“So what?” said a student who was slouching down in his chair.
“So what?” Ben asked. “I'll show you. Suppose I could prove to you that you can create power through discipline. Suppose we could do it right here in this classroom. What would you say to that?”
Ross had expected another wisecrack, and he was surprised when it didn't come. Instead the students were becoming interested and curious. Ben went behind his desk and pulled his wooden chair in front of the room so that all the students could see it.
“All right,” he said. “Discipline begins with posture. Amy, come up here for a minute.”
As Amy rose, Brian mumbled, “Teacher's pet.” Normally that would have been enough to start the entire class laughing, but only a few chuckled. The rest ignored him. Everyone was wondering what their teacher was up to.
As Amy sat in the chair at the front of the room, Ben instructed her on how to sit. “Place your hands flat across the small of your back and force your spine straight up. There, can't you breathe more easily?”
Around the classroom, many of the students were imitating the position they saw Amy taking. But even though they were sitting straighter, some couldn't help finding it humorous. David was the next to try his hand at a joke: “Is this history, or did I come to phys. ed. by mistake?” he asked. A few kids laughed, but still tried to improve their posture.
“Come on, David,” Ben said. “Give it a try. We've had enough wise-guy remarks.”
Grudgingly David pushed himself up straight in his chair. Meanwhile their teacher walked down each aisle, checking the posture of each student. It was amazing, Ross thought. Somehow he'd hooked them. Why, even Robert...
“Class,” Ben announced, “I want everyone to see how Robert's legs are parallel. His ankles are locked, his knees are bent at ninety degrees. See how straight his spine is. Chin tucked in, head up. That's very good, Robert.”
Robert, the class nerd, looked up at his teacher and smiled briefly, then returned to his stiff upright position. Around the room the other students tried to copy him.
Ben returned to the front of the classroom. “All right. Now I want you all to get up and walk around the room. When I give the command, I want you to return to your seats as quickly as possible and assume the proper seating posture. Come on, everyone, up, up, up.”
The students stood up and started wandering around the room. Ben knew he couldn't let them go too long or they'd lose their concentration on the exercise, so he quickly said, “Take your seats!”
The students dashed back to their seats. There were bumps and grunts as a few ran into each other, and around the room some kids laughed, but the dominant sound was the loud scraping of chair legs as the kids sat down.
In the front of the room, Ben shook his head. “That was the most disorganized mess I've ever seen. This isn't duck, duck, goose, this is an experiment in movement and posture. Now come on, lets try it again. This time without the chatter. The quicker and more controlled you are, the faster you will be able to reach your seats properly. Okay? Now, everyone, up!”
For the next twenty minutes the class practiced getting out of their seats, wandering around in apparent disorganization and then, at their teacher's command, quickly returning to their seats and the correct seated posture. Ben shouted orders more like a drill sergeant than a teacher. Once they seemed to have mastered quick and correct seating, he threw in a new twist. They would still leave their seats and return. But now they would return from the hallway and Ross would time them with a stopwatch.
On the first try, it took forty-eight seconds. The second time they were able to do it in half a minute. Before the last attempt, David had an idea.
“Listen,” he told his classmates as they stood outside in the hall waiting for Mr Ross's signal. “Let's line up in the order of who has to go the farthest to reach their desks inside. That way we won't have to bump into each other.”
The rest of the class agreed. As they got into the correct order, they couldn't help noticing that Robert was at the head of the line. “The new head of the class,” someone whispered as they waited nervously for their teacher to give them the sign. Ben snapped his fingers and the column of students moved quickly and quietly into the room. As the last student reached his seat, Ben clicked the stopwatch off. He was smiling. “Sixteen seconds.”
The class cheered.
“All right, all right, quiet down,” their teacher said, returning to the front of the room. To his surprise, the students calmed down quickly. The silence that suddenly filled the room was almost eerie. Normally the only time the room was that still, Ross thought, was when it was empty.
“Now, there are three more rules that you must obey,” he told them. “One. Everybody must have pencils and notepaper for note-taking. Two. When asking or answering a question, you must stand at the side of your seats. And three. The first words you say when answering or asking a question are, “Mr Ross.” All right?”
Around the room, heads nodded.
“All right,” Mr Ross said. “Brad, who was the British Prime Minister before Churchill?”
Still sitting at his seat, Brad chewed nervously on a fingernail. “Uh, wasn't it —"
But before he could say more, Mr Ross quickly cut him off. “Wrong, Brad, you already forgot the rules I just told you.” He looked across the room at Robert. “Robert, show Brad the proper procedure for answering a question.”
Instantly Robert stood up next to his desk at attention. “Mr Ross.”
“Correct,” Mr Ross said. “Thank you, Robert.”
“Aw, this is dumb,” Brad mumbled.
“Just because you couldn't do it right,” someone said.
“Brad,” Mr Ross said, “who was the Prime Minister before Churchill?”
This time Brad rose and stood beside his desk. “Mr Ross, it was, uh, Prime Minister, uh.”
“You're still too slow, Brad,” Mr Ross said. “From now on, everyone make your answers as short as possible, and spit them out when asked. Now, Brad, try again.”
This time Brad snapped up beside his seat. “Mr Ross, Chamberlain.”
Ben nodded approvingly. “Now that's the way to answer a question. Punctual, precise, with punch. Andrea, what country did Hitler invade in September of 1939?”
Andrea, the ballet dancer, stood stiffly by her desk. “Mr Ross, I don't know.”
Mr Ross smiled. “Still, a good response because you used proper form. Amy, do you know the answer?”
Amy hopped up beside her desk. “Mr Ross, Poland.”
“Excellent,” Mr Ross said. “Brian, what was the name of Hitler's political party?”
Brian quickly got out of his chair. “Mr Ross, the Nazis.”
Mr Ross nodded. “That's good, Brian. Very quick. Now, does anyone know the official name of the party? Laurie?”
Laurie Saunders stood up beside her desk. “The National Socialist —
“No!” There was a sharp bang as Mr Ross struck his desktop with a ruler. “Now do it again correctly.”
Laurie sat down, a confused look on her face. What had she done wrong? David leaned over and whispered in her ear. Oh, right. She stood up again. “Mr Ross, the National Socialist German Workers Party.”
“Correct,” Mr Ross replied.
Mr Ross kept asking questions, and around the room students jumped to attention, eager to show that they knew both the answer and the correct form with which to give it. It was a far cry from the formally casual atmosphere of the classroom, but neither Ben nor his students reflected on that fact. They were too caught up in this new game. The speed and precision of each question and answer were exhilarating. Soon Ben was perspiring as he shouted each question out and another student rose sharply beside his or her desk to shout back a terse reply.