I don't like to take students' stuff, but sometimes I do.
I have to.
Give me a break: you're a middle school girl, sitting at a desk, with your bookbag on your lap and your two hands inside the bag (along with your attention) . . .
"Is that my cell phone?" I ask.
Startled student: "What?"
Do students really think we are that stupid, that we can't tell when they are using a cell phone in class?
My pattern--so far, though this may change--has been to confiscate the phone and, during a lull in class, take it to the front desk.
"A present for you!" I tell the receptionist, which is always met with a smile.
Meanwhile, back in class, daggers dart at me from not-so-veiled eyes.
The end-of-class bell rings.
"Teacher! My phone!"
I pretend not to notice the urgent voice.
"Teacher! It's important!"
One student this last week, on Wednesday, said, about another student--bless her--"Give it to her on Friday."
I usually relent and say, "Go to the front desk, apologize, and ask for your phone back. Nicely."
Ogre that I am, I also confiscated a younger boy's toys during another class.
He had been warned not to play with they during class time (we are talking small, eraser-sized toys).
The boy had adhered to my warning but his desk-mate didn't, so the toys went into my pocket.
Tears ensued.
Concerned classmates--and this is truly endearing--went over my head to the owner of the school (who happened to be in the hallway) to ask for the toys back.
Students who have things taken away once seldom have them taken away again.
Surprisingly, they still like me as a teacher.
There must be some psychology in all of that, but many teachers would say it all comes down to one simple rule: "You use it, you lose it."