’re brain’s been gone since yesterday, got a bigger laugh.

I’m not here, this is my twin.

Well, he’s as silly as you are.

He completed roll and walked to the center of the room in front of the chalkboard—his favorite place. The walls, unlike most of the other classrooms with walls already filled with attractive, colorful, and well-conceived bulletin boards, were empty, except for a few maps and movie posters that had been easy and quick to post. As the days went on he would be filling the walls with all kinds of children’s work from spelling to pictures. It was part of his philosophy that displaying children’s work was more important than having pretty walls.

It was also his excuse for his laziness for not doing the time- consuming work of keeping his bulletin boards pleasing and interesting. What he would be doing soon, as he had done in other schools and classrooms, was to cover the upper part of the walls with animals and various kinds of landscapes. He didn’t mind spending the extra time drawing on the walls because that was an expression of his creativity. He hated the drab, institutional ugliness of classrooms. Mr. Rose had gotten in trouble with one principal who felt he was defacing public property. He accused him of being a tagger. Weeks of work with colored chalk had disappeared under coats of fresh paint.

Other teachers joked with him and asked him to do their walls so they could get their rooms repainted. Fortunately, Joe Liner, his new principal, had no objections as long as Mr.Rose was willing to wash them off if he were moved to a different room—or school.

OK, OK. (That was his way of getting organized as well as to give them a signal that he wanted their attention.) You guys all _ It’s your big ears, Mike."

_ And yer fat head, Jack!

Mr.Rose’s face grew tight and he spat out. Shut up, both of you! They stopped and were silent. He’d only been at Winslow for a semester, but they knew he meant business. He could feel that this group could easily run a teacher into the early retirement. Even though this was the first day, he could only give them a little slack or it would be a very tough year.

Let’s get this straight, right away. You will get one swat for ANY fight, no matter who starts it. AND, you’ll get one swat if I hear you constantly teasing people. I know teasing others makes you feel good, even superior to them, but I will not allow you to do that! Everyone understand?

A chorus of Yes, sir! Yes, Mr.Rose! filled the room. Those who had a bit of sarcasm in their voices received a chilling look that wiped the smiles off their faces.

Now (another word to get himself organized), I know most teachers don’t do anything about teasing, but I need your help to stop those who do. You are not to respond to anyone who picks on or teases you, but if you tell me then I will take care of it. First, I will nicely speak to that person, but if that doesn’t work, he or she can expect a swat.

You swat girls?

If they deserve it, of course. Some of the girls will get as many as the boys. I’m an equal opportunity swatter. If it’s good for the goose, it’s good for the gander.

What’s that mean?

It means that whatever happens to the boys can happen to us girls, Stupid!

Judie!

She’s my sister, Mr.Rose. We always cap on each other.

I know you’re sisters, but I won’t allow you to do that here. I am going to protect you from hurting each other. I want this to be the safest place in the world. My job is to teach you, but it can only happen if you feel safe. Learning means taking a chance that you will be wrong. If you’re afraid to try things because you fear being teased, then you will not be an efficient learner. I intend to protect you from the teasers and bullies.

Several of the children glanced at Jack or Felicia. Felicia was Judie’s sister. Felicia was a longhaired blonde with sparkling blue-eyes and a petite figure. Judie was dark-haired, a more muscular girl, but their fights were legendary.

Felicia snapped at one of the girls, Don’t you be looking at me you bitch! You always start stuff.

I didn’t say nothing to you!

Mr.Rose jumped in. See, this is exactly what I mean. He glared at the girls. Sylvia wilted, but Felicia didn’t flinch; she met his eyes boldly.

Felicia, you’ve got the reputation for being a tease—and for swearing. Today’s the first day, but I won’t waste any time talking to you. Your mom’s already said to swat you whenever you need it. Swearing is like teasing. It’s disruptive and disrespectful.

Then tell that ___, she stopped and didn’t swear, but continued with, tell Sylvia that if she makes any smart a ___, she stopped again, _ remark that I’ll kick her butt.

She will too, Mr.Rose.

IF she does, she’ll get a swat.

I hear it really hurts, said Steve.

Without smiling Mr.Rose stated, It has to hurt. I seldom have to swat anyone more than once. It’s done to change uncivil behavior. He walked to his desk and picked up a long, thin, wooden paddle that had holes peppered through it that had been leaning against the wall. "This was made for me by a former student who is now a police officer.

He was in a lot of fights before he was placed in my class. He only needed one swat."

He held the paddle, made a swing as if paddling someone’s behind and as it swished through the air, the entire class sat up straight and was quiet. Last year at Crafton, I didn’t have to use it all year. No one wanted to experience it. Last semester, my first here, I had a few hardheads that couldn’t control themselves. I used it six times, for three fights. I hope I don’t have to use it this year.

The class was silent as he quietly placed the paddle by the wall next to his desk. The time I spent discussing Felicia’s problem took several minutes. Every interruption like this takes time away from things you could be learning and doing. A child that takes two minutes of the teachers’s time during class also cheats the rest of the class. You have to multiply the number of students times the time used. So, with Felicia, I spent three minutes times thirty- five, which means the class has been cheated out of ___.

_ 105 minutes, over an hour and a half.

Thank you, Judie.

OK, besides your name and what makes you unique, I want you to put down what you’d like to be called—and why? It could be your nickname or a name that you choose. Think about it, when you were born, you had no choice, but now I’m giving you a chance to choose.

What if you like your name? asked Arrianne.

Put it down that way; it’s fine.

You mean you’ll let us use that name, even if it’s not our real name? Like I could be Dr.J. or Hank Aaron?

You could be Dr.Jekyll!

Jack! He looked over at the paddle and Jack was quiet.

How ‘bout Alexander the Great?

You could be Julius Caesar or Napoleon.

How about one of the BeeGees?

Anything you want. I want you to create your own identity. I will take your choice seriously and honor whatever you select.

What if we change our mind later or just want to keep our name?

I’ll try to remember and respect your wishes.

There was a flurry of activity as they wrote down, crossed out, and finally decided on a new one. Most interesting was the most of them ended up with their own names. He knew that would happen because it is hard to give up part of what is your comfortable identity. It was their first experience with his efforts to jar them out of their comfort zones.

Next, I want you to select someone you don’t know very well and you will discuss your choices with that person. Then, you will introduce him or her to the class.

I can’t do that!

His face reddened, he scowled, and he walked over to Fred. Don’t you EVER tell me you can’t! Can’t really means won’t. And I won’t let you get away with not trying—everything! That’s what learning is about; trying different, new, and often difficult things.

I get so nervous, whined Christina, a tiny, dark-haired girl.

I understand, Honey, he said quietly, I get nervous too. Every lesson I teach never goes exactly like I planned it. I fail a lot, but I learn from these mistakes. So, even though you’re scared, you’ll learn too. I’m not going to yell at or get mad at you whenever you’re honestly trying to do something new.

There were several who just sat stiffly or squirmed uncomfortably in their chairs, but most of the class got up and found a partner. Most selected a friend, but Mr.Rose said nothing. He was pleased that they were trying to do the task. Those who didn’t move he assigned a partner. After a few minutes, he asked for volunteers to introduce their partners. As usual, the most aggressive got right into it.

When there were no more volunteers he said, Anyone else? OK, you did a good job and I won’t force the rest of you to do it—today. But you will be doing a lot of things where I expect you to talk in front of the class. Get used to the idea. There was a collective sigh of relief.

He walked to the chalkboard and said, Please turn over your paper. Write in your very best handwriting your first and last name and today’s date. They began to write as he placed the model on the board. "I’m going to