FRICTION

Scientifically speaking, friction can be a very useful force. It enables you to walk down the sidewalk without falling on your butt or sliding out into the stree. And on the street, it keeps the tires of passing cars responsive to the turning of the steering wheel and, thus, off the sidewalk. It is what enables a rock climber to defy the forces of gravity and a parachute to slow the descent of a skydiver. Ironically, without friction, our lives would be at a standstill. We couldn't go anywhere. 

The same force that enables motion in proper amounts, though, is also what opposes it, limits it, even brings it to a complete stop. When there's too much friction, that piece of furniture will not budge and that engine will lock up. When friction wins, things stop moving altogether.

I have begun seeing the misbehavior of certain of my students throughout the school day as a type of friction. A little bit of friction is not necessarily a bad thing. It can actually make the classroom more interesting, even for me up front. 

But too much friction and the lesson begins to crawl, then stall out, and sometimes even come to a complete halt. 

Some periods, some days, I feel like I am swimming up stream. And it is exhausting. 

And the students who are acting up are blissfully unaware of the damage they are doing to the learning environment.

Tomorrow begins our final week of class for this school year. I love my students, but I cannot say I am sorry to see this week arrive.

Maybe over the summer I can devote some thought and prayer to discerning what factors in my students' lives are causing friction that works against their ability to learn.

The nice thing about friction is that there ARE ways to lessen it. I'm just not sure how much is within my power as a teacher.