Sometimes we have to remind ourselves of this simple fact: teachers make a difference. A huge difference. But how can you tell if your time and energy counts for anything? How do you record the results of those long, thankless hours invested in grading papers, designing curriculum, and sometimes, wiping noses? I sometimes see the results of my influence in the success of my students after they graduate. Many come back to visit me from this university, or from that job experience. This year I’ve had alumni come to visit at least once a week. They love to share how well they are doing, or how much they like, and sometimes dislike, their jobs. I make a deal with my students on the first day they take one of my courses: if they should experience any success using the skills I have taught them, I don’t want any public recognition, I only ask for homemade tamales.
Friday I had an alumni visitor who almost didn’t graduate high school after and incident with one of our security officers. The student had made a typically bad kid decision, and was headed for expulsion. He is a big boy and the security officer who didn’t know him personally had felt threatened by his size. I went to the hearing and vouched for the boy I knew explaining his demeanor in class and the quality of work he had completed. The student was allowed to return and graduated with his class. Although this student spent at least one hour of every day of his high school career attending one of my courses, it was probably my presence at his time of greatest need that made the most difference to his ultimate success. He did not bring me tamales.
The week before a student from the same graduating class dropped by on her way back to UCSB after Thanksgiving. She is working on campus as a graphic designer while she completes her bachelor’s degree and plans on graduating in 2007. Then its off to NYU for law school. I wrote her a letter of recommendation for her undergraduate application to NYU and she was accepted (not due to my letter, she was and is a phenomenal student). However she chose to stay in California. In high school she participated as a cheerleader, in mock trial, and other activities, but it was what she learned in my classroom that is now helping support her college career. She didn’t bring me tamales either.
There are many others. The firefighter, the stereo installer, the two in film school, and the one at Stanford. Whenever I am feeling ineffectual. Whenever I am discouraged or feeling down, I try to think about the success stories that I have enjoyed the privilege of participating in (well perhaps not the stereo installer, not yet anyway.) Many teachers ask this question daily, sometimes hourly, “is it worth it?” Is the endeavor of teaching the young worth my time and energy? Sometimes it doesn’t feel like choosing teaching is worth the long thankless hours, the endless number of hoops to jump through, and the systemic disrespect for the profession. That’s most clearly reflected in our insulting pay schedule. But then, teaching is not about the pay schedule. Teaching is about making a difference.
Teaching was not my first choice. I was hung up on “those who can’t do…” I was on my way to a career as a television producer when I realized that I did not want to spend my life selling soap. After my wife and my father encouraged me to substitute part time I was hooked. I had a better feeling of satisfaction after my first day subbing then I ever had doing anything else. Plus, I had fun when I was in the classroom. I enjoyed the environment, the activities, and most importantly, the relationships that I began to forge with my students, even as a substitute. Once I got my first contract assignment the good feeling that I got from teaching grew exponentially. Even today I look at my students as more than just seat fillers. More than just identification numbers or faceless names on a roll sheet. The students are people who I get to help become better human beings. I love the beginning of the school year because it is the starting point of a wonderful rollercoaster ride the ends even better it starts. I hate the end of the school year because that’s when I have to say goodbye. I am cursed because I made fun of my fourth grade teacher, the first male teacher I was assigned, who shed a noticeable tear on the last day of school. Regardless of the painful emotions I sometimes feel, I wouldn’t want any other career.
Think about the most influential people in your life. After your parents and religious leaders, most of us point to the teachers we had growing up. Life began for me in the 7th grade when my drama teacher cast me in the school play. Up until then I had felt like a lost, lonely, loser. I wasn’t good at sports, didn’t feel popular, and hadn’t found my niche. But with the help of a teacher, I not only found my niche, but I also began to grow emotionally and gain confidence. Confidence that spread beyond the stage into the rest of my classes and other areas of my life. Without the influence of a teacher who chose not to dwell on the mental fatigue, the pointless in-service days, or the “great pay,” but instead rested on his belief that what he did actually meant something in the lives of his students, I would not be writing this now. I certainly would not have chose teaching, and instead of working with kids, would be the worlds greatest television soap-salesman (I added world’s greatest for effect only, not ego.) What a disappointment that would have been to the visitor I had Friday, the UCSB student, the firefighter, the two in film school, the one at Stanford, even the stereo installer, and all the others. I am glad I chose to teach.
