Being a better teacher – Page 37

Am I angry?

Yes. Sometimes.

But I think I’m at the life stage where it’s not so much “anger” as it is “resentment.” This may look like anger, and it can smell like anger, but anger is basically fear wearing a mask. Resentment is more like the sword of (in)justice ringing unsheathed–righteous indignation’s big brother.

Main Entry: re·sent·ment

Pronunciation: ri-ˈzent-mənt

Function: noun

Date: 1619

: a feeling of indignant displeasure or persistent ill will at something regarded as a wrong, insult, or injury

synonyms see offense

What makes me resentful? Well, a lot of things: disrespect, ignorance, greed, the twins, Miss Communication and Miss Information (the two ugly step-sisters of Miss Guided). I wish I always acted the hero, always did what was right and just for the greater good, but alas, I do not. Resentment is the foundation of every decent villain worth his salt (and vinegar). The hero doesn’t do things because they are resentful–they do things and act courageously because it’s difficult, well-intended, and helps others besides themselves. The villain is just pissed off.

Recently I took offense at something that was created by Miss Guided, Miss Communicated, and Miss Informed. I didn’t take the high road –not even close. There’s still the “smell of anger” on my muddy mental shoes. Got down in the muck, and am covered in it, head to toe.

And now that I’m thinking about it, I really should get over myself. How about that? I’m not going to apologize for my opinion. I think I give out apologies too quickly, when I should allow myself to have an opinion for once, and not bend and be flexible. A fixed mind set is, well, rooted deeply. But sometimes my “bending tree” has slapped me in the face with a branch. But I will get over myself, and try to be a bit more full of grace.

But before I try on some humility–I might be right.

Okay.

I’m done.

I’d love to know how others “get over themselves.” I’m not very good at this one.

Passport.

Every time, without fail or exception, if I need a guest teacher, I inevitably get a note about my 7th period students.

The quotes range from ‘WORST CLASS EVER!!!!!’ to “chaos,” “challenging,” “chatty,” “disruptive,” and the ubiquitous, “not on task.” Yeah.

I was watching some teacher videos demonstrating classroom management the other week. The pretty, young teacher had small groups of elementary students who watched and listened to her every word. If a child as much put his head down on the book, she would stop, and with the commanding presence of an English dog trainer, wait stone still until the child resumed his attention. I’m very good at wait time, too, but I admit, even my 7th period class has realized it’s a war of attrition. We wear each other down, until no one “wins.” I don’t get to do my job, which I love, and they don’t get half of the education that the other classes gain.

I told them today the best analogy I could think of: As individuals, I really like each of them. However, if they were a country, I would turn in my passport. There is nothing I want to visit, no activities I want to do, and no sights I want to see in their “country.” On the voyage of my day, I swim through the rarified air of honors, then through the rustic lands of other languages, reading instrution land and then…the blown-out shards of 7th period. There are a few ambassadors of the group who try, who are attentive–but most have checked out.

I’d like to think I’m a creative, problem-solver, but I’m at a loss. What can I do so we can turn this nation around? Perhaps give them more of a stake in their nation-building: more votes, more persuasion, more debates and consensus.

And, if you do guest teach for me, one word of advice: get vaccinated. They bite.

What things really cost.

My post yesterday was kind of a downer; I was feeling kind of deflated. It came down to one of the most painful paradoxes of adulthood: sometimes the harder you work, the more is taken away from you. I had to really look at the cost of trying to “do it all,” and be all for everyone. Things, important things, get neglected. Big business has no heart or compassion for the human perspective. And, all over the news, teachers are more than ever on the front-lines of being blamed for all of society’s ills, and if we could just treat our students like products in a business, all would be fine. I scratch my head in wonder –it is all so illogical. We are still going through one of the biggest recessions in history. Why it’s not labeled a depression, I don’t know. It sure has all of the earmarks of a great depression. In any case, banks and mortgage firms, and evil criminals like Bernie Madoff say, “Oops, my bad. Sorry. Now, where’s that bonus?”

