by James Burns | Oct 21, 2018 | James Burns, Respect, Responsibility, The Bully Proof Classroom, The Ramblings of a Dinosaur
Many years ago, a wonderful friend of mine asked me what the smallest part of the body is. I was very young and probably very stupid at the time. I responded with “Duh, a finger.” He commented to me, “No it’s the tongue.” He also said to me that although the tongue is the smallest part of the body, it can do the most damage. I never forgot the conversation that I had with him. Unfortunately he has since passed away and I miss him dearly. Even at 63 years old I could sure use a lot more of his advice and teaching today.
Our words can really do some damage. Damage sometimes that can be life long.Sometimes we don’t even know what were doing. Maybe we just were never taught how to keep quiet. Kids and adults can shoot their mouth off and think that they are being funny or that they’re standing up for themselves. In reality they may be doing more harm than good.
I was watching a baseball game very recently and watched one of the players go crazy over a called third strike. This is a grown man. He had to be restrained by three other players and the manager. Of course, he was thrown out of the game. He was also suspended for three games right in the middle of a pennant race. I guess he really showed them. What a dope.
We also like to have laughs at someone else’s expense. My philosophy is if we both aren’t laughing, it’s not funny. Kids today have a real problem with behavior like this. They say things, get a laugh and really hurt the feelings of another person. I don’t even think that they are aware of the fact that people are listening and not everyone is impressed with their wit. Plus, they are creating a negative image of themselves in the minds of other people.
That wonderful friend of mine who talked to me about the tongue was also full of illustrations and stories that were inspiring and instructional. He illustrated this societal problem with a true story that I always refer to as the “Deaf Boy Story” and it is worth sharing here.
There were two boys who were brothers. One of the boys was deaf. They had a friend who hung around with them all the time. This friend was the biggest jokester on two feet. He was always telling jokes or making fun of someone or something. One day, the three boys were headed out of the house. This jokester started to make fun of the way the deaf boy spoke. The deaf kid of course couldn’t hear,and the brother gave a half hearted laugh as they left the house. No harm no foul? The deaf kid didn’t hear so no one got hurt. No one else heard right? No one heard except the deaf kid’s father who was reading the paper in the den.
Let’s fast forward the tape. At the time of this incident, these two boys were sophomores in college. Two years went by and they both graduated with degrees in business administration. Both boys went on the job hunt. This jokester had an interview with a large insurance company. He had to go through one more phase of the hiring process which was to meet the vice – president of the company. Who do you think the vice-president was? The deaf kid’s father. Unfortunately the only perception he had of this young man was that this boy had made fun of his son! It cost the young man the job.
People hear and they watch, too. You never know when you are going to need someone or something. The things that are the greatest desires of our hearts are the things that will be withheld from us because of our past words or actions. Self-control is important and, if your tongue, a one ounce body part, has more control over you than you have over it, it will cost you when least expect it. You never know.
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by James Burns | Oct 19, 2018 | Behavior Management, James Burns, Respect, Responsibility, The Bully Proof Classroom, The Ramblings of a Dinosaur
Thank God for Nick at Night. You know the station that gives you shows like “Leave it To Beaver” or “Lassie.” I was watching“Leave it To Beaver the other day” and could not help but notice how all the adults were called Mr. and Mrs. No Ms. back then. Of course, Eddie Haskell was a bit of a phony when he addressed Beaver’s parents. “Hello, Mrs. Cleaver” or “Hello, Mr. Cleaver.” Then Eddie would run up to Wally’s room and refer to Wally’s dad as “Your old man.”
The question I asked myself is whatever happened to Mr. and Mrs.? Even when I worked as a principal the students called me Burns not Mr. Burns. I listen to my kids refer to their friends mom or dad as Colleen, Tony, Rich, or Barbara.
Lets face it…respect is just not there any more. Everyone thinks that the ground is level. Is anyone in charge out there or is a kid our peer? The less respect kids have for the casual adults they meet, the less respect they will have for teachers, police officers, and yea their employers.
Let’s see if we can turn the tide a little. Speak to the parents of your kids friends and call them Mr. or Mrs. especially in front of your kids. Let’s get our kids to show respect for folks that are older than they are and make them aware that the ground is not level, somebody is older and smarter than they are so they should be treated that way.
I have a dear friend who I have known for 25 years. He has four boys between the ages of 26 and 39. I have known them since they were teenagers and younger. They were calling me Mr. Burns up until 5 years ago. That is when I told them to call me Jim.
by James Burns | Oct 8, 2018 | James Burns, Parents, Relationships, Respect, Responsibility, The Bully Proof Classroom, The Ramblings of a Dinosaur
SECTION ONE
THOUGHTS ON THE FAMILY
BEFORE YOU SIT DOWN AT THE “FAMILY TABLE” YOU BETTER TAKE A LOOK AT YOUR FAMILY TREE
It never ceases to amaze me how we can believe that an actor/actress on a commercial is really the character he or she portrayed on a sitcom. Watching T.V. the other night, Roseanne Barr was doing a commercial on Nick@Nite talking about the importance of having dinner at the “family table.” So the commercial flashed back to her and John Goodman on a Roseanne episode sitting at the dinner table engaged in an argument which was supposed to be funny to the viewer. The point of the commercial was that it doesn’t matter what goes on at the family table as long as you have one.