Please post comments below.
December 18, 2005
December 16, 2005
Veteran desensitization?
Teachers with even a few years in the classroom can easily begin to feel desensitized to the pain and suffering of their young students. Teachers often joke together in the staff lounge about what an “idiot” so and so is, or what a “rotten” family little Johnny must come from. But that’s just a sad attempt to relieve the tension that builds up day after day, year after year from the struggle of fighting knee deep in the muck of the classroom battle.
It’s almost like post-traumatic stress. I don’t go in the staff lounge anymore. In fact I am rarely seen in the office at all. It’s not that I am anti-social, or that I don’t value the company of my colleagues. No, I stay away because too often when I am in the presence of other teachers, especially ones I share students with, I am shocked, disappointed, and sometimes dismayed at they way other teachers, good teachers, experienced and successful teachers talk about their students. Rarely do I hear shared stories of hope and proud moments of success. I know these people care about the students because I know their hearts. I know why they got into teaching. I have seen the fruits of their labors in the students they sometimes insult. So why do teachers bash the very souls they are committed to saving?
One of my mentors, and very close friends, use to refer to the school we worked at as “The Factory.” The students lined up in front of his classroom before he allowed them to enter (this was middle school.) The desks were lined up in even rows with students seated alphabetically. He had a refined system of grading and never took work home because he was able to fit it in during the class day. He was an accomplished and decorated teacher who taught me as a youth and had a major impact on my life. He was one of the reasons I chose to teach. I even took over his assignment when I was hired for my first job. I knew his heart. I could see it when at 12 years old I sat in his classroom and learned from his lessons. I was inspired then. How could this be the same man who now equated his workday with automobile assembly? Had he changed from the man I admired, and the teacher I respected? After many years in the classroom, after the exhausting repetition of a six-period day, bell schedule, and seemingly revolving door or pain-stricken, hate-mongering, resentment-filled, loud and sometimes obnoxious pupils, well, he built up tolerance.
A teacher who tries to “handle” their students will quickly fail. It’s not our jobs. Yes they are in pain, and yes we want to take the pain away, but we cannot, and should not. Pain is a natural part of life and an important part of growth. If it doesn’t hurt, I don’t change it. This is the hardest part of teaching for me; watching people I care about hurt. Sometimes the pain is purposeful and leads to a positive conclusion, like childbirth. Other times the pain seems to go on and on without direction as the student makes one poor decision after another. Despite our best efforts, from the general talk-around-the-issue-soap-box-moments in the classroom, to those private, frank and very direct chats outside the classroom door, teachers give all that we have to our students to try and support them through their “education.”
Perhaps the largest misstep in education today is the over-emphasis on test scores and the seemingly complete disregard for character education. But that’s a different topic all together.
So after years of giving 100% to our students, seeing one class end and another class begin, we grow tired of suffering with our kids. At the end of the school year the students move on with their lives while we stay in the same place, the same classroom, at the same school, teaching the same subject to a brand new set of student the following fall. We know the cycle repeats, and yet we get frustrated when the new students don’t start where we know we finished with the former group. All of that time and energy invested, and then we have to begin it all over again. It’s easy to get discouraged, easy to become frustrated, easy to burn out.
After the 28th “Jenny” to receive a progress report because she missed 30 of 45 class days in the quarter comes in to ask if she can make up work before school and promises to come in early never shows up the teacher tends to anticipate the possibility that “Jenny” is not going to pass, no matter what the teacher does to help. I’m not as shocked as I once was when a student fails my class, but with every “F” I bubble I wonder what else I could have done? With every student who falls behind, never to catch up on their make-up work, I wonder how I could have accommodated them better. Failing a student for any reason is always painful for the teacher, no matter how long they have taught.
Our sensitivity to the student’s condition must never fade, never fail. If a teacher loses his or her compassion for the people within their realm of influence, then all is lost. It isn’t easy when teachers are so disrespected. One of my colleagues was “shushed” by a 9th grade student in his own classroom this week. Shushed! Because 21st century society does not celebrate teachers or public education many kids do not see the value of their so-called educational experience. What they don’t value they don’t appreciate. Well-intended good-spirited teachers often receive the blunt force trauma of the wild emotions of out-of-control youth who lash out of their emotional desperation without concern for who they injure. Over time teachers learn to protect themselves from the pain and suffering they share through empathy with their students, but they never lose sensitivity.
