teaching cause and effect

There's a reason why I'm not a physics teacher (or a cop)--or really any of the hard sciences. I don't really like the idea of cause-effect. It's just too hard and fast--in a world which doesn't feel that simple. Yes, it's good to be aware of, but to structure my classroom around cause and effect even to me, feels like torture.

A few months ago, I wrote about the importance of trusting your students--and of deeply, wholly loving them. Which sounds great, and as a teacher--when it works--I'm sure feels great. But. it hasn't been working. maybe it's this age. maybe it's these students. maybe it's all these cultural differences--which to them justify their behavior, and to me totally confuse/annoy/disrespect.

Which as a new/young/excited/enthusiastic/I love teaching! first year teacher, has honestly been quite a blow. because how much do you learn when you are suffering? (well, maybe a lot, but not necessarily about what those making you suffer actually want you to learn--I know I'm certainly learning a lot this year, but I'm not sure it's about teaching). and it seems the emphasis in my classroom needs to shift from supporting/nurturing to punishment, rules, regulations. behavior and consequences.

when I think about my own education it was the respect/caring/interest from teachers which gravitated me to them. The tough-love Coach Pickering--well, he didn't click with me, and I was ready to avoid him like the plague (nor have I thought of him since graduating, which perhaps only furthers the point). whereas, playing 4-square with the social studies teachers--and feeling cared for, feeling treated like a person(!) that made me want to show my respect for them more. And when I was preparing myself for beginning teaching--it was these teachers, the ones who enriched me as a student/being--who I wanted to sit down with, to discuss, to learn from, and ideally, to emulate.

after five really difficult months teaching--from cat and other animal noises when I turn to write on the board, to rampant cheating (from homework to midterm exams), orgasm noises in class (during student presentations!), a constant war with them and their cell-phone addiction, blatant (and not so blatant) lying about any number of things, wild complaining ('if we fail this test it is your fault'--because I didn't postpone the *vocabulary quiz* by a day, when they had already had 1.5 times the normal amount of time. and he honestly believed it would be my fault),  to students saying all sorts of things--from swearing, to talking about their clocks or ajvar, to bitching about me--in languages they think I don't understand (and so therefore, think they can get away with it) but (unfortunately) I do understand enough to be hurt (and/or incensed) by their words, to students biting each other in class (need I continue?).

And my class rules--although not written and posted--were simple: don't throw things, don't eat in class, no cell phone use (all, mind you, school rules), listen to directions. simple stuff. and every day at least one person challenged these rules. It's been five months of feeling like every moment the students walk into the classroom--it is not I who is testing them about the knowledge they are supposedly here to develop, but them here to test me, to test my will and to test my strength.

It came to a head on Thursday--after the orgasm incident the day before--where I had them each write about what they thought respect was--what makes you feel respected, how it makes you feel, and how you feel when you are disrespected. the classroom was never so silent.

and in those moments my heart swelled--they were saying the most profound things (other than the ones who needed to wikipedia it. because why?): there are two kinds of respect, respect from caring and respect from fear; respect is when you are treated the way you want to be treated; when you don't do things to hurt or harm others; being respected makes me feel valued, makes me feel cared for, makes me feel like I am in the right place. Feeling disrespected makes me feel worthless, makes me wonder if I am doing the right thing, makes me question humanity, it makes me feel empty.

I know I'm not supposed to have favorites, but one of my students (the one who called me 'mom') who is super shy--and whose English isn't at the same level as the other students (which I think makes him even more shy), wrote "respect is being cared for and it is the best feeling in the world." as as I am reading this--how can I not think, 'so I want to treat you with more respect, so that you feel worthy of your place in our class, and feel appreciated'?

and reading their responses: I felt like I was having a break-through: I just need to ask them questions where they need to reflect upon themselves--they understand what respect is, and therefore, if they know, If I treat them with it (and they feel it), then they will act with it too (because they understand how painful disrespect is).

how naive I am.

I think for some of my students: they feel entitled to my respect. no matter what they do, what they say or how they behave: I am here to serve them, and must respect them. If they do poorly on an exam--it is a reflection only of me, not of them. If they want to talk about their extended families (a major topic of (side) conversation in my class) or about what they want to eat at home, or god knows what else--I am supposed to let them, because this is their class. If they want to use their phones, who am I to tell them no? (and their parents tell me that I need to discipline them because their mother's can't at home. hmm). another one wrote in large letters at the bottom of his page "but respect can be lost and must be earned!" that's a subtle message, but thank you for informing me.

After this writing about respect--we moved on to the actual lesson of the day--and almost instantaneously they were back to their same old selves--disrespecting the class rules, not listening, paying attention, or showing any regard for me/my classroom/learning. so I stopped class again, and wrote back up on the board what they had just told me about what respect is--how it feels, how we practice it, and how it feels to be disrespected. and I asked them why I wanted to discuss respect with them. and even while some of them are trying  to answer this question, they're talking over each other, talking about a wide array of topics (in Albanian--so they think it's ok) not even remotely related to class. and finally one asks me, "don't you want to say something too?" and of course I do--but I respond 'but tell me, why should I tell you?"

and some smart aleck from the back pipes up 'why not?'

and with that, I leave the classroom to let them answer that question themselves. and to cry in the hallway.

I think I let myself care to much about them ('is that possible?' the optimistic part of me that they haven't killed yet pipes up)-and about how I was teaching them, about how they treated me. and rather than that caring strengthening my relationship with my students, I feel abused by them. five months of having my sense of worthiness, my sense of 'doing the right thing' fundamentally shaken.

and unlike other kinds of relationships: I can't take distance from them, can't place the ball back in their court, because I am stuck with them. and have to rebuild an entirely different relationship with them, with teaching.

day one: dictation of the class rules.
day two:? we'll see. 75 more days of law enforcement. behavior and consequence. behavior and consequence. sigh.

I can already feel that this new environment is going to be exhausting: it is everything that does not rejuvenate me as a teacher, everything that exhausts me, that does not fulfill me. and it's hard to imagine this as being my profession.