Melissa's Place

Clay’s Snorts

I teach a boy named Clay. He’s what we’d classify as a WLD (weird little dude). He lacks social skills and is often caught throwing other students’ things because he doesn’t like the way they talk or poking them because they are annoying. When I ask him if he’d prefer to be moved to a quieter spot at a table alone, he says that he doesn’t work best that way.

Anyway, I am in the middle of teaching a very serious math lesson during the first week of school and I am still really struggling for the students’ attention at this point. I am also really fighting for the position of authority so early in the year.

I am mid-sentence when I hear a loud snorting sound, like a bullet booger being shot like a spit-ball out of someone’s left nostril. And it’s loud.
I stop talking.

The snorting again. It’s coming from Clay.

I try to be casual as I say, “Clay, there’s a box of tissues on my desk.”

He doesn’t get up. I begin to delve back into how to properly find the prime factorization for a composite number when I hear the snorting again – this time louder. I can feel laughter rising up my throat but I manage to keep it under control. I am a bit frustrated by this interruption again, not to mention the rudeness of it, and I say with a bit more force, “Clay! The tissues are on my desk.”

I try to pick up the lesson where I left off and then comes a triple threat of snorts, with even more force than before. The kids start to giggle. I’m losing their focus. It’s becoming a circus. I have no patience for circuses. I have to show him I mean BUSINESS.

“CLAY!” I say in a voice that says THAT’S ENOUGH.

He doesn’t even look up but very loudly and articulately says, “I DON’T NEED A TISSUE! I HAVE TOURETTE’S!”