Dance-Off
Today I was in the zone. I was at the whiteboard doing my thing, wishing that the first-year teacher who had voluntarily come to observe me in all of my teaching brilliance just a few moments prior hadn’t had to leave for a meeting with another teacher. I was giving notes over collective and abstract nouns, having my 8 th grade students shout examples out to me while I wrote them on the board. Contrails of sparkles followed my dry erase marker through the air before dissipating in front of our awestruck eyes. (That last part might have only occurred in my own head.) It was magical. Suddenly, I noticed movement out of the corner of my eye. I paused and turned toward the back of the room. “What are you guys doing?” I asked. Two 8 th grade boys—best friends; one blonde, one brunette, both the smirking type—stared back at me from their desks, blinking. Although I knew better, I repeated the question. “What are you guys doing?” The boys in thi...