Crazy Teacher’s Guide to THE LOOK!

In honor of summer vacation, Crazy Teacher, my alter ego, will be posting to this blog. Crazy’s advice for dealing with difficult people and situations is, “Show them that you are crazier than they are.”  Here is the last excerpt (for now) from The Crazy Teacher’s Advice Book.

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Question to Crazy Teacher

I suspect in your previous posts you were reliving some of your own experiences being a crazy teacher. Are you the only crazy one out there? How about telling us about some other Crazy Teachers.

Crazy Teacher’s Answer

Sure. I’d like to use this July 31st. day to honor some of the Crazy Teachers who were legendary for their mastery of that transformative tool in the teacher tool box—THE LOOK!

Helen Fastucken could get any seventh-grade boy to stop playing with his crotch. When Helen, arranged herself (with great decorum) on her chair, raised her hands as if she were beginning a piano concerto, and then returned her hands to her desk, many young hands rose from the depths, and arrived on the top of their desks.

Helen Primsly was also known for her non-verbal sign language. Hector knew when Helen scratched her nose that she observed him picking his, and, if he knew what was good for him, he should search for his boogers elsewhere, and not on school time.

Helen Fiddlowsky even while out of her classroom and riding on a New York City subway, could, with one look over her bifocals, turn known hoodlums into ladies and gentlemen who offered their seats to elderly passengers.

Helen Chan could quiet a screaming elementary cafeteria by simply raising her hand and adopting a walking dead face, but she was legendary for her mystical power to switch signals at faculty meetings. During yet another workshop on data collection, Helen (with her back to the long-winded consultant) put on her googly-eye glasses and nodded sagaciously at the faces of her red-faced, lip-biting colleagues as they struggled to maintain their decorum.

Crazy Teacher’s Tribute to a Mentor and Colleague

On this last day of July, when Crazy Teacher crawls back in her crypt, this post is written in tribute to my own Crazy Colleague and Older Friend, Helen Chanowsky. Goodness, we had some great times together!

A Letter to No-Homework-Johnny from His Teacher

This letter is dedicated to students, parents, and teachers who are on the front lines of the homework battles.

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Dear Johnny,

You don’t do my homework, but I’m not going to address that now. I prefer to consider your strengths.

I want you here. We are not in a war, and if you think we are, I surrender. Please, no battles; I want YOU to win.

Let’s build on what you do well, Johnny. Here’s what I know about you:

You’re perceptive, Johnny. You can read others. Cultivate those kids who no one else will cultivate. Find their strengths and their interests. If anybody can get to them, you can. You might be surprised to learn that one of those kids can offer something special to you too.

You need a lectern, Johnny, for that powerful voice of yours. OK, so sometimes I call it your big mouth, but when I throw out questions like, “Agree or disagree?  Andrew Jackson was a friend of Native Americans,” you love to share your thoughts, and you are a born speaker.  (Please try to wait until I call on you so that other people get a chance to think too.)

  • Using academic language will make you sound even smarter, and because you are a leader, your classmates will follow your example. I’ll show you how to back up your ideas, with true evidence. The debate team awaits you, my friend.

You have a very strong moral code, Johnny, sticking up for the underdog—even if it is against the school authority.

Others may not know this, but I know that School Johnny is very different than Home Johnny. On the block, Home Johnny helps the old people carry their packages, walks his little sister to school, and sings his heart out in the church choir.

You can make the other kids in the class laugh. Yes. I know you drive us all crazy, Johnny, but the ability to make others laugh is really a gift. I’d like to celebrate that strength with you.

Please know, Johnny, that I like to laugh too, at myself and at all the crazy stuff that goes on in our class. We teachers are human too, even though we sleep in our coffins.  A little secret—often when a kid like you is giving me a hard time, I imagine him at home in his bed, wearing his pj’s (the ones with the feet), and clutching his teddy bear, Then I smile and I keep on going.

Feel free to do the same with me, even if you need to substitute my coffin for the bed.

It is not me against you, Johnny.  We’re in this together, and I want YOU to win!

Sincerely,

Your Teacher