My best basketball-watching buddy is Luke. Side by side on gym bleachers watching his older brothers, my youngest grandson teaches me what I’m sure are the basics.
“You know why the ref blew that whistle, Grandma?” he asks.
“Why, Luke?”
“The player stayed inside the key too long,” he says.
He checks my eyes for understanding, and finding none, he goes on.
“That’s the painted-in part in front of the basket,” he explains.
At the last game I watched with Luke, he told me about flopping.
“It’s when they’re not even hurt,” he said, “but they drop down like they’re dying.”
Several minutes later, a player driving to the basket collided with a stationary defender, who flew backward as if he’d been smashed by a freight train.
“Like that,” Luke said. “He’s begging the ref.”
Actually, I didn’t need Luke to teach me about flopping. I’d seen plenty of it in the classroom.
What appeared to be only slights—a side-ways look, a off-hand remark, a jostle—could sometimes bring on meltdowns. Students yelled, cried, lashed out, slammed doors, and ran away. One of my students took to completely shutting down, pulling his six-foot body into a fetal position on the floor.
Flopping is a big deal. That’s what Luke told me. Refs don’t like flopping. They can’t tell if someone’s really hurt. So NBA players are fined $2,000 for each flop.
And in the classroom, flopping is also big deal. Exaggerated emotion pulls other students from learning. But slapping hefty fines on students isn’t an option. So what’s a teacher to do?
Well, more than a referee. While referees call fouls and deal out penalties, teachers come alongside, helping students find healthy ways to express need.
In-class flopping shows something bigger is wrong. It’s about more than the off-hand remark. It’s a call for help. What’s more important than stopping the flopping is finding what’s behind it—perhaps sensory overload or hunger or sickness or entitlement or hidden trauma.
Luke nudged me. On the basketball court a player had gone down.
“This isn’t a flop, Grandma, “Luke said. “Not this time. This is for real.”
As real, I thought, as the often-hidden reasons for classroom flopping.
Apple to Apple 