As a kid, we had a family table. It was a war zone. I’m sure that many people can relate to my family table, and I am sick of calling it that, too. (What is this new term –family table- anyway?) In my house, the family table was more like the family zoo. It didn’t really dawn on me how crazy it was until my sister started dating, and she would bring one of her boyfriends home for dinner. The poor guy would sit there and watch as my father cooled a baked potato. You know, the way everyone does it. Take the potato out of the skin with a fork and hold it about two feet in the air for about 15 seconds and stare at the steam. Then wave it up and down like a magic wand 4 or 5 times until you think it is cool. We all knew it was still hot. He would start to eat it, and then he would leave his mouth half open while he sucked air in to try to cool it.
You see, my father was a short order cook when he was younger, and he was also a mess sergeant in the army. I guess he thought that made him some sort of chef. He always complained about my mother’s cooking. She wasn’t very open to his comments either which led to the battle lines being drawn between the two of them.
My dad also watched his diet; his dinners consisted of a small piece of protein, a vegetable, a potato, and a slice of bread. My mother consistently made those meals for him every night for dinner. But she always fed my two sisters and me the good stuff; you know, all starch and no protein. That really got to him. The question he always asked was, “Why are you feeding them that?”
I tell you, he was purely disgusted by the meals we ate. My father didn’t want me to get fat, but I did. I never knew when he was going to make another negative comment about my diet. One night I ate about a pound of macaroni and meat sauce and a loaf of Italian bread for dinner while he had his standard sparse dinner. He didn’t say one word to me about what I was eating; he just watched. It was almost fun eating dinner with him. I was surprised, but very relieved that he had let me eat my delicious dinner in peace without making one negative comment about my unhealthy dinner.
About two hours later I sneezed. I said, “I think I’m getting a cold.” That was a mistake. He couldn’t wait to jump on that. He said, “Well, that stuff you ate for dinner tonight, you could catch anything from that, and you gobbled it up like dog food.” My father, the general, won that battle after all. He got me.
There were many little idiosyncrasies he had. One day he picked up the butter dish at the dinner table and he found a hair in it. A riot nearly broke out. He walked away from the dinner table thinking that it might be a pubic hair. He wore dentures that were out of his mouth every waking minute that he wasn’t eating or working. They usually fell out of his mouth when he started to yell. That’s when he would rip them out of his mouth so he could finish his tirade. Before he came to the table his teeth had to be brushed, cleaned, and rinsed for about 10 minutes. My mother would call him to dinner really early so he would have time to get his dentures polished up. She knew he hated cold food and didn’t want to listen to him complain.
One night he was going through his denture ritual spit shining his teeth for an unusually long time. My mother must have called him to the table for 20 minutes. He finally sat down, took three bites of food, and looked at me and said, “Cold.”
My mother went nuts because she had done everything humanly possible to get him to the table while the food was still hot. He proceeded to laugh at her outburst which predictably ended in another battle. This time, the general had the land mine perfectly placed and she stepped on it.
Diet was always on my father’s mind. One evening, my sister was leaving for a friend’s house at the dinner hour. My father said to her, “Aren’t you going to eat dinner with us?” She said, “No, I ’m eating at Carol’s house.” He said, “Oh you are.” After she left he looked at me and said, “She’ll eat those greasy foods over there and have fat legs like Carol.” Lucky for her! She got out before the general decided to open fire.
My oldest sister left home and moved to New York when she was 21 years old. I just can’t imagine why. She would come back to visit once a month or so. My sister had the ability to eat fast, and I mean really fast, like she was going to the electric chair. My father, on the other hand, was the slowest eater on the planet. She would be finishing eating and he would just be getting started. When she was done eating she got up and started to clear the table and do the dishes. In a small kitchen the strong smell of Lux Liquid started to become really noticeable. Not to mention my sister’s soapy hands clearing the table were leaving soap suds behind – you guessed it – on my father’s food. War, this meant war. My sister didn’t have a chance to surrender and throw up the white flag. She was blown right out of the house and back to Brooklyn Heights.
The Family Table is a popular new term that is supposed to mean that dinner time is where families should be talking, and building strong relation-ships. This is a good idea. But in my case because of my father’s personality and food related phobias, our “family table” was not the place this could happen. Remember, you don’t need the family table to talk to your kids. You can talk to your kids in the family car. I love spending time with my own kids. I don’t have to be at a dinner table. We’re all too fat anyway. Don’t get me wrong. I think it’s great that we have dinner together and chat and enjoy each other’s company, but not because Roseanne says I should, but because it is something that’s fun.
Society always tries to hook some gimmick to things that occurred years ago in a very natural way. In my case my father had more conversations with me in the car than he did at the dinner table. We always went on long car rides and having conversation was a very natural thing to do. I have more conversations with my kids in the car and while we are working on projects than I do at the dinner table. Try talking to your kids without food in your mouth.They might hear what you’re saying a little better.
by James Burns | Feb 23, 2018 | Anti Bullying Coaching and Resources, Anti Bullying Tips, Bully Proof Classroom, James Burns, Lesson Plans, Motives, Responsibility
Do you ever watch CSI (Crime Seen Investigation)? I do, occasionally. I am at amazed how all of the evidence that is collected can point directly at the suspect in question, but they just can’t seem to figure out a motive. They need the motive to convict the person of the crime. We all know what the motive of a bully is, right? Power. They want to have power and control over a smaller or weaker person. How do you change the motive of a bully? By being the strongest and most influential person in the classroom. That’s right, you, the teacher have this ability. You don’t need to use power; you need to use your influence. When your students realize that you are in charge their motives change from wanting to hurt others, to wanting to help. They have met their match. Remember, it is not about the influence of your power, but rather the power of your influence.
A Unit Plan On Responsibility
