A lesson/test in patience

Here we go. To anyone who might have told me at some point in life that I do not have any patience... chew on this.

The bell rings for a late afternoon class and 30+ students meander in the room in search for their seats. I take attendance and am ready to teach the same lesson I have taught multiple times already in the day.
(Side note: for those who are not teachers. Imagine this: You are at your desk and eagerly working on an important and difficult report for your boss. It takes about 50 minutes to complete. Just as you sit back to admire your work, your computer crashes. You now need to re- do the entire report AGAIN.
AND, with just as much enthusiasm as the first time. - ok, now do this 6 times in a row. You might be asking, "why, why would I do that?" Have you come up with the connection yet? Let me break it down for you. The computer crashing is symbolic to a bell ringing. Teachers are Pavlov's dog and we are conditioned to bells. )

Back to class... I ask 30 students to be quiet as I have passed out a paper, and I am explaining the agenda for today's class. 29 students are quiet, but Alex is talking. I say, "Alex, please be quiet." I wait as Alex has now taken another student's paper and has thrown it to the floor. An action which he finds hilarious and is now laughing.

Am I teaching 3rd grade? Breathe. No, this is high school. Ok.

"Alex, pick up Lauren's paper off the floor, and listen to my instructions." At this point Alex wants to tell me about the wind that came into the room (my windowless classroom) and blew the paper off the desk.

Boiling point on a slow rise. I take a long blink of my eyes- perhaps I am hoping when I open them Alex will have disappeared. Nope.

I continue the lesson on our novel and repeat instructions for Alex. In the next 5 minutes of class I have to stop for Alex's antics twice. He has turned in his seat to talk to the boy behind him. And he has gotten out of his seat to walk aimless laps in the classroom. I try classroom management of close proximity and I am standing so close to him, that I dare him to move.

Boiling point has risen up from stomach to neck. Only 30 more minutes of this class. Calm Down. This is no big deal.

After 2 minutes of that, I am able to continue walking around the room to monitor student work. As I am about the start my discussion, I know that I need class control -especially of Alex- so I give explicit instructions to, "raise your hand and tell me..."

This works. Yes, this is working. All students are participating, and following the rule to raise their hand. Yes! Victory! Boiling point on the decline.

Thump! Thump! I look over, and you guessed it...Alex. Alex is raising his hand while simultaneously jumping out of his seat to his feet and repeating this motion over and over.
"Alex, what are you doing?" I demand.
"I am having a 'raising your hand contest'" he states in a matter-of-fact tone. The class erupts into laughter.

Alert! Alert! Boiling point is too high. Red Alert! Red Alert! Something is coming over me...

I snap with sarcasm. "Well, I am having a 'giving out detention contest. And you're winning!" I say with pleasure.

Alex sits still. Hand still raised. The rest of the class 'ooohhhh's and aaahhh's'.

I wait for a few more students to answer questions before politely calling on Alex. After all, he has now learned the proper way to behave, and I must reward his good behavior by acknowledging his newly acquired good manners.

So, moral of the story. Do I have patience? Yes. Is it tested at times? For sure! And, although many will tell me there is no room for sarcasm in the classroom, I say to them...why not? Sometime I have to dish out what is deserved. In some moments that is knowledge and wisdom, at others it is a dose of reality.