Shaking Up Seating

My first class of sophomores began to file into my classroom. I held my breath, not sure how they’d react to the new seating arrangement, even though they knew it was coming.

“Find your name on a table card. That’s your new seat,” I said feigning confidence that I was ready to deal with any potential fallout. This crew is a picky one. They don’t always respond well to change, and if the change feels like too much to them, revolt is always an option. I knew that even though I’d prepared for that potential, I wasn’t really prepared to handle it. I’ve been fighting off illness since the flu began its sweep through the grade level last week.

There were some grumbles. Some were in shock that the requests they made during last week’s Friday check-in were actually honored.

“She actually listened!” I heard one of the girls exclaim.

One student, however, was really upset. He turned away from his new table, wanting nothing to do with his new table mates. I made a mental note to have a chat with him, trying to figure out how to engage him before he shut down completely.

The bell rang. Our signal to be seated, silent, and reading our independent choice books. For 26 weeks, I’ve had to remind them, daily, and sometimes multiple times, that they bell is our signal to begin.

Today, that reminder never happened. It didn’t need to happen. Quiet swept the room as bodies settled, voices quieted, books opened, and pages started turning.

I took this opportunity to crouch next to my student who was still visibly upset.

“Hey, I can see that you’re not happy about your  new seat.”

“Yeah, I don’t like it very much.”

“Do you have any idea why I might have chosen this seat for you?”

“Probably because I talk all the time and don’t pay attention.” He was honest. Direct. And right on the button.

“So, how about this, give me three good days this week, and if you do, I promise I’ll honor at least one of your seating requests for next week.”

“Ok, I can do that.”

“You know that if your request doesn’t work next week, I’ll probably not honor your request for the following week, right? You have to show me that you can handle the responsibility of choice.”

“Yeah, I get it now. I’ll work on doing better.”

_____________

I had a handful of conversations like this today. Every single one of them went something like this one. They were kind, respectful, and ended on a positive note.

We changed up seating in all of my classes because it was time. We were in a funk. The energy in the room was stale. We’d fallen into some patterns that weren’t productive.

This knowledge hit me hard last week while we were struggling through sickness, fatigue, and behaviors that just weren’t helping us move forward. Rather than remembering that it was something I could fix, and rather easily, I had become complacent – not wanting to ruffle feathers or deal with potential conflict.

I was wrong.

Choice is both powerful and wonderful, but it can also be really challenging for many of our students. We should be empowering our students to make choices for themselves as often as they can, so they are used to making choices and seeing their impact or consequences. But sometimes, they’re not ready to make them.

So many of my students expressed relief that we’d changed seating. Although I let them move and self-select seating, many of them don’t. I think they get stuck in patterns just like we do, and even when they feel like they need to make a change, they worry about how that change will be perceived – by their peers, by me – and decide it’s just easier to stick with the status quo.

Today I let my students know that we’ll make both small and big changes to our home base tables on Wednesdays from now on. This will allow me to really spend some time reading and considering the requests they make as part of their weekly check-ins.

I was expecting revolt. Really, I’d created disaster conflict scenarios. Not a single one of them happened. Instead, my students worked with renewed energy. The room no longer felt stale. We all needed today’s shake-up even more than I expected.