With another summer shot in the backside the kids are preparing to drag theirs to school this week. Neither of them is all that excited about getting penned up in the big house for the next 9 months and I can’t say I blame them. No more staying up until you fall asleep and sleeping until you wake up.

There are schedules, rules, alarm clocks, bells, whistles, and the occasional tornado siren (it’s just a drill) that are assembled at the ready and demanding your undivided attention. Have you ever given anything your undivided attention? I know I have, but never on purpose.

The growl and unmistakable sound of a dog collars jingle jangle coming up behind you while you’re running or riding bike is cause for undivided attention. Suddenly trying to remember the third verse of “Forever In Blue Jeans” doesn’t seem so pressing when you have sharp teeth and a less than sunny disposition to contend with.

During my time sauntering the hallowed halls of Burke Central there were some teachers that were better than others at gaining or grabbing your undivided attention. My sixth grade teacher, Mr. Christenson, was a great teacher and one that you learned in short order demanded your undivided attention.

Of course free will being free will you could opt not to give it but you had better be good at feigning it or you would experience a gentle uplifting of your short hairs that would bring your undivided attention front and center. Unlike the dog there was no jingle jangle to warn you of the impeding attention getter just that eerie classroom silence that you become aware of much to late.

Mr. Savelkoul was another teacher that didn’t have to ask for your undivided attention he just grabbed it, figuratively and occasionally literally. When you’re a runty 90 pound seventh grader looking up at a not so runty German man with hands that could and did dismantle many shop projects that didn’t meet his approval your attention does not divide.

And on the first day of shop class when he matter-of-factly states, with more than a hint of satisfaction, “We’re all alone down here and accidents do happen” your attention not only does not divide it multiplies.

Now that attention getters, not so idle threats of physical pain, and good old fashioned terror tactics are not socially acceptable in our schools I’m not sure what a teacher has to do for undivided attention. Especially when kids nowadays have a laundry list of gadgets and what not that are constantly dividing or completely capturing their attention.

It’s much easier for a kid today to sneak some music or other form of entertainment into the classroom than it was for us. There was no sneaking a boom box or ghetto blaster (lots of ghettos in upstate ND) the size of a Shetland pony into a classroom. Secretly watch a movie during class? That wasn’t going to happen.

You would need that Shetland hooked up to a rickshaw cart to drag the 1200 pound television and 200 pound VCR into the classroom (beta max if you were really hoity toity). There were a few teachers that may not have noticed, or simply ignored, the electronics toting pony with the 26 extension cords trailing behind it but I had no room in my locker for oats, carrots, a curry brush, and road apple disposal.

This past May after the last day of school my son said, “Dad I’ll do better next year.” If he starts slipping Mr. Christenson is going to have to head south to provide some tutoring and the occasional attention getter. My daughter is a short timer now with only two years left before she gets booted out into the cold cruel real world or the warm fuzzy college campus. Choose wisely.

Enjoy the school year, and remember, there is a direct correlation between undivided attention devoted to your teacher and improved test scores, clearer complexion, and pleasant breathe.