Carrie

Craven

The room was quiet. In our staff development session, we had just watched a short video about the best way to instruct our students in speaking Standard English. The teacher in the video explained to her students that they would be practicing the “language of the job interview.” My school director asked, “How did people feel about that?”

At my school, we often call a student’s misbehavior a “poor choice.” A staff member suggested that the phrase unintentionally promotes a bias against the poor. I appreciated that insight. Wouldn’t it be much more accurate—and equally effective—to say, “That choice was disrespectful,” or “The choice you made disrupted our learning?”

Ms. Simmons had two first-grade boys by the arms. “Fighting in the bathroom,” she said. “Send them home.” It’s the second week of day camp hosted at our school. The policy is strict: Two strikes and you’re out. On the one hand, it makes sense. It’s summer camp. Camp should be safe and enjoyable for all children. It’s hard to feel comfortable when you’re worried there might be a fight. There’s no mandate for children to be here. It’s optional and a privilege.

In New Orleans it’s called “mess.” That cancerous, manipulative drama that teenage girls get wrapped up in every year. We dealt with our share of it this year at my school, most of it within the seventh grade. It came to a head with two strong-willed young ladies yelling from behind their desks, exchanging threats and insults.

Rodrigue drove me nuts. He stood too close and talked too much. If his hand was raised and I didn’t call on him, his face would contort and he would put his head down on his desk. He answered questions with a “know-it-all” tone that the other students (and I) found obnoxious.