Jenny don't play that.

I had to lay the smack down yesterday.

Our schedule has been switched around due to the MEAP; as a result, my 2nd-period geography class now meets during 7th (last) hour. (Don't ask.) For some reason, a class that is normally quite cooperative and well-behaved during 2nd period becomes a room full of Demon Children at 2:00. Yesterday, I had to give them a "Come to Jesus" talk (in teacher language, this means any speech designed to help them "see the light").

Mrs. R. had to leave early yesterday for basketball, and of course, the students decided to see how much they could get away with once they realized that Mrs R had left the building. Since I don't want to be one of those teachers who yell, I have instead perfected "The Voice"--a low and eerily calm voice, infused with so much anger that they probably WISH I were yelling.

Yesterday, using The Voice, I delivered a near-perfect Come to Jesus speech making it perfectly clear that their behavior was BEYOND unacceptable; if I wanted to teach preschoolers, I'd go back to my old job; and if they thought for one second that Miss K was going to put up with this, they were sorely mistaken. I concluded (through gritted teeth, yet perfectly levely), "You haven't seen me mad yet and you don't want to. Don't. Push. Me."

Today, I taught geography to a group of angels. In fact, they were SO quiet and coopeative that, at one point, I actually stopped talking, looked around mock-suspicously and asked, "Okay, what are you up to?" This broke the ice; they laughed and a chorus of "Nothing, Miss K!" rang out. At the end of the hour, I congratulated them on their behavior and asked, "Now see, isn't this a lot more fun than Cranky Miss K?"

It was quite a victorious moment, actually.

Towards the end of class, I decided to have a little fun with them. I dropped hints insinuating that, after their horrid behavior the day before, there was now a hidden camera installed somewhere in the classroom. They spent the rest of the hour casting furtive glances around the classroom. (What--paranoia is not an acceptable classroom management plan?) I had to turn away a few times to hide my smirk. At one point, Tyler came up to me and said, "Is that it, Miss K?", pointing to a completely innocent, random hole high up on the front wall. In a stage whisper, I replied, "Don't let them know you found it!", which of COURSE (as per my evil master plan) prompted him to announce, "Hey, everyone, the camera's up there!" I plan to milk this for as long as I can; if they start to even THINK about acting up, I will let them "catch" me looking up at the camera.