I am not necessarily against performance pay. I am not necessarily for it. But I do know that every endeavor has a hidden cost. For example, you go to the store to buy some ice cream (mmmm…..ice cream…..). The ice cream costs 4.99 plus tax. But that doesn’t include the gas it took to get there. The time your mom spent driving you, when she could have been at work, doing laundry, or writing her doctoral thesis. There are costs to everything we do, including just sitting in a room breathing.

We can only imagine what the hidden costs may be exacted from everyone desperately trying to fix education. I know for myself, in trying to fix things, I’ve broken a few things, too. And there are some things you can’t put back together.

Omelet, anyone?

Deadline.

I’ve been doing a post-a-day faithfully since January 1, 2010. I skipped yesterday’s post. Instead, I spent from about 8am-3pm writing for one of my own personal BIG projects. And then I went with my family to watch “Alice in Wonderland” at the IMAX theatre in 3-D. (Kind of a disappointment, but visually breathtaking. Maybe Mrs. Wagner is right, and Tim Burton should just stick to set design; he can’t pick scripts.)

ANYWAY…in order to meet a big deadline, things, life, people, have been pushed aside while I focus on this…ONE….BIG….THING….and it does have a hard and fast deadline.

“Deadline” sounds so much more ominous than “due date.” Due date sounds kind of like, well, great if you get it done, but if not, it’s flexible. “Deadline” has the word “dead” in it, as in all life will cease to exist unless this task is completed on this metaphorical line. I keep thinking, “When this is over…I will…(fill in the blank).” The blank is filled in with everything from getting the oven fixed, paying bills on time, going shopping, spending more time with my sons, husband, and friends; spring-cleaning the house and writing the great American novel. (Or, at least a new script for “Alice”- maybe Burton can take a mulligan on that one.)

Sometimes I wonder if we (teachers) are doing you (students) a disservice when it comes to project-based learning. Project-based learning is when the assignments are layered, building on one another to create one final project, like our Burning Questions unit. You had several steps along the way, and for the most part, you did a really good job. But I’m sure some of your other classes’ work/assignments were pushed aside. Now that you’re done with that, your focus went to other classes. We really are poor at multi-tasking, no matter what we say. But maybe we should embrace this more, recognize it, admit it, and deal with it: wouldn’t it be great if in all of your classes, Math, Science, Social Studies, your Elective, Language Arts, and PE/Health, what you were learning was all connected at any one time? That’s called “integration.” It’s when your classes all work together to teach the BIG ideas.

For example, if you were studying Ancient Greece in World History, we would do our Greek mythology unit, and you would learn about Ancient Greece’s contributions to Math and Science, and maybe play Olympic style games in PE, and in your art elective, learn about classical art and architecture, and its influences on our own government buildings, including the White House. You would definitely have a deeper understanding of culture and influences over time, wouldn’t you?

Well, that’s just a dream of mine, to really have integrated curriculum, where you apply your learning across many areas. I cringe every time I have tried this and a student says, “This isn’t MATH CLASS!”

It’s not? Then why do I need to know how to read a bank statement, a mortgage loan document, understand my taxes, and be able to read contracts?

Those deadlines and due dates wouldn’t seem so scary if you knew that everything you were learning worked together, would they?

Deadlines and due dates aren’t going to go away. They will be part of your life from now on. When you work, you will have to meet goals in order to keep your job. Even if you’re a barista at Starbucks, they time you from when the order’s taken to the time you call the drink out to the customer. (I know, because I was a barista.) Each drink has specifications – extra foamy non-fat drinks need to weigh this many grams, and need to be at specific temperatures. And yes, there is a supervisor who comes around to all of the stores and checks to make sure you’re meeting quality standards. Thanks a latte.

In any job or career you choose there are standards and levels of quality performance. It may not be funny or fun to think about right now, and you don’t really have to. Dig into your learning now. I wish someone had said to me, “Gee, why don’t you go read a novel instead of cleaning the bathrooms?” but alas, that won’t happen.

