Who Owns the Problem?

This is good article from Robert Harrell on classroom discipline and a reflection on what it means to act like an adult in a school so that students can have real adults around them and not teachers trying to be their friends:
Hi Ben,
As part of obtaining my credential in California, I was required to take several classes in methods, classroom management, etc. One of the most valuable of those classes was taught by “Buck” Marrs, and one of the most valuable parts of that class was the unit on “Who owns the problem?”
Imagine, you are teaching a class, and during your presentation of Comprehensible Input, Chatty Cathy and Gabby Gail are merrily gossiping about last Friday’s dance, their current boyfriends and going to the mall after school. The sheer rudeness of this puts you over the edge, and you explode. The girls look properly chagrined and say, “Sorry.” But the next day it happens all over again. Whose problem is this? Who owns the problem?
You the teacher own the problem, because you are the one who is bothered. Cathy and Gail have no issue because they get to do what they love to do: chat with one another in your class. Do they truly care that they are not learning your beloved language? Probably not; they are teenagers and fully into immediate gratification, which their talking gives them. It requires maturity and depth that they don’t have to realize the value of what they are receiving in your class. But they have no problem: life can continue this way indefinitely as far as they are concerned; your eruptions are at most minor irritants worth it for being able to continue – they may actually find your fulminations at least slightly amusing. (Some students deliberately provoke teachers to see the impotent fireworks.)
Now imagine that you gave your students an assignment. Joe Cool comes into class without the assignment because he hasn’t done it. He has a problem, because he knows that this may take his grade down to the point that he becomes ineligible for the one thing he likes in school: the sports team. What does he do? He comes to you and “explains” that his printer wasn’t working; he didn’t really understand the assignment because *you* didn’t give him really good directions; there should have been more class time to work on this; the assignment wasn’t fair; will you accept the work late? You, being the kind-hearted soul that you are, take pity on Joe Cool and allow him to turn the assignment in late. When it does come in, you read it and find it pretty shoddy, but you search diligently for something – anything – that will allow you to give him a better grade. After all, Joe’s parents called and said that the teacher’s at Joe’s previous school had cared enough about students to work with them and understood that sometimes things beyond their control happen. And Joe really needs to be able to play on the team, and you don’t want to be the one to keep him from that, do you?
What happened here? Joe Cool just managed to turn his problem into your problem. You took possession of it, and now you own the problem, not Joe. He’s off the hook – again.
Now let’s go back to Cathy and Gail. You as the teacher must turn the talking issue into their problem. Make them own the problem. This is what jGR does in spades. It turns those habits of inattention, considering private gossip as more important than the classroom conversation and lack of interpersonal communication into the students’ problem, not yours. Once they own the problem, they will try everything they can to make it your problem again. Don’t let them. Be as sympathetic as you wish, but don’t back down from applying the rubric. As Ben has said repeatedly, marshal those troops of ACTFL Guidelines, 90%, Three Modes, etc.; go over the requirements of the class; give the girls hope that improved performance will result in an improved grade. But don’t cave. If they become belligerent (which they very well might because they are not used to not having their own way), withdraw from engagement. How? Let’s go back to Joe Cool.
When Joe Cool comes in with his “sob story”, you should realize he will do or say nearly anything to turn his problem into your problem. Don’t let him. How? Don’t engage. The conversation goes like this:

  • Joe: I don’t have my paper because my printer broke.
  • You: Bummer.
  • Joe: Really. I couldn’t print it out.
  • You: Bummer.
  • Joe: I didn’t understand what to do.
  • You: Bummer. You could have asked.
  • Joe: But I had sports after school.
  • You: Bummer.
  • Joe: I didn’t have time.
  • You: Bummer.
  • Joe: You’re not being fair!
  • You: Real bummer.

I think you get the idea. When the girls try to attack your class, your teaching, anything except their performance, you go to “bummer” mode. They know what they need to do, they just don’t want to do it and are unused to being required to do so.
We can probably discuss the ins and outs of this for a long time, but I think it is important for us as teachers to recognize who owns the problem and act accordingly.
Robert