Oh great. Those kids, they're testing me now.

"Okay, let's turn to the next page and… Alan, where are you going? Hey man, where are you going? Alan? Come on, sit down man. Alan. Alan, please sit down. Alan…"

I was too late. Alan was already on all fours, crawling on the ground. Giovanni looked on and smiled a toothy grin.

Alan peeked at me from behind his desk. Then he scurried away, invisible tail wagging and all.

Sigh…

How do teachers do it?

I've been participating in a program called Classroom Buddies for the last few weeks. Each volunteer has to put in at least one hour a month at a nearby elementary school towards helping a teacher in his/her class. This can take the form of helping the students in a particular subject, like math or science, or assisting the teacher with arts and crafts or gym activities.

I was given a special needs classroom with the duty of reading to them. The teacher, bless her heart, could tell that I was new to this and assigned me only two boys: a 5th grader (Alan) and a 3rd grader (Giovanni).

Two boys. I figured I could handle that. If I can handle a room full of irate clients and aggressive deadlines, two little boys would be nothing. (What's that sound? That sounds like my Mom laughing. Why?)

The boys, she told me, would be very happy having an adult male in their educational lives. They apparently look up to adult guys more than they do adult girls.

So armed with this knowledge and confidence, I opted for the Cool Guy approach. I would be their buddy, their friend, the Cool Guy who could get them beer and fake IDs and, um, read to them and make sure they stay in school. Yea, that's what I meant to say.

Unfortunately, the Cool Guy approach is obviously failing. I might be their buddy, but I sure don't have any authority over them. See? There goes Alan, crawling on all fours, barking like a dog. That's what being a buddy has gotten me.

"They need more than a friend," a teacher friend once told me. "You're there to help in their education. You are in a position of authority; you need to act that way too."

Yea, but how? Does that mean I have to yell at them? Discipline them? But that seems so… uncool…

Alan's up now, on his hind legs, I mean, legs. "Mr. Mike, read this book! Mr. Mike, read this book!" He grabs a book from the shelf and launches towards me. Giovanni smiles and jumps up from the table.

The book is not on the table for 30 seconds when Alan swipes it back and grabs another book. "Mr. Mike! Mr. Mike, read this book!"

Giovanni grabs a third book and hurtles it towards the table. "This one!"

"You are in a position of authority," my friend's voice chants to me. She's standing in front of me like Obiwan Kenobi, glowing and transparent. "You need to act that way too."

"Yes, Obiwan Kenobi, you're my only hope," I whisper. I get up from my seat and glare at the two boys.

"Alan! Giovanni!" They momentarily stop in their tracks, my voice like headlights on their wide eyes. "Sit down and read the next page!"

They scurry back to their seats and open up their books again. Ahhh. They are quiet again, subdued. Order is once again restored. And I hope I passed the test.

. . .

Have you ever been tested by kids?