Let’s play a game. I’ll give you some scenarios, and you decide which ones deserve to be punished with a suspension.
a. A girl threatens to kick her pregnant teacher in the stomach after being reprimanded for being disruptive in class.
b. Two boys are found in possession of marijuana, after having smoked it in a school bathroom.
c. A girl shoves the teacher as she exits the classroom after knocking over shelves and smashing the class phone, because she is angry about a low test score.
d. A boy sticks a sewing needle that he found into a teacher’s arm. He says he meant it as a joke, and throws the sewing needle out the window.
These are four different situations, and very different children were involved in them. What they have in common is that none of them qualified for a suspension, and all of the children broke the rules again in a short period of time.
As a middle-school teacher, I look at the kids in these situations and, after reminding myself that they are children, not adults, try to figure out what is the best way to handle them.
Suspensions make sense in a lot of ways. A suspension is a very clear, tangible form of punishment that is visible not only to the student being punished, but also to the others in the school who are watching to see what happens when someone does something wrong.
Suspensions don’t, of course, transform a child, as numerous studies have shown. Just as the kids in the scenarios above were repeat offenders, so are many students recipients of serial suspensions.
So if a suspension doesn’t seem to make any real difference in whether or not a child misbehaves again, how do we stop their misbehavior cycle?
What makes teaching so challenging is attempting to look at the big picture and the little picture at the same time, without prioritizing one over the other. What’s best for the class is not always what’s best for a child.
When there is a child in class who is a serious behavior problem, suspending that student can seem like a great solution. It sends a clear message to all of the kids in the class (close observers of one another's behaviors) that the behavior will not be tolerated.
It also eliminates the behavior problem, and allows the rest of the class to continue their work uninterrupted.
However, a suspension always ends, and the student comes back, worse for the wear. The time out of class causes students to slip behind, and when they return they are discouraged and feel hopeless academically.
Socially, they return with something to prove. Circles close quickly in middle school, and they seem to feel that their place has been filled. It’s not uncommon for these feelings to lead to some sort of acting out.
This is bad for the student, and it’s bad for the class. But what is the alternative?
When a student isn’t granted a suspension for an offense that feels grave, teachers are left feeling helpless. The student is back in class the next day, perhaps a little bit smug about what they got away with, and afforded a new level of respect from their peers. Their proud whispers float around the classroom and haunt the teachers.
“Yeah, no big deal, we just smoked a little.”
“Yo -- I pushed that lady and she couldn’t do a thing!”
There is some talk of getting creative -- taking away things that the students care about, or dangling incentives in front of them. A punishment in my class can simply mean a seat change to a less desirable part of the classroom. Others have suggested punishments such as helping to clean up the cafeteria or work in the office after school.
My middle school has brought in Turnaround for Children, and a litany of other professionals, to address the problems in the building. We have a gang counselor, a drug and alcohol counselor, an in-house social worker and social work interns, as well as guidance counselors, deans and others.
We have a referral process that is designed to appropriately serve and create interventions for at-risk kids.
Does it work? It’s too early to say. Certainly it’s nice to have a solution to offer when I see a problem.
As these interventions take place, the student continues to misbehave, to disrupt, to act out toward their peers and adults. They continue to make it a challenge for teachers to teach, and students to learn.
It’s a step in a new direction -- possibly even the right direction. But the truth is that the steps are taken in the dark, and it’s hard to see progress.
Kids are terribly complex, and their problems are as well. The solutions probably are not going to be clear cut, and the results won’t ever be immediate. There is no miracle drug that creates inner peace and eliminates a child’s need to act out.
There is one part of the disciplinary process that makes sense to me. When we write up a child, we have to describe his or her behavior. We have to categorize the offense as major or minor. Then, most important, we have to signal what we think motivated the behavior. Those options include "avoid a task," "seek attention from peers," "seek attention from adults," etc.
This is important because when I write a student up, I’m not usually feeling too contemplative. Usually I’m feeling frustrated and angry and exhausted by their behavior. Being forced to pause and consider the motivation means that I stop thinking of the behavior, and think instead about the child.
Punishments address behaviors. But an adequate response is one that addresses the child. It would be great if it were neat and tidy, the way I want it to be. But it’s not -- and just as the motivations for the behavior can be complex, so too should be the way that we respond.