The Student From Hell
by Dale Gustafson
Regardless of their age group or background, in almost every class there
is a student that wants to be the center of attention.
"Every class has its anchor," is a common slogan among training
professionals. Normally this type
of person is only mildly disruptive to the class as a whole.
Most adults get the message when you say something like "We need to
get back on track if we expect to get out of here on time."
Peer pressure usually takes care of the problem if the student continues
to delay the class.
When working with problem teen-agers, (or adults that are still mentally
teen-agers) you need to go straight for the jugular.
A quick slash with my rapier like wit will usually embarrass a
self-centered youth into complete submission.
Until recently, I thought I had tamed the most unruly of classes and
students. Everything from
maintenance workers about to be laid off, to High School Students in a special
program for problem teens. I had
overcome everything from off the subject questions to loudly snoring students.
In spite of it all, they all seemed to have learned something...
Until I met Robert.
My only excuse is that I was blind-sided.
Robert looked like your typical professional "clerk."
He was well dressed and was attending the class with his girl friend from
another department in the company. He
seemed to conduct himself before the class like any typical student.
But unlike the others, he was not there to learn, he was there because he
wanted to be the center of attention. Apparently
the classroom was his favorite forum.
I should have caught on early because the warning signs were there.
A few minutes before the class, two students apologized for not being
able to attend the class. I found out later that they were both from Robert's
department and had been subjected to his classroom antics before.
Like with most adult classes, we started with a little introduction
exercise where each student would stand up and talk about themselves, their job
and what they were expecting to get from the class.
It's a part of making everyone comfortable with the group. I ask them questions, encourage other people to make comments
and try to get everyone to loosen up. I
wasn't actually surprised when Robert spoke up with a wise-cracking joke about
one of the other students. I
assumed he was known by everyone and well liked.
But I was wrong about part of my assumption.
Before we could get around the room with introductions, Robert was
already trying to assume my role as the "leader" in the class.
When it came to Robert's turn it was like someone turned on a tape
recorder. It was obvious that he
had rehearsed his "Who am I" speech hundreds, if not thousands of
times until he had it just the way he wanted to present it.
I was struck dumb. His
personal biography must have gone on for ten minutes before I stopped him and
pushed on to the next student. And
even then, he would speak out of turn when someone else was trying to talk.
The battle lines had been drawn, and it was necessary to fire my first
salvo at the class -- "We'll have to keep on track if we expect to get out
of here on time," I said in my best authoritarian voice. Every student in the class scowled at Robert, and there was
even some discontented mumbling from the back of the class.
"That should shut him up," I figured.
But before I could turn on the overhead projector, Robert was again
talking about himself and how he knew the answer to all the company's problems.
This peer pressure had no effect on him, in fact he seemed to enjoy it.
In my second attack, I simply started my instruction and ignored the
pip-squeak. In a few seconds he was
quiet, but I knew he was ready to pounce again at the first sign of weakness.
Soon it was time for the first class participation exercise. I told the class what page of the work book the exercise was
on and started to explain how to do the work when I noticed that Robert was
already scurrying ahead and writing down the answers in his book.
I knew his answers would be wrong and I ceased the opportunity to deflate
this guys ego by making a fool out of him in front of the class.
"Let me use your answers as an example," I asked Robert as I
leaned across the table and picked up his book.
Robert gleamed with pride as I held up his book for the entire class to
see.
"Every one of these answers is wrong," I said, as I glanced
over to see the expression change on Robert's face.
The class roared with laughter, but the expression on Robert's face
remained the same. He actually
enjoyed being the butt of a joke and the laughing stock of the class. It was then that I realized that it didn't matter what type
of attention Robert got, Robert just enjoyed getting the attention.
Rather than ejecting Robert from the class, I tried desperately to keep
him under control. The end result
was that the whole class suffered.
The PACE classes are "Socratic" and "learn by doing."
This makes them excellent learning environments for students who want to
learn. But when you have someone
like Robert in the class, the rest of the students are deprived of this positive
learning experience. Sometimes
you have to face the fact that if a student is not there to learn, they
should not be there at all.
The loss of one student may be a loss of revenue, but when one student is
disruptive to the rest of the class, you are in danger of losing all of them.
When this class started, I had 28 students.
I lost two the first day before the class even started, and four more
dropped after the first class. By
the fourth session, we were down to 12 students.
In the class reviews from the students, I received good marks and
comments like "He's very patient," and
"The Instructor showed great restraint."
The course as a whole received the lowest marks I had ever seen.
The most critical review came from Robert himself.
He claimed that he had learned nothing at all in the class.
I'm sure he was right.
|
