Changing Channels

Okay, so,...I've just not chosen the right kind of book for me...again. I'm sorry I don't have some fabulous book to tell you about. I will tell you, instead, about what I learned from a book I didn't particularly like.

The Water is Wide was written in 1972 by Pat Conroy. While it is sometimes classified as fiction, it is actually a memoir. Conroy was a young teacher, back in 1969, who decided to teach on an isolated island off the coast of South Carolina. The book tells about his experiences in teaching the children on the island for a year. The children he taught were all African-American children ranging in age from 10 - 13 years old with different learning styles and difficulties to overcome. Not an easy task, I assure you, but he was fortunate there were only 18 of them in his school room. 

(I'm pausing,...wondering exactly how to approach what I have to say next...)

While I cannot imagine what his experience was like, I can say that he could've done a much better job. I guess standing in a classroom in 2017 with more than 30 students at a time, which sometimes includes students with learning disabilities and reading levels that range from second grade to twelfth grade, I look at Conroy's story with a raised eyebrow. 

While his stories are interesting and well-written, I found him greatly lacking as a teacher,...and I just couldn't get past it. In fact, there are times he seems to be trying to justify his lack of structure and academics in the classroom. What he describes is more like a daycare than a school room. I didn't really have a problem with some of the adventures he exposed the students to or the guests he invited to the island to bring the outside world in, but I didn't feel he was giving the children the structure and feeling of safety they needed to learn. 

I do not recommend this book, unless you want to read it as a "how a teacher shouldn't do things" kind of book. While it was depressing to think of how backwards some white people thought and talked back in "those days" (and the racial slurs were far too abundant and unnecessary in the book), it was absolutely heartbreaking for me to think of those children looking to Conroy for guidance and structure and an education that would help them move beyond their own borders, while he's busy putting on the next film or using the same inappropriate language with the children that he allows them to use. In my opinion, his own words make it seem more like he was a playmate than a teacher.

This is the second "bad call" I've made on a book and both lured me in with the hope that I would gain some knowledge and insight about how to grow and improve as a teacher. I have learned something, though. In fact, I've learned two things: 1) No more "teacher books" for awhile and, when I am finally ready for one, I'll wait for a recommendation from a trusted friend in education. 2) Having a degree in education and working in a school does not make you a teacher. Not by a long shot.  

And last, but not least, someone should have told Pat Conroy that no matter how wide the water is, true educators find a way to build a bridge.

(Now, please excuse me while I go find something pleasant to read so I can change the channel in my brain.)

A Fierce Battle Cry!

Every year I struggle with the same battle. I know it's coming, I even brace myself for it, but every year it gets the best of me...for a little while.

When I was in my senior year of college, I had a professor ask me an important question one day: What do you think is going to be the most difficult part of being a teacher? I didn't hesitate in my answer because I already knew. I told him the most difficult part for me would be the changing policies and the "red-tape" of public education. I knew that some things would change according to who was in control of my country, my state, and my school district. You know, the ones making the "rules" by which I teach and decide what I teach to my students...but don't walk in my shoes, teach in a classroom every day, and understand the individual needs of each student.

I was correct in my answer.

I am now several years into my heart's desire to be a teacher, and I can honestly say there is nothing I would rather do than teach children. I can also say that every year before school starts, I feel the same pressure build up in me that has nothing to do with the children I teach or the resources I need to teach them. It has nothing to do with the people I work with or the amount of money I have to spend in order for my classroom to have the things it needs. It also has nothing to do with the children, no matter who they are or where they come from or how great their educational need may be.

It has everything to do with how much "the rules of the game" change...constantly.

The problem is...teaching children isn't a game. It's a battle. Not a battle WITH the children, a battle FOR the children. It is a battle to be heard, as a classroom teacher, among all the "experts" of every new learning technique, new curriculum, new sequences of learning, and new trend of the day. It is a beat-down to hear how we've been "doing it wrong" and now need to "do it right" according to who is in charge now.

Please don't get me wrong. I am all for changing for the better. I am not a teacher who is married to whatever textbook or novel or grade-level lesson I teach in my classroom. I can teach anything. In fact, I am a lifelong learner who enjoys new things and new ideas. The problem I have is that, as a college-educated professional in the field of education, shouldn't I be somewhat trusted to do my job and know what is in the best interest of my students? Isn't that what I went to college for? Isn't that why I continue to take professional development classes over my summers and during the school year?

I get all tangled up every year in all the expectations put before me in my week of inservice before school starts. I pay attention to every change I need to make, every bit of data I need to look at, and get copies of all the new policies and procedures. I listen to all the presenters, take notes, get copies of power points, and... I do as I am told. You see, I'm a good student, I learn well, and I obey the rules. It is my nature, always has been. I try to do it all with a smile on my face, but sometimes...it almost breaks me.

Then, a wonderful thing happens...

