Just a Few More Minutes

Integrated math 1 (what used to be algebra) for eighth graders. (They expect them to take this class in ninth grade, so these are the advanced math kiddos.) They were solving systems of equations.

After I got class started, I noticed a bunch of yellow passes on their desks. That's when I remembered something that had happened on Wednesday, the last time I had been on this campus.

A stack of yellow passes had been delivered during second period. The co-teacher was the one to receive them, so she passed them out. One of the recipients happened to be absent, so I had a chance to look at it.

They were perfect attendance awards. As a reward, the kiddos were to be released ten minutes early from second period on Friday.

So, there would be a few dismissed early from the group in front of me. I was glad I had seen the pass on Wednesday or I would have been completely blindsided.

At the appointed time, I dismissed the pass holders.

"I need a couple more minutes."

Nine of the pass holders left. But the tenth was still working on the assignment.

It was one of those assignments where whatever they hadn't completed in class became homework. So there was no penalty for not finishing. The students could just go.

But the boy wanted to finish before he left.

This is unusual. Most of the time, when an assignment can be completed for homework, I struggle to keep them on task. They'd rather play in class and "do it for homework".

The early dismissal was a reward. I'm not going to "enforce" a reward.

The boy spent about five more minutes working quickly. Then he packed up and left.

See, some of them do truly care about their work. Not all of them are slackers. (It's just that the slackers make much better stories.)

The Balloons

They delivered them while I gave period one my opening remarks. A bunch of helium-filled blue balloons. I was covering an 8th grade science class. And all of their eyes went wide.

"What are the balloons for?"

I tied the bunch to the back of a chair. No way was I going to deal with those yet. Experience has taught me to pass those sorts of things out at the end of the period.

Still, periodically, someone would ask, "What are the balloons for?" And I would reply, "We'll get to them at the end of the period."

The balloons were a reward for the kiddos who had done well on the state testing last spring. The awarding of the balloons turned into a nice little ceremony.

I read the explanation of what the balloons were for. Then I called names. Each student came up to retrieve their balloon. The class applauded each recipient. It went very smoothly.

And then the bell rang.

Passing period. A student returned. "Howard knocked Amber's balloon out of her hand, and it flew away."

And so it began.

Second period the balloons were everywhere. A couple came loose from their strings. I retrieved one from the ceiling. (I was tall enough to reach. The student was grateful.)

Fourth period a couple girls came up with a game. Balloons mysteriously floated to the ceiling. The girls were cutting their classmates' balloons loose. (They did not have balloons of their own. And Andie was in that group.)

By sixth period, there were far fewer balloons. One boy walked into class with his balloon's remnant. Tied to a string was the bottom of a popped balloon. It looked rather sad as he tossed it over his shoulder as if it might fly again.

Yeah, that went about how I expected it would. Talk about an ephemeral reward!