Please post your comments below.
It’s almost like post-traumatic stress. I don’t go in the staff lounge anymore. In fact I am rarely seen in the office at all. It’s not that I am anti-social, or that I don’t value the company of my colleagues. No, I stay away because too often when I am in the presence of other teachers, especially ones I share students with, I am shocked, disappointed, and sometimes dismayed at they way other teachers, good teachers, experienced and successful teachers talk about their students. Rarely do I hear shared stories of hope and proud moments of success. I know these people care about the students because I know their hearts. I know why they got into teaching. I have seen the fruits of their labors in the students they sometimes insult. So why do teachers bash the very souls they are committed to saving?
One of my mentors, and very close friends, use to refer to the school we worked at as “The Factory.” The students lined up in front of his classroom before he allowed them to enter (this was middle school.) The desks were lined up in even rows with students seated alphabetically. He had a refined system of grading and never took work home because he was able to fit it in during the class day. He was an accomplished and decorated teacher who taught me as a youth and had a major impact on my life. He was one of the reasons I chose to teach. I even took over his assignment when I was hired for my first job. I knew his heart. I could see it when at 12 years old I sat in his classroom and learned from his lessons. I was inspired then. How could this be the same man who now equated his workday with automobile assembly? Had he changed from the man I admired, and the teacher I respected? After many years in the classroom, after the exhausting repetition of a six-period day, bell schedule, and seemingly revolving door or pain-stricken, hate-mongering, resentment-filled, loud and sometimes obnoxious pupils, well, he built up tolerance.
A teacher who tries to “handle” their students will quickly fail. It’s not our jobs. Yes they are in pain, and yes we want to take the pain away, but we cannot, and should not. Pain is a natural part of life and an important part of growth. If it doesn’t hurt, I don’t change it. This is the hardest part of teaching for me; watching people I care about hurt. Sometimes the pain is purposeful and leads to a positive conclusion, like childbirth. Other times the pain seems to go on and on without direction as the student makes one poor decision after another. Despite our best efforts, from the general talk-around-the-issue-soap-box-moments in the classroom, to those private, frank and very direct chats outside the classroom door, teachers give all that we have to our students to try and support them through their “education.”
Perhaps the largest misstep in education today is the over-emphasis on test scores and the seemingly complete disregard for character education. But that’s a different topic all together.
So after years of giving 100% to our students, seeing one class end and another class begin, we grow tired of suffering with our kids. At the end of the school year the students move on with their lives while we stay in the same place, the same classroom, at the same school, teaching the same subject to a brand new set of student the following fall. We know the cycle repeats, and yet we get frustrated when the new students don’t start where we know we finished with the former group. All of that time and energy invested, and then we have to begin it all over again. It’s easy to get discouraged, easy to become frustrated, easy to burn out.
After the 28th “Jenny” to receive a progress report because she missed 30 of 45 class days in the quarter comes in to ask if she can make up work before school and promises to come in early never shows up the teacher tends to anticipate the possibility that “Jenny” is not going to pass, no matter what the teacher does to help. I’m not as shocked as I once was when a student fails my class, but with every “F” I bubble I wonder what else I could have done? With every student who falls behind, never to catch up on their make-up work, I wonder how I could have accommodated them better. Failing a student for any reason is always painful for the teacher, no matter how long they have taught.
Our sensitivity to the student’s condition must never fade, never fail. If a teacher loses his or her compassion for the people within their realm of influence, then all is lost. It isn’t easy when teachers are so disrespected. One of my colleagues was “shushed” by a 9th grade student in his own classroom this week. Shushed! Because 21st century society does not celebrate teachers or public education many kids do not see the value of their so-called educational experience. What they don’t value they don’t appreciate. Well-intended good-spirited teachers often receive the blunt force trauma of the wild emotions of out-of-control youth who lash out of their emotional desperation without concern for who they injure. Over time teachers learn to protect themselves from the pain and suffering they share through empathy with their students, but they never lose sensitivity.
Please post your comments below.
December 09, 2005
School is supposed to be fun?