Just when I am beat-down the most and think they may have finally pressed the last breath of joy out of my chest, just when my spirit feels bruised and battered and defeated - I find myself on the eve of...

The First Day of School.

I know, on this most holy of holy educational days, I will be greeting precious new faces who will look to me to teach them, guide them, and be a good example to them every school day. It will matter what I wear and how I present myself to those children. Every word that comes out of my mouth, for the next nine months or so, matters in the life of a child - of many children. They watch me, they listen, and they learn. I also watch them, listen to them, and learn from them.

This is what is important. My students are what is important. Not the policy-makers, not who is in charge, not the state I live in. The children who look to me are all that matters. Will I do all the other things that are expected of me by my administrators, my school district, my state, and my country? Absolutely. I will do them to the best of my ability, but I can't ever let all those other "things" beat me down to the point that I forget what I'm really fighting for on the front lines every single day! I'm fighting the good fight to ensure that my students receive a great education to give them a better, brighter future!

So, tomorrow morning when you hear my loud, fierce, battle cry, let it serve as a reminder to send up prayers and good thoughts to our nation's teachers who are fighting on the front lines every school day for our country's children.

"God bless us, every one!"

What's In A Name?

Whether you like the name your parents gave you or not, it is a source of identification for you. When someone calls out your name, you answer to it. Your name is important. When you own something and you want others to know it's yours, you put your name on it. Think about it.

It starts out when you're little. Your parents write your name on everything - sometimes, they even hang it up in your room. As you grow, you learn to write your name. You begin labeling the world around you so others know which stuff is your stuff. You put your name on toys, lunch boxes, notebooks, library cards, homework assignments, school gym clothes, athletic equipment, and so on.

It doesn't stop when you get older. Heck, no. The stuff you have to put your name on just gets bigger and more expensive. If you own a house, there is a deed that has your name on it. If you own a car, your name is on the registration. If you lease an apartment or a car, there is still paperwork that shows you are the temporary owner. 

Like I said, your name is important.

Where am I going with this? I'll tell you. I'm going to share a lesson I learned about names this summer. Now is the perfect time to blog about it because school is about to start again. For some of you, it may have already started. Yes, now is a good time to talk about names. 

If you are a student, you will be meeting new teachers and making new friends,...and you'll need to learn their names. If you are a teacher, like I am, you will meet new students and welcome them to the learning environment of a classroom you will share with them over the school year. In case you didn't know, a school year is a long time to share a classroom with students, which is why we're going to talk about names.

I took an educational workshop this summer which was great! The instructor was excellent, the ideas he shared were wonderful, and he gave us all some valuable tools for improving our teaching. Funny thing is, though, one of the most important things I learned was taught first thing, the first morning and the lesson was carried throughout the week. I'm still asking myself if the instructor taught it with intent or by accident. 

First morning of our class, the instructor had us pair up (in a class of 24) and briefly interview each other. This was an out-of-district workshop, so we were from all different school districts. We didn't know each other. He gave us basic questions to ask and added a couple of minutes for additional questions.

After our interviews, he had us volunteer to stand up and introduce our partner to the class and tell something about them we'd learned. Our partner would then introduce us to the class. To encourage people to volunteer quickly, and not drag the exercise out too long, he said that when you stand to introduce your partner, you must FIRST say the names and re-introduce the people who were introduced before you. In other words, the first ones to volunteer would have less names to remember than the last ones. The last pair would have to introduce the first 22 before introducing each other.

Now, if you're already saying, "Ugh!" because you don't think you're very good with names and would hate this exercise, please allow me to explain two things: 

1) The instructor did not do this to test our memory skills. He did it to help us get to know each other and give us a sense of community. It's an important thing to do when you've thrown 24 adult teachers together in the middle of their summer vacation, and you only have a week to give them something worthwhile. 

2) The instructor never said we couldn't take notes or use something to accommodate our learning. (Accommodating a student's learning is something all teachers should know how to do. It's when you give a student extra tools to help them learn something. The student learns the same thing, just in a different way - in their own learning style. We don't all learn the same, you know.)

Before I go any further, I want to say that I wish I could have videotaped what happened next. I don't think any words I use will truly do justice to the lesson, but I will try. You see, the same thing happened with a group of college educated adults as happens with a group of sixth graders (or any grade level you'd like to insert). Yes, I know it shouldn't happen that way,...but it does. As Mark Twain said, "Truth is stranger than fiction."

The introductions started off easy enough. The first ones to go had the easiest time, of course, before some started to panic and tried to raise their hands the fastest to try to get it over with. I decided to let my partner choose when she was ready for us to volunteer. I was ready at any time, but she was rather shy and quiet. I gave her the lead. 

