By Amelia Weber

Amelia Weber is vocal director at Platteville High School. She began her teaching career in September of 2004.

On every classroom wall in America, one will undoubtedly find the mechanical contraption that takes over our lives from the moment we say "Good morning, class." Ticking away, it dictates our every move from the first day to retirement. It may look innocent, but round or square, an ordinary classroom clock can prove as daunting to a young educator as teaching during homecoming week.

We are taught that time management is a large part of classroom management, and that being a good teacher means being one with the clock.

During student teaching, my cooperating teacher encouraged me to keep careful track of time, and I remember scrawling each rehearsal time on a sticky note. He instructed me to begin rehearsal right after the bell and to always allow one minute of cleanup time before the final bell. In spite of these times never being more than two feet from my face, I always felt like that clock fooled me, speeding up or stopping at will. If we were repeating individual German syllables for a Brahms piece, the clock moved like molasses. In the midst of an amazing musical moment, the bell, which is not in tune with a single piece of music on Earth, would ring, interrupting our magic.

Initially, my battle with time was discouraging. I often found myself completing only part of my rehearsal plan, and playing "catch-up" during each rehearsal that followed. I felt I had tried everything: talking faster, looking at the clock more often, and even frantically skipping ahead in my lesson plans; all to no avail. The constraint of time was taking the enjoyment out of my teaching, and I did not know how to regroup.

Then one fateful day, the normally functional clock in my classroom went crazy. It stopped at half past the hour, and did not budge until the hour, when it would zoom its way through 30 minutes in a matter of seconds. The choir and I stared with amazement as the minute hand flew, and we all laughed. From that point on, my attitude about the use of time in my classroom changed, and I felt liberated from that insistent clock.

After this liberation, I devised what I call a "thirds" lesson plan, which requires me to prioritize tasks for the time allotted rather than cramming all of my tasks into a given time. My daily lesson plan has three sections. The first "third" consists of a task that has the highest priority, and must be accomplished in today's lesson. The second "third" is the next priority, and is what I would expect to accomplish on an average and productive day. The final "third" is a high priority for the next lesson but could be completed today for an extremely productive lesson if there is extra time and students are on a roll.

By using this method, a young teacher can feel accomplishment every day no matter what time and classroom atmosphere allow. It also allows a teacher to easily quantify the productivity of a classroom. Most days are "two thirds" days, a few are "one third" days, and a few are "three thirds" days.

It is important to remember that accomplishing fewer tasks on your lesson plan does not necessarily mean less learning in your classroom! The pressure of time hanging over my head used to prevent me from listening, observing, and letting the students dictate the pace of the rehearsal. I now realize that a "one third" day can result from an intuitive question that sparks discussion, elaboration, and deep understanding, and is therefore as valuable as quickly moving through tasks.

When my attitude about time became more relaxed, my students followed suit, and we all stopped letting the clock cause us stress. I took my new attitude about time even further the summer after my first year of teaching, and stopped wearing my wristwatch. I found that I was still very aware of the time, but that I did not let it govern every activity.

With my second year under way, my watch feels a bit strange on my wrist, but I do not feel trapped by its ticking hands. I learned that time can trick, trap, and overwhelm young teachers, but we cannot let it prevent us from taking our time to observe, nurture, and teach. To this day, the choir room clock continues to stop at half past and later zoom to the hour. Some of my students say I should ask a custodian to fix it, but I know that I never will. I wouldn't have it any other way. For the time being, as the Rolling Stones so eloquently put it, "Time is on my side - yes it is!"

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Posted October 26, 2005