Yes, school is suppose to be fun. The more fun you have teaching, the more fun the students will have learning. There is nothing more miserable than sitting for 55 minutes desperately trying to pay attention to a miserable lecture proffered by a miserable instructor who is clearly disengaged from the subject and lacks all compassion for his or her students. It’s no wonder kids fall asleep in class. We used to call it the “Gurst” position.
Mr. Gurst was my freshman and senior year English teacher. He was a brilliant writer, but a boring orator. He literarily spoke in a monotone all the time. Now, Mr. Gurst was very influential in my young life. He rode his bicycle to school everyday. There was a time when I rode my bicycle to school everyday. Very cool. But Mr. Gurst liked to read to his English classes. When he did, it was all any of us could do to stay awake. It was brutal. Imagine Great Expectations read for an hour daily by Ben Stein. Pretty close comparison. So as a means of survival, we developed a way of looking like we were paying attention, when really we were out cold. We would place our elbows on the desk, point our palms straight up, and rest our cheeks upon them. See, in this position, the Gurst position, the instructor cannot see the pupils eyeballs. Therefore, we were able to look like we were engrossed in Dickens, when really, we were dreaming of skateboarding and burgers at In-N-Out. We got away with the Gurst position for a very long time. Until one day we were exposed. One of us (me) was caught drooling on the novel. That was the end of the Gurst position at my high school. But the Gurst position lives on where I teach now. I’ve taught it my students as a survival mechanism for their duller courses.
But none of our courses should be dull to anyone. If we love teaching then we should love every moment we spend teaching. You know when a lesson isn’t working. I know when kids tune me out. I hate it. Headphones drive me crazy and I don’t allow my students to wear them in the classroom. Once the headphones are on, the world is tuned out. We cannot let our students tune us out. So what do we do? If you are a teacher who often finds their students with their headphones on, or assuming the "Gurst" position, then it’s time to freshen up your shtick.
If no one has told you so far, it’s ok to have fun in your classroom. Think back to your own favorite K-12 teachers and classes. I will bet that the ones you remember most are the ones where the teacher was passionate about teaching. The subject was exciting and every new idea you had was cherished. You had fun. Do you have fun in your classroom now? Do you laugh with your students? Do you share your life’s experiences with the young, hungry minds of those entrusted to your care? You should.
Many English teachers agree that English is not the most entertaining subject to teach. Literature and writing can be a blast, but parts of speech and sentence structure, well. Sometimes the teacher needs to be very, very creative. But English is not nearly as dry as say Mathematics. I’m not a math teacher. But I have taken classes from math teachers who made math fun and exciting. My favorite high school math teacher was a man named Jim Costello. Jim had a way with teaching math. He could not only break math down into VERY manageable bite-size pieces, but he could also hook us into the daily subject matter through humor. His class was always fun, and I loved going. I haven’t loved math as much since.
Jim found a way to make his class fun, interesting, and most importantly, engaging. What do you do to engage your students and make your class fun? Do you try at all? Many teachers don’t. They just leave it up to the students to figure out. These are the same “educators” who regularly fail 50% of their students. Happens way too often in education today. I have had colleagues who approached the classroom in this manner. Fortunately few of them are still teaching. Teaching is hard enough without hating the classroom. If you hate the classroom, then chances are, your students hate you.
Don’t take that personally. You’re just not fun enough.
But you could be. You need to be. Entertainer is never listed in the job description. But whether you want to or not, whether you like it or not, if you are a teacher, you are an entertainer. Twenty four-seven our students are being entertained. Through television, the Internet, cell phones, iPods, magazines, and film, entertainment is the name of the game. If it doesn’t make me laugh, I’m not interested. If it doesn’t shock, I don’t care. Look at the way modern sitcoms are written; a laugh every ten seconds, and sometimes even more. The “one-liner” has been refined to an art. Attention spans run very short these days. So to expect any child of any age to sit and listen for any period of time is fighting against the wind. We can’t win this war. So if you can’t beat them….
DON’T join them. Strive to learn, understand, and master the “rules of engagement.” Structure your lesson plans and arrange your classroom to invite and entice your students to LEARN! We don’t all consider ourselves to be “dynamic in the classroom.” You don’t have to be a dynamo, but you do have to be invested. Kids know when we care, and when we don’t. When they know we care they can be very forgiving if things don’t always go the way we plan. But if we don’t care about the time we spend with our students neither will they, and that’s no fun at all.
