Brain breaks.
I know, they are in fashion.
I didn’t do brain breaks.
I just did breaks.
I wasn’t going to tell them how to relax.
I’d slap that magnet on the chalk board from the S to the G and walk way.
No need to say “Break time”. The magnet said it all.
If the kids listened closely to my muttering as I walked away from the board, they might have heard me say, “Smoke ‘em if you got ‘em”.
Totally inappropriate, I know.
But I laughed to myself as they would immediately cluster up and whisper to one another.
In ninety seconds, I would slap that magnet back to the S like I was an obstetrician smacking a newborn baby’s bottom for an APGAR assessment.
And they would come back focused and ready for more music.
Kids need breaks. Period.
Everything they experience doesn’t need to pass through the teacher’s ureter.
Work ‘em hard.
Then . . . .
Let them talk.
Let them play.
Let them ask you a question or tell you a joke.
A little “rock, paper, scizzors”.
Give them a real break.
What if it were you?
Imagine a professional day presentation.
Your ninety minutes into it, trying to look engaged when all you want is to get another cup of coffee. You need to hit the head and make a quick phone call to your real estate agent and know a break is imminent.
The presenter say, “OK, we’ve been at it for ninety minutes so lets take a break . . . . . a BRAIN break! So . . .”
Imagine how ticked off you would be.
Don’t try to continuously dictate your students’ joy and intellectual curiosity.
Let the kids have a real break.
I know, they are in fashion.
I didn’t do brain breaks.
I just did breaks.
I wasn’t going to tell them how to relax.
I’d slap that magnet on the chalk board from the S to the G and walk way.
No need to say “Break time”. The magnet said it all.
If the kids listened closely to my muttering as I walked away from the board, they might have heard me say, “Smoke ‘em if you got ‘em”.
Totally inappropriate, I know.
But I laughed to myself as they would immediately cluster up and whisper to one another.
In ninety seconds, I would slap that magnet back to the S like I was an obstetrician smacking a newborn baby’s bottom for an APGAR assessment.
And they would come back focused and ready for more music.
Kids need breaks. Period.
Everything they experience doesn’t need to pass through the teacher’s ureter.
Work ‘em hard.
Then . . . .
Let them talk.
Let them play.
Let them ask you a question or tell you a joke.
A little “rock, paper, scizzors”.
Give them a real break.
What if it were you?
Imagine a professional day presentation.
Your ninety minutes into it, trying to look engaged when all you want is to get another cup of coffee. You need to hit the head and make a quick phone call to your real estate agent and know a break is imminent.
The presenter say, “OK, we’ve been at it for ninety minutes so lets take a break . . . . . a BRAIN break! So . . .”
Imagine how ticked off you would be.
Don’t try to continuously dictate your students’ joy and intellectual curiosity.
Let the kids have a real break.