stand at the door
Happy morning, students!
check their uniforms
Take off that necklace, please!
No labels on socks; that’s a citation.
the bell rings
lock the door behind you
“Can I charge my ChromeBook?”
You mean, may I charge my ChromeBook? Yes, you may.
“Can I take my doctor’s excuse to the office?
Ummmm, number one–you should have done that before the bell rang. Number two–did you not just hear me say it’s “may” not “can”? Sign out. And somebody go lock the door.
go answer the door and lock it behind you
continue reading announcements
stop what you’re doing and answer the door and lock it behind you
go over the objective
overhead intercom interrupts–“Can you send So-and-so to the office?”
So-and-so, stop what you’re doing, sign out, and go to the office. And somebody please go lock the door behind her.
model your thinking
Somebody, stop what you’re doing and go answer the door. And don’t forget to lock it.
students work on group work
take a student’s ChromeBook because he’s playing games
admonish another for for using hers as a mirror
“Hey, my ChromeBook’s frozen!“
And? That’s a statement. If you want help, please ask a question.
“Can I go to the library to get my ChromeBook fixed?”
Did you try to trouble shoot? Did you turn it off and back on?
continue to monitor the students
“It still won’t work.”
Take it down to the library. Sign out.
stop what you’re doing and lock the door
they’re finally working
sit down at your desk
check your email
check exit tickets
check your coffee breath
pop a mint
field questions from your desk
decide that’s useless
make them laugh
get them back on task
This is ridiculous. said under your breath
stop what you’re doing and answer the door
“You look mad. Can I tell you a joke?”
ignore the remark
forget what you’re doing and what day it is and your middle name
take a deep breath to recenter yourself
hold a discussion
overhead intercom interrupts–“Lock down! Lock down! This is a lock down! Active shooter! Active shooter!”
Students, get in the corner. Be quiet.
check the blinds to make sure they’re drawn and swipe your phone and your laptop from your desk and turn off the lights and open the cabinet door to block the view from the classroom door and huddle on the floor next to your students and send an everyone’s-accounted-for email
shush the children
Moment of Clarity.
The. Door. Isn’t. Locked.
Crawl on the floor.
Cold lock in your sweaty fingers.
Twist it as as someone pounds on the door.
Look up. See a cop.
His glare, a condescending reprimand.
Because even though you stopped what you were doing, you forgot to lock the door.
The overhead intercom interrupts–“All clear. All clear. It was only a drill.”
but you know that the only thing that’s clear is the drill of your beating heart and your lesson is ruined and you’re close to tears because the only thing that’s important anymore is having your door locked