Welcome to the Wakefield Doctrine (the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers)

(yeah…that little bastard in the left rear did, in fact, throw something at our hero, who is trying to take the proffered advice to 'just ignore them and they'll get bored and move on…')*

I must confess to a somewhat sordid and ego-centric motivation for my writing a post today, the second on as many days and quite out of the ordinary for this blog, at least as of late. That I never tire of writing about the benefits of the Wakefield Doctrine is not surprising, the way the mind has of turning things around in a manner at once misleading, (in the actual effects of certain behavior) and somehow obviously not what the original intention, is.

….whew!

At least my pendantric gland remains in robust good health! No, you’re right, I shouldn’t joke. This is serious.

…ok, I hear you. ( from the back of a classroom that, in my mind is as real as the plastic keys that shape the light into letters on my screen.) I hear “Hey! You’re writing about a personality theory that’s called, ‘the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers’!! Don’t worry about anyone taking this too seriously! And, since you’ve given voice to a character-in-a-visualization-of-an-idea, tell ’em what this ‘classroom’ looks like, why dont’cha.”)

Sure.

This classroom that’s providing me with a subtly engaging context for today’s discussion of the use of the Wakefield Doctrine? The desks have wrought-iron frames that are bolted to the floor, they aren’t simply uprights to support the desk and the seat. These frameworks have curves and almost classical lines, filigree in dark bronze. The desk itself is a slanted surface of wood (maybe maple… yeah, probably maple) that’s hinged along the top edge, where there continues a 3 inch level band of wood, with a groove running from left to right for pencils and a circular hole on the right side for the bottle of ink that you’ll never be given. Inside is simply space for your dotted-middle lined pad of paper, spare flash cards and a chipped-and-picked-at (for ammunition) brick of flesh-colored gum eraser. Oh, yeah and two Lindy pens well-tooth-indented.

The classroom is 5 rows across and seven deep. The nuns are nothing if they’re not orderly. In the very back of the room is what you love to hear referred to as ‘the wardrobes’… pretty much closets with folding doors and a double row of brass coat hooks. There are two doors to the corridor with windows at adult height and a single inward-tilting transom window. There is a pole in the back of the room to operate these windows. The blackboard is black and there are 4 black felt erasers (with a red and white label on the non-erasing surface) in a metal tray running along the lower edge. Across the wall, just above the blackboard are the letters of the alphabet, (capital and small) in script. Above the row of letters, in the dead center is a crucifix. The teacher’s desk is entirely wooden, and her chair does not have wheels. The floors are tile (greenish and black in a checkerboard pattern). There is a black and white clock on the inside wall, well above reach. All your friends are there…

 

hey, sorry!  wordisthenics time is over for the morning. Will try to get back later in the day. Feel free to leave any (additional) classroom details in the Comments

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