When Students 'Cross the Line'

By Cindy Reitzi

May 2003

“You’re working on my last nerve.”-- an almost spent teacher

In May, as the accumulation of hard-won wisdom and weary irritation coincide, it’s important for teachers to know where their “lines” are. “Crossing the line” and challenging authority are time-honored sports among select teens that can intensify at different times of the year. For me, my line is not usually about verbal challenges or even big issues; it’s the repetitive, habitual things, like students who don’t bring pencils every day. I knew a student who brought his brush every day but almost never a writing utensil.

These are the things that are like mosquito bites, irritating at first, but then building to a point where you grind your teeth and want to buy a can of Raid. So, how do you know when someone has crossed your line? When it feels personal.

Sometimes this irksomeness can differ by gender. For example, when girls choose to make trouble, they can have a knack for reading just where your invisible line of patience is – the line between teacher annoyance and a phone call home. These girls know just how to edge up or dip one manicured toe over that line. And if girls choose to make big trouble (e.g. fights) they don’t tend to respond to any invisible hierarchy the school system or society have devised. For them, it’s…personal.

Certain boys, on the other hand, stomp right across the line – in open line of fire. In that respect, they may be easier to deal with because they’re more obvious. Many boys also have social interactions that are fairly consistent and acknowledge hierarchies. (If you can show you’re “top dog” in a fair way there’s usually no more trouble). While both boys and girls want to know who’s in charge, some boys really need to know and hence, engage in teacher baiting. This can be humorous verbal sparring or an authority challenge. Either way, it often takes on a predictable pattern:

1. Student incites challenge.
   
2. Teacher responds.
   
3. Third-party interloper responds (directed at inciting student).
   
4. All parties go back to their corners.
   

I once had a very nice student (let’s call him Ruben) in my English class who was one of those does-nothing-but-otherwise-is-a-pleasure-to-have-in-class students. One day, Ruben started to tease me. Apparently meaning this as a compliment, he said:

“Ms. Reitzi, you don’t act like a teacher.”

“That’s OK,” I retorted, “you don’t act like a student.”

“Dude, she got YOU!” said one boy. “Whoa, you asked for that one!” said another.

“Oh, man,” sighed Ruben, retreating to his desk, smiling.

These sorts of humorous volleys don’t bother me. We chuckle, and then settle in to the business of teaching and learning. But when the challenge is to me as a Female Authority Figure, well, then it’s…personal.

I was subbing an advanced math class, and the students were working with lines and graphs. They were a younger, restless group that wouldn’t stop talking, and I ended up raising my voice to get them to settle down. To make matters worse, a smarmy boy in the second row smirked, “You need a MAN to keep order in here,” demonstrating the boy-just-asking-to-know-who’s-in-charge challenge.

Anyone who knows me knows that this was the WRONG thing to say. I’ve told friends this story and they looked at me like, “So, did you let him live?” Now, I’m not above using sarcasm, but I’m careful to contain it to about one line max. Most times that’s enough to make my point but not leave scars.

I was standing, he was sitting in a one-down position at a 45-degree angle; I was positioned correctly. I eyed him like a lab rat ready for dissection. I gave him my best “clearly-you-don’t-know-who-I-am” cocked eyebrow look, then said, crisply enunciating the t’s:

“Lit-tle boy … I do NOT need a man to keep order in here.”
He flushed to the roots of his blond hair and squeaked, “I’m not a little boy” in a little boy voice. At that point, the third-party interloper kicked in. A male classmate in the back of the room loudly announced, “Hey, she called you a ‘little boy’! I like this sub!” exacerbating his embarrassment.

At this point I was on a precarious line as an authority figure between “making my point” and becoming a verbal bully with an already disarmed person. I wanted to issue a warning growl, not to take off his leg. So I backed off. Immediately.

The student retained a blush pink, but was helpful for the rest of the hour. I didn’t mention it in the note to the math teacher, but I knew that the next day if he asked, “how did it go with the sub?” the poor student was going to have to relive his embarrassment, with the wag in the back of the room reminding him. So I didn’t rub it in any further.

Lines are a complex abstract, not just in math. But most people seem to understand what “crossing the line” means. It’s like lines in the middle of the road; you need to know where the line is, so you’re not driving on the wrong side.

Posted May 14, 2003