dara ware

Years ago, I had the unfortunate task of trying to teach a math class that simply could not stop talking. It didn’t matter if I was facing the dry erase board or the students themselves; if I said something, they said something, if I said something else, they said something else. All. period. long. Every. single. day. Threats of trips to the principal didn’t matter. Letters home didn’t matter. And these kids liked me too! Didn’t matter. The chatter continued incessantly. One day, in a fit of frustration and dread as I was about to launch into another problem at the board, I blurted out, “Okay, nobody talks this time - 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘮𝘦!” And shockingly, as I worked my way through the problem, no one did. And even more shockingly, when I asked them how I had just 𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘥 the problem, most of their hands shot into the air. Thinking this may have just been a fluke, I launched into another problem the same way. Same result. Another problem. Same result. For the first time all year, we got through a whole class period without me wanting to pull my rapidly graying hair out in clumps the entire time. Then came the biggest shock of all: when the students filtered into class the next day, they immediately asked, “Can you do that silent thing again today?” I had discovered 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨, which I subsequently learned is an actual thing. Naturally, I used this strategy with all of my classes for the rest of that year. And I was literally astounded by the results - students now focused on the content and asked meaningful questions, and I was able to cover way more content, and maintain my personal sanity to boot. Since that time, I’ve reflected on what makes this strategy so successful. My thoughts follow… 1/8