Cooperation and Discipline

 

 

          "O.K.  Did everyone understand the house rules?"  I nearly shouted over the din of the kids, contradicting my own rule not to speak while others were speaking.  "Now, if someone isn't showing respect, the consequence will be...run around the goat pen three times."

          "Can we go now?"  six of the seven cried at once.  It was obvious this system wasn't set up quite right.

          At school the next week, I volunteered in Hannah's classroom.  "Mrs. Seabrook," the boys, Jason and Cole, approached me as I was bent down reading with a student.  "Can we run around the goat pen tomorrow?"

          Give me ten minutes of cooperation," I countered, "I'll give you three laps."

          A deal was struck.

It was time to try our first real practice of Instant Challenge, a quick problem to solve, demonstrating creativity and teamwork.  John and I prepped them as they sat, or rather, bounced, at the table.

          "O.K., you have five minutes to build the prop and create a skit...two minutes to perform."

          Some days are rowdier than others, and this was one of them.  After various attempts at re-focusing, we asked them to line up, boy-girl-boy style.  Cooties and other contagious things prevented this from happening quickly.  In frustration, we moved on to review the challenge.  

          "Who can tell us what the problem is about?"  I asked.

          "I know!  I know!" Natalie raised her hand.  "We aren't cooperating!" she confidently sang.

 

 

 

John:  Cole, how do you tell Jason and Kevin apart?

Cole:  It's easy, dad.  Jason has a yellow shirt on.

"Buses are gone.  Everyone in the van!" I began to lead my parade to the sidewalk.  Turning around, I notice I am missing three--the boys.            

          "Hey guys, let's go!"  I encourage them.  No response as I lead the girls on. 

          As we arrive at the van I sneak a peek to see they have followed, as far as the outside steps, with a group of other boys--the "walkers".  "O.K., girls, get in," I unlock the doors and the girls obediently pile in, with a questioning look from Natalie.

          "Are you going to leave without them?"

          "Maybe..."

          I call to them once again, as they giggle at the stairs.  What will entice them?  I pull out the day's snack, a box of grahams, and boisterously

announce through the window, "Enjoy!" as I pass them dramatically back to the girls.  This gets Cole's attention--the twins follow--

          "Hey!  They're going to eat it all!  Let us in!"  They flick the locked handle and pound on the doors.

          I roll the window down.  "Now...you owe me an apology..."

In the van, the mood remains untamed. 

          "Seatbelts!"  I announce, as I start the van.  I can hear the laughing, mocking my earlier calls to get them to come.

          "We're buckled."  They concede, knowing the van goes nowhere without this cardinal rule obeyed.  But as I turn onto Plantation, the quiet country road leading to Cole's house, I notice Cole--standing up. 

          Didn't I already warn them what a terrible driver I am?  I'm sure I have, as I push the brake as hard as I can.  As I watch in the mirror, Cole's body lunges to the seat in front, landing squarely on top of the girls.

          "Seat belts ON!" I command.

          "Whoa!  That was cool.  Again?!"  I hear from the back seat.  I think my voice will be hoarse at the end of this day.

          "You own me a half an hour." I say wryly.