In my weaker moments, I can cop a bit of a temper. When the collective work ethic of a classroom dwindles, my blood doesn't exactly boil, but it does simmer. The students know this; they've heard me pontificate countless times (think a variation on Jerry Maguire's "Help me, help you!" but more angry) and are singularly unimpressed.
Anyway, I've tried to work on ways to counteract my temper--generally through nervous tics like clapping my hands together, cracking my knuckles, scratching my head, or blinking my eyes--in an effort to stave off yelling and, as an added bonus, cultivate OCD tendencies.
Today I asked my class to write a paragraph on Julius Caesar, and, save for one blessed student, they continued talking and kept the pencils on the desks. I went to my arsenal of tics.
The Blessed Student: "Uh oh, he's blinking again!"
They've caught on even to this. Students are universally more perceptive than you think.
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