Robyn.Bowles.es

Last night I had to kick another kid out of class. Yes, another one – out of the same class. The first one to leave had been causing trouble since the first day: hitting kids, throwing things, tearing up paper. . . but the last straw was when I turned around just in time to see him spit in the face of the girl sitting behind him. Although I wanted him out of my class, what I said to him in English was that his parents would get a phone call and would be asked to take him out of class. Perhaps my pointing finger toward the door when I said that gave him the notion that he was to leave then. I certainly didn’t stop him as he got up to leave. I didn’t initiate his dismissal out of ignorance of the regulations of handling such situations. The next day I unapologetically told the coordinator the situation. After all the difficulty I’ve had to face with this language institute, I did not feel sorry for whatever money they are going to lose from this student.

Now I have to make another of those calls. It’s probably too late in the day now … 6:30 … wait, this is Spain. Shoot. Oh well, better to get it over with.

The second kid was kicked out for lesser offenses, but I was sick of putting up with him nonetheless and didn’t want to wait until he hurt or seriously disturbed another student. This kid never listens, never speaks in English, never pays attention (unless I am standing face to face with him – then he looks at me at least). He never takes any notes, tears up paper and erasers and breaks chalk to throw at others and on the floor. . . yesterday he was writing something in Spanish and drawing pictures instead of taking notes. I took his paper away and told him that in English class, we write in English. Not two minutes later, he was doing it again. I repeated the little speech.

He did finally write something in English, then gave it to the only kid in the class who actually tries to learn something. The good kid raised his hand and timidly showed me the paper that had just been thrown at him, “Julio is gay!” it read. That was it, he had wasted enough of my time and was now hurting others. On a whim I developed a “zero tolerance” policy and, after a bit of a struggle with him actually requesting to stay, I successfully escorted him out of the room.

Maybe it was too much, but these kids are incredibly disrespectful, and if he is not going to learn English, then maybe he’ll learn something about respect?

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