As we sat and watched others introduced, I saw many different types of "students" in the teachers. There were a few adults who did as the instructor asked and used notes they'd made to make sure they got the introductions correct. Some had drawn blocks for seats and inserted names. Others had used numbers on the seats to remember who was who. They used their notes when they introduced, but looked up from the notes and acknowledged the others. Out of 24 adult teachers, there were 6 who did this. 

As for the rest of the class, it was...a circus of excuses. One guy stood and said he just didn't do it. He pointed to his partner and said, "She can do it. I didn't see the point." Another teacher pointed to her partner and said, "Yeah, what she said," then chuckled and went on with introducing her partner. One teacher actually said, "I'm a Special Ed teacher, so I don't HAVE to do it." There were several who had written down the names on a list, without knowing who was who, and stood to quickly read their list - never acknowledging who the person was - it was just a name on a piece of paper.

Now, if you're wondering where I fit in to this scheme, I'll tell you. First of all, I had an unfair advantage over most of these people. You see, I already knew the importance of someone's name. I love words, after all, and names are words...and - as I've already stated to make sure you get my point - names are important. My first priority, as a teacher, is to learn my students' names (and know them well) as quickly as possible. I know how I learn best, so I used the same method for the instructor's exercise as I do in my classroom.

When people began introducing each other, I wrote down their names on a piece of paper. I looked at the written name and looked at the person. I didn't glance at them, I really looked at them and paid attention to who they were and how their partner described them. I then looked at the name again - seeing it written has always helped me. I am also a spatial learner, so I paid attention to where that person was located in the room from where I was seated. As each person stood and introduced the rest of the class, I practiced in my head remembering who was who.

When my partner decided she was ready to volunteer, most of the class had already been introduced. While she was ready for us to do our introductions, she was still nervous and asked me to go first. I had to introduce the 20 people in the class that went before me. I didn't use my notes because, by then, I knew who they were. I had been practicing in my own head. I knew their faces, knew their expressions, and...knew more about their personalities than they would have guessed. ;)

I took a deep breath and began my introductions at the back of the room. I went in order of their seats and introduced each person. I made eye contact with them when I said their names. I smiled at them, with my mouth and with my eyes, and let them know I knew who they were. I took my time, I didn't rush. Everyone responded well to my introductions, they all smiled back. They also seemed to silently cheer, as the introduction list got longer, that I would make it to the end without a mistake. I saw encouraging looks and the sparkle of anticipation in the next person's eyes I met - hoping I would get their name correct...and a look of relief and happiness when I did.

I have to point out that the "toughest case" in the room was a teacher who'd been teaching many years and was older than me. She was one of the ones who'd read the names off quickly from a list and never made eye contact with anyone. She sat on the second back row and had already shown pride in her sharp tongue that morning. She had a lovely name and, when I spoke it and smiled at her, it was evident I liked the pleasant sound of it coming from my lips. 

What did she do?

She beamed at me like a kindergarten student on the first day of school when they hear the teacher call their name! She loved being acknowledged, knowing I knew who she was, and that I had said her name correctly and in a loving manner. Still grinning at me, she even gave me a nod of approval at the end. Of all the "naming" moments, I will never forget that one. I will never forget that teacher's name or what she taught me.

No matter who you are or what walk of life you come from, you want someone to know your name. If you spend any length of time with them (say, daily class time?), you expect them to know your name. You want it pronounced correctly. You want to be acknowledged. We all do. When someone knows your name, it means they notice you. It means you are important enough that they took the time and effort to learn one simple truth about you - your name.

I would also like to point out how our instructor, like any great teacher, played the introduction game with us - taking his turn at re-introducing people a few times during the process. He modeled his expectations. He would even add something extra he'd noticed from an introduction, too, like "This is Caren with a C, who loves Twizzlers!" At the end of all the introductions, he went back and re-introduced each person in a quick, fun, casual way. He was learning as we were learning. Throughout the workshop, he always addressed us by our names.

Cynthia and her kindergarten teacher

What's in a name?
Recognition. Respect. Relationship.

If you're a teacher, it's imperative you recognize your students and know their names. There is a level of respect you are showing a child, the same respect you'd like from them, when you know their name and say it correctly.  You need to have a good relationship with your students in order to maximize their ability to learn from you.

What's in a name?
Recognition. Respect. Relationship.

It's important...to all of us.

One final note:

While I chose to use my 19-year-old daughter's kindergarten photos to illustrate this blog, I want to be sure and state I am a middle school teacher. I have had up to 140 students in a school year and, yes, I always learn their names (first and last), know how to spell them, and how to pronounce them. If it is a difficult name for me to pronounce, I practice and let the student know I'm trying and to be a little patient with me until I get it exactly right. I use all the things I mentioned to help me learn. I find that writing the name down in a seating chart gives me both a visual of the name and a spatial reference to the student. I also do what our instructor did, saying the name of a student every chance I get. By the end of the first week of school, I usually know most of my students' names. Why? You should have guessed by now - because it's important to my students, which means it is important to me.