Next time you’re grumbling about your free, public education with highly qualified teachers who are pushing you toward meeting and exceeding academic standards, perhaps you will think to yourself this is one deadline you can handle, and you don’t have to clean a toilet.

Brain matters.

Tim Burton Mars Attacks! Yes, Martians have attacked your brain! Well, not really. But being a teenager has. I have suspected and known most of this all along, but Miss C sent an article that really articulated (said it well and clearly) what is happening with your minds. I don’t mean to treat you like over-sized toddlers, but I must confess that many of my best parenting techniques derived from the time I had small children, and I draw on this knowledge to be a better teacher of young adults.

You need to learn about this, too, for your own care and maintenance:

You do need restful sleep.
You need healthy food, exercise, water, and laughter.
You need to read, think, consider, and ponder.
And you need to stay far, far away from addictive substances.

From National Public Radio: http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=124119468

More Vulnerable To Addiction

But that’s not the only big difference in teenagers’ brains. Nature made the brains of children and adolescents excitable. Their brain chemistry is tuned to be responsive to everything in their environment. After all, that’s what makes kids learn so easily.

But this can work in ways that are not so good. Take alcohol, for example. Or nicotine, cannabis, cocaine, ecstasy …

“Addiction has been shown to be essentially a form of ‘learning,’ ” Jensen says. After all, if the brain is wired to form new connections in response to the environment, and potent psychoactive drugs suddenly enter that environment, those substances are “tapping into a much more robust habit-forming ability that adolescents have, compared to adults.”

So studies have shown that a teenager who smokes pot will still show cognitive deficits days later. An adult who smokes the same dose will return to cognitive baseline much faster.

This bit of knowledge came in handy in Jensen’s own household.

“Most parents, they’ll say, ‘Don’t drink, don’t do drugs,'” says Will, son number two. “And I’m the type of kid who’d say ‘why?’ ”

When Will asked why, his mom could give him chapter and verse on drugs and teen brains. So they would know, she says, “that if I smoke pot tonight and I have an exam in two days’ time, I’m going to do worse. It’s a fact.”

See? Your brains want to learn. That’s why if you get bored in school, it’s your brain’s fault. It’s looking for stimulation, for excitement. But don’t go to false and dangerous ‘entertainment.’ That’s how you kill your brains.

This is a good news/bad news kind of thing: the good news is I know you want to learn new things. It feels right, even at my age. I try to keep my own brain flexible so I don’t get “old-minded.” The bad news is you blame me when you’re bored sometimes. Think about all the television and movies you watch, and all the other media “intake” you do. You are training your brain to be bored. You need to read more, because this will get your brain connected to YOUR LIFE – not the lives of the fake people in the electronic box. You need to write for the same reason – you should control the script for your life, not have someone else write your story for you.

Just think about it, that’s all I’m asking.

Confrontation.

How much confrontation should a teacher engage? Do we do the Queen Victoria thing, the “We are not amused” blank look? Or, do we get in there and mix it up a little, regressing to our former adolescent selves?

I know the mature answer is to pull a Queen Victoria, but when I have a student, a child, who is on their own emotional tailspin path spiraling toward destruction, in that moment, I go more Queen of Hearts than Victoria, and in that battle–no one wins.

And what are the spoils of war, the boons, that I am seeking? What do I want to get out of a confrontation? Do I secretly think the student will stop the tantrum, turn to me and say, “Gee, Mrs. L. You’re right! You are so wise, kind, and insightful–you have changed my life!” (Cue angelic halo…music swells, cheers from the other observing students, watching the melee, off shore through heavy lenses.)

There is not a teacher out there who has not had some form of confrontation with a student, no matter the age. I’ve heard that has students grow older, into high school, the confrontations decrease significantly. I’m sure there are many factors, including just a hefty dash of time and maturity. Maybe they don’t see teachers so much as an extension of their parents, as adversaries.

