Silence is Golden · Mon Apr 17, 19:02 by Eleri Straker
Over the years I’ve realised that one person’s voice has a bit of difficulty being heard over twenty-seven others. Might seem a bit obvious that. But it’s amazing how many in other ways, intelligent people believe that this isn’t so. Nowhere is this more apparent than in the classroom.
Many is the time I’ve sat, in my capacity as a supporting teacher, at the back of a classroom, watching, as another teacher carries on teaching, despite the fairly obvious fact that no one, apart from me, is actually listening.
It’s a curious phenomenon. It’s almost as if these teachers believe that if they carry on teaching, the information will somehow appear in their students’ brains without the said students actually putting their brains into gear.
I think it comes back to that strange, but not uncommon practice of teaching one’s subject, rather than the children.
When I teach, I do so to a comparatively silent class. This is not because I’m particularly draconian, quite the opposite in fact, but because I see no point in teaching if no one is listening. I refuse to teach if I have to compete with other people. What’s the point of wasting my pearls of wisdom if my class is busy discussing last night’s television or tonight’s date?
So I wait.
I begin my lesson and if anyone begins to talk, I stop. And stare at the offender. Eventually they get the message, shut up and I continue, frequently without commenting on the interruption. It’s amazing how quickly a class will get used to that technique. Within weeks, if not days, even the most awkward class realises that I will not continue with the lesson until I get the attention I require. And worse, if I have to wait too long, I am quite happy to keep the offending class in detention for as long as my mood dictates.
It’s actually a nerve-wracking technique. The first time I tried it, it felt that I’d waited for ages before I got the silence I wanted. (It actually wasn’t forever, it just felt like it!) The next time, it was a bit easier and the next time, easier still. I now find that I can simply stand in the doorway of a classroom and wait. (This is particularly effective with a class who know me only by reputation as “that weird English teacher”, as they don’t know what I’m going to do.)
With a particularly awkward group, I’ve been known to sit down, put my pink Doc Marten- booted feet on the desk, put my arms behind my head and start to whistle. The effect is quite startling and the reaction fairly immediate. Within seconds, the hissed “Shh! She’s waiting!” susurrates around the room followed swiftly by the desired silence. This isn’t magic. It’s perseverance (and in my case perversity!) It’s a matter of keeping one’s nerve. After all, there’s almost thirty of them and only one of me! What makes me keep doing it this way is the simple fact that my voice (despite projection techniques perfected by years of singing in a Welsh school choir!) simply isn’t powerful enough to drown out those of a large number of vocal teenagers. So I don’t bother.
I know that what I have to say in my lessons is actually (usually) worth hearing and could be of use to my students, so I always wait until I can be heard. After all, what’s the use of having all this wonderful knowledge if no one can hear you?
Also, silence is a wonderful thing and when I’ve managed to deliver my pearls to my silent class, it really is golden.
