The last
laugh: using humor to discipline a bully
By John Christian Hoyle
August 01, 2006
The Christian
Science Monitor
MOBILE, ALA.
One Tuesday morning, I opened my
classroom to find shredded paper shoved under the door. Sweeping up the
mess, I discovered that the torn strips used to be a sign that I had
posted three years before that asked my high school history students to
"Leave all excess baggage at the door."
It was my first personal effect to
be vandalized since I started teaching, though I didn't give it much
thought. I merely replaced the sign.
Wednesday: The new sign is shredded
and crammed under the door. Thursday: Third sign, same result. I didn't
bother to erect a fourth. But I did wish to know who was disrespecting
my signs.
Ask any public high school teacher:
Few things are more maddening than classroom vandalism. Yet, I had the
feeling that none of my students was involved. After all, the secret to
my teaching success was the fact that I related so well to my students.
I had a gift of forging positive relationships, and discipline problems
were things other teachers had to worry about.
During lunch duty the next week,
one of my civics students strolled over and nonchalantly narked on the
culprit. "It was Big Josh," she said with a smirk. "He trashed your
sign; I saw him. He told me not to say anything, but I hate that guy. I
hope he gets in trouble; just don't bring my name into it."
Now it all made sense. Josh, or Big
Josh as he was known, was our school's bully. He towered well over six
feet and weighed more than 300 pounds.
Although he had the means, Josh
never stole anyone's lunch money. It was far worse. He had a knack for
pinpointing a person's faults and highlighting them to the world.
Teachers dreaded him in class, and students were too scared not to be
his friend. Josh's troublemaking was typically random and because he
was intimidating, no real consequences ever followed his actions.
Strange, I never even taught the
kid. I had only heard stories of how he sabotaged Mrs. Clifton's Julius
Caesar lessons, dissolved freshmen self-esteems at lunch, and regularly
mocked the way a special needs student walked. And now I had become his
latest target. We'd never even exchanged hellos. I had to stand up to
him, because I knew my signs were only the beginning of his harassment.
I lived by three rules as a
teacher: 1) Use humor to deal with tough situations; 2) don't ever let
a student know they have gotten to you; and, 3) don't run to the vice
principal - handle your own discipline problems.
On Friday, I held the mike at an
assembly. I was hyping an upcoming basketball game. Because their
classroom is so far away, shop-class students arrive late to assemblies
and usually enter quietly from a door on the side of the gym. This day
was different. During my pep talk, in a clear effort to be disruptive,
Big Josh burst through the door like a wrecking ball. He just so
happened to be wearing a garish, red shop-class apron.
All eyes were on him. He had gotten
his laugh.
Then it happened. Without
premeditation, I yelled, "Heyyyyyyy Kool-Aid."
It was Dave Chappelle funny.
Laughter thundered through the gym. KO'd in the first round.
Immediately, Big Josh was dead, and "Kool-Aid" rose from his ashes. For
the rest of the year kids would yell, "Hey Kool-Aid" when they
encountered Josh. After the assembly, somehow students saw him as more
human, more accessible, more like everyone else.
During lunch I posted a new sign
with a slightly adjusted message: "Leave all excess baggage (and
Kool-Aid) at the door." It hung intact for the rest of the year.
• John Christian Hoyle, a National
Board Certified Teacher, lives in Mobile, Ala.