In any case, these tussles get me down, wear me down. I guess I’d better grow up.

Misconception.

Conception: the birth of an idea, an understanding:

So, it would stand to reason, that the word “misconception” means a wrong idea.

The other day, a very curious and inquisitive student asked me, during a quiet moment in the library, “Would we die if we run out of oil, because our bodies need it?”

Huh?

I didn’t even know where to begin to unravel this one. Somewhere along the way of his journey between two cultures and two languages, he got the notion that somehow humans had OIL, as in fossil fuels, dinosaur guts, T-Rex juice, in their bodies, and that when it ran out, we would die as a species. I know this is what he thought, because I clarified at least this much.

I said no, humans would not die per se if oil runs out. What would happen is our cars, trucks, and other forms of transportation would cease to run as they are engineered now. He then said something about plastics…are we plastic?

No. We are not plastic. We will not die if we run out of oil. If anything, we might go back to horse and buggy days.

Really? Wow.

So much of teaching has nothing to do with ‘teaching.’ It has nothing to do with meetings, no child left behind, state tests, data, or whether or not they have a pencil. Teaching is in those moments where the misconceptions are revealed, the background knowledge steered, and the conversation is safe, and no one is made to feel stupid.

But I still ask, how did this young man, who is bright, come to think that humans have oil in their bodies?

How does this happen? Perhaps if we explore these questions in our tough, “fire all the teachers” current state of education, we should just stop for a moment, and have a little time to just read. To talk. To think.

To clear up misunderstandings.

Short-cut.

Okay, I admit; this feels a little like cheating.

Every new post Mr. Spenser writes, I read. He teaches basically the same content I do, and the same kinds of kids. When I read some success, or struggle, he’s had, it helps me reflect and think about what’s working, or not, in our classroom.

So, the cheating part comes when I read one of his posts, and I want you to read it, too, word for word:

http://jtspencer.blogspot.com/2010/03/connecting.html

See, I know you, my students, can have these great discussions, too. I know there’s more to you than superficial posturing. I know you have a lot on your mind.

So–when we have an entry task, I will remind you again:

Let yourself think, and let others think. Like Mr. Spenser said, thinking doesn’t always look like working, but if you’re talking to others and not allowing them to think/work, then you’re not working. You know who you are.

When you are thinking, write it. The connections happen when we talk about our thoughts. We always do. There is hardly a moment when we don’t share out our thoughts about the entry task question, or we don’t take it someplace for our learning.

I hate to see good brain cells go to waste.

Penelope: Step away from the loom and no one will get hurt.

I am in the middle of a BIG project right now. I just call it the BIG project. It’s BIG. It’s expensivem, and it’s all-consuming.

Smart Penelope, in an effort to ward off unwanted suitors, used the ruse of weaving a burial cloth for her father-in-law Laertes, and when she was done, she would choose. Cleverly, it was unwoven every night.

I am unintentionally unraveling myself every night. Every night, I think about the BIG project. Every moment, I think about the BIG project. I write a little bit. I edit a little bit. I read a little bit and try to make sense of the pattern, the weave, or the texture.

What colors do they want? Do they want something complicated, or will they understand some of the nuances? Do I explain everything to the point of over explanation, or are my sequenced commentary, albeit BORING, sufficient to jumping through the flaming hoops? They are the suitors. And somewhat unwanted. But the end result will be worth this journey.

I hope.

A trusted colleague reminded me this BIG project doesn’t really make one a better teacher, although many teacher say it does. I can’t really imagine how; I feel like I was already there, and in some ways, this process hinders my authentic connections with my students. I make an emotional note to myself that every time a student gives me a smile, is excited to work on a project, or shares some burden or joy. I cannot weave those textures into the BIG shroud. Those stitches hold me together, keep me believing, in myself, and what I do.

Dang. Now that’s really BIG.

Category: Being a better teacher