One Friday last May, my seventh-grade son came home from school and sports practice as usual. After dinner he told a rather funny story about a girl in his fifth period honors English Language Arts class making waffles during class. He told us about how she pulled a waffle maker out of her backpack and plugged it in to the power socket behind her desk in the back row. She explained that she pulled waffle batter, mixed at home I assume, from a lunch box and proceeded to cook a waffle. Then someone clued him into the production happening in the back, and that’s when he started paying attention. She was strategic, quiet, and calm. She faced forward at all the right times and moved cooked waffles onto a plate on the floor when their teacher was otherwise busy or facing another direction. My son only noticed the smell, at first, and then a buzz throughout the room. The teacher commented, “What’s with you all today?” because the kids were a little giggly. During independent work time, the female student placed her plate of five cooked waffles on her desk. She pulled a jar of maple syrup and a bowl of berries from her lunch box, topped the waffle, and then dig into her feast with a knife and fork. By this point she had the attention of the entire class, who couldn’t focus on anything productive as they waited for her to get caught. The teacher of this particular class is known for her no-eating policy, and one student sneaking a gummy bear in the front row got busted just last week.

“The memes are true!” we laughed at home as he told the story. Maybe you’ve seen them. Kids in the front versus kids in the back. “I wonder about all the things I missed teaching middle school,” I commented. I felt the student was bold, a bit disrespectful, and also a little legendary.

I asked my son if I could tweet it, because it seemed like a fun post. “I don’t want to get her or my teacher in trouble!” he said immediately. He’s not afraid to speak out on things that matter, mind you.  This year, my son has reported a bully (of other students, that he observed several times as a bystander) and a thief (candy bowl, off the teacher’s desk, after he warned the student to put it back the next day or he’d have to answer honestly when asked if he knew who had taken it). But this wasn’t a reportable offense, cooking waffles, and he didn’t want to make a fuss out of something so funny and relatively harmless.

I told him probably no one would even see the tweet. It was late Friday night after all.

I might have been wrong on that.

Saturday morning, I woke up to 100k views. And a lot of comments. As the weekend went on, I checked in every so often and the numbers – and the comments – just kept climbing. By Sunday evening, the tweet was just under half a million views and I had to confess to my son that I was no longer sure no one from his school would see it.

I only engaged with a handful of comments. I replied to a couple at the start, from people I knew, with clarifying remarks. But I knew I couldn’t reply to the crazy, cutting, or ridiculous replies and retweets, so I decided to let them all go for my own mental health.

Instead, I paid attention to themes. And I thought about what I can learn from this experience, in hopes I can grow as a human. With that in mind, I’ll share my thoughts with you too.

Aghast/Surprise/Clarification/Doubt

Some people were as shocked as I was. Several people wanted to know if the teacher knew (we don’t think she chose a battle, we think the kids were stealth and the stinky middle schoolers’ natural body odor has deadened her senses). A few people claimed I made it up. These replies were mostly playful and went along with what I thought was the tone of my tweet. Life lesson: read the room and ask questions.

I have a story like this too.

So. Many. People. Posted funny responses about stuff their kids did at school. A lot of them related to food as well. These were also funny and I learned a lot about the power of kids who have a plan. These responses were also generally playful with an eye roll and a smile at the harmless, quirky behavior of students everywhere. Life lesson: learn to laugh and life is much simpler.

Not in my classroom

These people were adamant this behavior must be shut down immediately (safety hazard was a top reply) and that it would never happen in MY classroom. I’m sorry, but how arrogant is that? You don’t know what you haven’t caught. Life lesson: judge not!

Girl, you’re out of touch

I was kind of surprised how many comments I got that I either had no idea what was happening in real middle schools across the country or somehow didn’t understand the awful urgency of things like school shootings. I haven’t taught middle school in awhile, true. But when I did, I taught in a rough area. I had kids come to school drunk, in gangs, bringing weapons to school, and starting wrestle-to-the-floor-punching fights in the middle of independent reading. I once watched my student drive by me in the Target parking lot. He was 13 and borrowed his uncle‘s car! So yeah, I hear you all. Waffles aren’t the biggest problem. And I certainly never meant to minimize the fear some teachers and students have about violence at school, so I apologize if anyone felt I did. Life lesson: people are quick to point out how their situation is worse than yours.

The Hunger Assumption

No, she wasn’t hungry. What most replies in this category assumed was that it was first period or early in the morning. Many kids come to school hungry, or miss lunch. I know. See prior paragraph about teaching in a rough area. I’ve handed out my share of peanut butter crackers and bananas. But guess what? In this case, it was fifth period, immediately after lunch. Also consider this child had the resources to pack not only batter and a waffle maker, but also fresh berries and syrup to school. This child isn’t going hungry. She’s playing a game. Life lesson: find out the details before you put together an opinion.

You’re a horrible human

??? Let’s see here. I was told that I wasn’t doing enough to “empower the entrepreneurial spirit of underprivileged kids.” Whoa. I feel that’s a stretch. I’m not sure how the negative posts and name calling started, but I’m so glad my usual PLN is full of encouragement and grace. People who post angry, hateful comments with no basis to complete strangers have no place in my world. I ignored all of them. Life lesson: you don’t have time for that nonsense.

Empower the children

There were sooo many replies that applauded her behavior! Many people commented that we should be proud. And you know what? I kind of was. That’s why I posted it. I’m impressed by her planning skills, her thoughtfulness, and her confidence. Even her curiosity: “What would happen if…?” And there was a general sentiment that kids should be more empowered in school,  able to guide their own learning, and teachers need to give up so much authority. All excellent points! And I’m a big big fan of student empowerment, passion based learning, and outside of the box projects. What I’m not a fan of (and what I feel happened here) is sneaky behavior that disrupts the learning of other students. Life lesson: channel disruptive energy into positive activity that benefits everyone!

I want one too!

Wow. The number of people who said she could make waffles if they got one too! Really?! I think most of these people were just being funny. At least I hope so. Life lesson: bring teachers food and they’ll let you get away with anything. 😉

What did can we learn from viral posts?

By the end of the weekend, my tweet reached over half a million views. I gained maybe 3 followers and a whole new understanding of social media behavior. I can honestly say I breathed a little easier when my notifications went back to normal. I’d rather have a hundred great interactions than a thousand pieces of noise.

In general, people tend to snap comment on social media. We don’t think about context, assumption, inference, or even emotion. We get a snippet of information (280 characters or less, in this case) and form a complete reaction. It’s easy to do, and not always wrong. In many cases, we may need to stop and look for more details before responding. Worth teaching our students, for sure.