Too Much Time on Their Hands

It was Friday. Summer school. Modern world history. They were to finish all chapter five work. According to them, they were all done. So, they found ways to "entertain" themselves.

Inappropriate ways...

To be fair, it was only eight of them. In a class of thirty. Everyone else either worked or found something quiet to do.

At this point in the summer school (the end of the fourth week), they should be fairly used to the routine, and if they knew they'd have time, they should have brought something else to do.

But, once I got through roll (which was a challenge in and of itself), the eight of them went into play mode. I already told you about the hair clippers. And I had the usual problems of students who would not stay seated. (That is, the boy decided it would be a good idea to amble about the classroom--at least until I put a stop to that.)

One boy left to use the restroom. The others hid his backpack. (I kept an eye on them. I was expecting them to flip it.)

A couple of them got way too interested in the wall behind them. Vandalism? They found a tack. The tack now resides on the teacher's desk.

Someone was playing with a condom. At least this one remained in its wrapper. Still, they were grossed out by it, so I put it in the trash.

When they finally settled in to watch something on their phones, they couldn't just sit still. No. Everyone had to watch the same video on one phone, crowding around it. (If they're done, I don't mind them being on their phones. It mellows them out. Until they're all sharing whatever one is doing.)

I was so glad to see the end of those two hours.

As they were leaving, three girls (not of the party of eight) were a little slower getting out of the room. So, I asked them if that group was misbehaving especially for me. I was told that the group did goof off when Mr. B was there, but they were a little quieter for him.

Ah well. I wonder if they're actually passing the class this time around.