For further discussion please check out this post.
Please post your comments below.
Mr. Gurst was my freshman and senior year English teacher. He was a brilliant writer, but a boring orator. He literarily spoke in a monotone all the time. Now, Mr. Gurst was very influential in my young life. He rode his bicycle to school everyday. There was a time when I rode my bicycle to school everyday. Very cool. But Mr. Gurst liked to read to his English classes. When he did, it was all any of us could do to stay awake. It was brutal. Imagine Great Expectations read for an hour daily by Ben Stein. Pretty close comparison. So as a means of survival, we developed a way of looking like we were paying attention, when really we were out cold. We would place our elbows on the desk, point our palms straight up, and rest our cheeks upon them. See, in this position, the Gurst position, the instructor cannot see the pupils eyeballs. Therefore, we were able to look like we were engrossed in Dickens, when really, we were dreaming of skateboarding and burgers at In-N-Out. We got away with the Gurst position for a very long time. Until one day we were exposed. One of us (me) was caught drooling on the novel. That was the end of the Gurst position at my high school. But the Gurst position lives on where I teach now. I’ve taught it my students as a survival mechanism for their duller courses.
But none of our courses should be dull to anyone. If we love teaching then we should love every moment we spend teaching. You know when a lesson isn’t working. I know when kids tune me out. I hate it. Headphones drive me crazy and I don’t allow my students to wear them in the classroom. Once the headphones are on, the world is tuned out. We cannot let our students tune us out. So what do we do? If you are a teacher who often finds their students with their headphones on, or assuming the "Gurst" position, then it’s time to freshen up your shtick.
If no one has told you so far, it’s ok to have fun in your classroom. Think back to your own favorite K-12 teachers and classes. I will bet that the ones you remember most are the ones where the teacher was passionate about teaching. The subject was exciting and every new idea you had was cherished. You had fun. Do you have fun in your classroom now? Do you laugh with your students? Do you share your life’s experiences with the young, hungry minds of those entrusted to your care? You should.
Many English teachers agree that English is not the most entertaining subject to teach. Literature and writing can be a blast, but parts of speech and sentence structure, well. Sometimes the teacher needs to be very, very creative. But English is not nearly as dry as say Mathematics. I’m not a math teacher. But I have taken classes from math teachers who made math fun and exciting. My favorite high school math teacher was a man named Jim Costello. Jim had a way with teaching math. He could not only break math down into VERY manageable bite-size pieces, but he could also hook us into the daily subject matter through humor. His class was always fun, and I loved going. I haven’t loved math as much since.
Jim found a way to make his class fun, interesting, and most importantly, engaging. What do you do to engage your students and make your class fun? Do you try at all? Many teachers don’t. They just leave it up to the students to figure out. These are the same “educators” who regularly fail 50% of their students. Happens way too often in education today. I have had colleagues who approached the classroom in this manner. Fortunately few of them are still teaching. Teaching is hard enough without hating the classroom. If you hate the classroom, then chances are, your students hate you.
Don’t take that personally. You’re just not fun enough.
But you could be. You need to be. Entertainer is never listed in the job description. But whether you want to or not, whether you like it or not, if you are a teacher, you are an entertainer. Twenty four-seven our students are being entertained. Through television, the Internet, cell phones, iPods, magazines, and film, entertainment is the name of the game. If it doesn’t make me laugh, I’m not interested. If it doesn’t shock, I don’t care. Look at the way modern sitcoms are written; a laugh every ten seconds, and sometimes even more. The “one-liner” has been refined to an art. Attention spans run very short these days. So to expect any child of any age to sit and listen for any period of time is fighting against the wind. We can’t win this war. So if you can’t beat them….
DON’T join them. Strive to learn, understand, and master the “rules of engagement.” Structure your lesson plans and arrange your classroom to invite and entice your students to LEARN! We don’t all consider ourselves to be “dynamic in the classroom.” You don’t have to be a dynamo, but you do have to be invested. Kids know when we care, and when we don’t. When they know we care they can be very forgiving if things don’t always go the way we plan. But if we don’t care about the time we spend with our students neither will they, and that’s no fun at all.
For further discussion please check out this post.
Please post your comments below.
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