a little attention

     Sometimes I think I make things more complex than they need to be.
     Like all of my students, Pup is suffering a bad case of spring fever. He was so off task last week that I pulled him on the side and mentioned that if things didn't improve, I would make a call home. This elicited immediate exclamations of, "No! I'll do better!" I meant to call last week, but honestly, was too tired.
     My usual practice during independent work time is to invite kids who want assistance to sit at the round table in the back with me. Usually "invite" sounds like this .... "Pirate! Grab your dictionary, vocab list and a pencil and meet me in the back!" I was thinking about this one day and realized I was squeezing out a bunch of kids who want and need help, but are not the behavior problems I usually tap first for a seat in the back. Sadly, this means my girls who are struggling readers don't get as much help as they would benefit from. They will sit quietly and struggle through on their own, while my struggling boy readers will start folding and flying paper airplanes, playing with the sink, trying to sharpen their pencil backwards, etc. To keep order I usually fill up the back table with boys.
     Today, however, I left it up to the students if they wanted to sit with me. Pup was one of them. As he sat to my right, I secretly marveled at how industrious he was. He even left the table after a while and continued working on his own.
    The difference? He got to sit next to me and work. Pup is one of my clingiest students. He constantly desires attention and affection ... mine, Puakenikeni's, resource teachers' -- anyone, really. He didn't get or seek an excessive amount of attention today -- I had to field requests for help from 7 other students at the same time. But just sitting closer to me helped him focus.
    Intervention doesn't have to be difficult or labor-intensive ... it just needs to suit the student and fulfill one of their needs.