Not Seeking Help

Wednesday. Seventh grade English, special ed. 

A couple of the students had to finish their district writing assessment. The rest had a grammar packet to work on. 

I had been warned that the class could be "chatty". Most days that's not a big deal, but the students who still had to finish their writing assessment needed a quiet room. Luckily, I had an instructional aide who knew the kiddos and was able to call them out when they wouldn't settle. 

But seventh graders. 

Mostly the room was calm. But then Dante started talking to his neighbor Garfield. Not loudly, but it was distracting enough. So, I meandered over there. 

I stood between Dante and Garfield. Hovering. Dante looked up at me. And asked me a question. About the assignment. He was stuck. 

Okay, then. That's something I can help with. 

I answered Dante's question. I helped him enough so that he could continue on with the assignment. I went back to the teacher's desk. 

A few minutes later Dante's talking again. Again, I meandered over. And again, it turned out that Dante was stuck. 

By the third time I asked Dante why he didn't just raise his hand to ask for help, rather than turning to his neighbor. (They were not discussing the assignment. The energy of the conversation was playing, not academic.) Dante replied that he thought that if he contemplated the question enough, he could figure it out. 

Well, clearly not. Clearly when he got stuck, he distracted himself with talking to his neighbor. 

This is not unusual. Nowadays, kiddos rarely raise their hands. They rarely ask for help. Unless I'm standing there. If I'm in front of them, they'll take that opportunity to ask a question. But they won't seek me out if they're stuck. They'll stay stuck. 

I'm not sure why this is. But it's something I can work with.