Dealing with Disruptive Students in CI Class: What Works (and What Backfires)

Real examples and better alternatives to common management reactions
(Now with 100% more sarcasm, strategy, and spiritual healing for CI teachers everywhere)

Welcome to the Chaos Carnival: A CI Teacher’s Guide to Sanity

So, you’ve chosen the Way of the Input.

You ditched the textbook. You’re story-asking, you’re delivering language like a boss, and you’re out here narrating llama love triangles with the kind of facial expressions that deserve an Emmy. And yet…

In the back of the room, two kids are sword-fighting with whiteboard markers. One is trying to moonwalk across the tile floor. And someone just asked, “Can I go to the nurse?”—while lying under their desk.

Comprehension-based instruction is powerful. It’s engaging. It’s research-backed.

And it absolutely does not come with a behavior force field.

So how do we actually deal with disruptive students without sacrificing the CI magic, our classroom peace, or our last surviving brain cell?

Let’s take a gloriously honest, hilariously practical tour through what works, what crashes and burns, and what will save your sanity before you start hiding in your supply cabinet.

1. “Shhh” Is Not a Behavior Plan—It’s an Emotional Support Sigh

Let’s start with the classic. The go-to move. The desperate whisper-hiss every teacher has attempted by week two:

“SHHHHHHH!”

Which in teacher translates to:

“I have no plan. I am clinging to a sound. Please send help.”

Unfortunately, students are not cats. They don’t respond to hissing. In fact, they tend to get louder just to test how many decibels it takes to make you combust.

What Backfires:
Whisper-yelling. Death-glaring. Chanting “quiet” like a Gregorian monk.

What Works:

• Establish a reset cue BEFORE chaos strikes. Teach it, practice it, use it like your pension depends on it.
  • Try “Hands on top!” (Class: “That means stop!”)
  • Or “3-2-1: Freeze Frame!” where everyone pauses like they’re in a musical waiting for jazz hands.
• Add humor. Yell “PAUSE THE UNIVERSE!” while striking a melodramatic superhero pose. Yes, you’ll look ridiculous. That’s the point. Ridiculous gets attention.
• Train them with routines, not reactions. You are not a fire alarm. You are a language wizard wielding invisible classroom spells. Use them.

2. The Public Call-Out: When Classroom Management Becomes a Reality Show

“KAYLA! Stop talking!”

And now… you’re the star of Real Teachers of 7th Period Drama.

Public corrections are tempting. They feel immediate, visible, like you're “handling it.” But what you're actually doing is casting yourself as the antagonist in a teenage soap opera. Congratulations! You’ve just made a minor disruption into an episode of CI: SVU.

What Backfires:
Public shaming. Ejecting students mid-story. Yelling over them while pretending you're still in control.

What Works:

• Silent Proximity. Walk over. Stand there. Say nothing. It’s called The Cloak of Awkwardness—and it’s very effective.
• Private hand signals or notes. Sticky notes that say “Let’s talk after” or “Take a reset” are your best friend. Bonus points if the note has a cute cat meme on it.
• Designated Reset Zones. Not a punishment corner—a “VIP Thinking Chair.” Give it a ridiculous name. Let it be a place for decompression, not doom.

Think less prison warden, more Montessori Jedi.

3. Sarcasm: The Sweet, Spicy Road to Student Mutiny

“Oh, I’m SO glad you’re enjoying your side conversation while I’m teaching. Please, tell me more about what you did this weekend.”

Let me be brutally honest: sarcasm is delicious. It’s cathartic. It lets you fire off that burn that’s been simmering all week.

And it absolutely will make everything worse.

Middle schoolers, especially, treat sarcasm like a piñata: the moment they sense it, they start swinging. And suddenly your lesson on possessive pronouns becomes a roast battle. You lose.

What Backfires:
Sarcasm. Passive-aggressive commentary. Public roasts disguised as “jokes.”

What Works:

• Over-praise nearby students instead. “Wow, Brandon is giving me his eyeballs and his brain! That’s advanced-level focus.”
• Redirect with a reset phrase. Something funny but firm like, “Let’s reroute that energy. Recalculating…”
• Narrate ideal behavior like a nature doc. “And here, in their natural habitat, we see Jaylen, completely ignoring the chaos and listening intently…”

You’ll get more mileage out of absurdity than snark. Unless you want your students to start a comedy club featuring you as the punchline.

4. Candy, Points, and Sticker Bribes: The Sweet Trap of Short-Term Sanity

Let’s talk about bribes. Or as we like to call them, “motivational lollipops.”

They work… until they don’t. And then your students become like caffeine-addicted raccoons, demanding their daily Fun Dip before they’ll lift a pencil.

What Backfires:
Over-reliance on external rewards. Treating participation like a vending machine transaction.

What Works:

• Offer control instead of candy. Let them pick the name of the next character in your story (warning: it will be “Shrek McButtface” and you will survive).
• Create class-wide silly incentives. “If we make it through the whole story with 90% focus, I’ll read the next one in a pirate voice.”
• Celebrate in the moment. Spontaneous applause, drumrolls, or confetti GIFs projected on the board. Let attention and laughter be the reward.

In short: replace sugar with silliness. Same dopamine. Less dental damage.

5. The Myth of “They Should Just Know Better”

Ah, the trap we’ve all fallen into.

“They should KNOW not to talk while I’m explaining a story about a squirrel in a sombrero!”

Sure. And I should know not to check emails at 11 p.m., but here we are.

Assuming students magically understand CI expectations without ever explicitly being taught them is like handing someone a lightsaber and yelling “Good luck!” in a dark room. Chaos is inevitable.

What Backfires:
Winging it. Hoping routines will “organically emerge.” Trusting that “they’ll get it eventually.”

What Works:

• Model EVERYTHING. Yes, even how to respond to a question in silence. Overact it. Involve student volunteers. Be so dramatic the Oscars call.
• Establish norms visually. Post classroom expectations in student-friendly language: “Eyes here = language in your brain!” “Interruptions feed the chaos monster.”
• Practice CI norms like you would practice a new structure. Reps. Daily. With praise and ridiculous jokes.

The clearer the expectations, the smoother the input. Don’t assume—they’re not psychic. (And if they are, they’re using it to predict lunch, not your CI routine.)

Conclusion: You’re Not Alone. And You’re Not Failing. You’re Just Teaching.

If your classroom feels like a three-ring circus with a side of existential dread, you’re not doing it wrong—you’re doing it authentically.

Disruptions don’t mean your CI approach isn’t working. They mean you’re teaching actual human beings, many of whom are emotionally unstable houseplants in sneakers.

But here’s the good news:

You can absolutely create a joyful, calm-ish, input-rich classroom without becoming a dictator or a doormat. You can laugh. You can redirect with grace. You can walk through a CI lesson while balancing a student on your metaphorical shoulders and still get acquisition.

You just need a few routines, a bit of strategy—and the ability to laugh through the absurd.

🔑 Five Key Takeaways

• “SHHH” is a sound. Not a strategy. Build cues instead.
• Sarcasm roasts students and your classroom vibe. Use absurd praise instead.
• Public discipline creates drama. Private redirection builds trust.
• External rewards backfire fast. Offer choices, control, and celebration instead.
• CI behavior norms must be taught like content—dramatically, visually, and repeatedly.

🧭 Next Steps

🧪 Take the CI Proficiency Quiz to find your next step on your CI journey:
https://imim.us/ciquiz

🔥 Tired of classroom chaos? You need the Dynamic Discipline Course:
Real tools, real routines, real teacher sanity.
https://imim.us/discipline

You deserve a classroom where you teach with joy… and without needing to scream into your lanyard.