Show me your label . . .
Dec. 28, 2019
We all have that student. For me, the student is a he. It isn't always, but the one I'm think about is, so it's the pronoun I'm going to use.
He walked in the first day of his 7th grade year.
The year before, I'd seen his name on our after-school detention list almost daily. His sister had been in my classroom, and she was a challenge to know and connect with. She'd told me he "was even worse". Teacher hall talk often included information about his latest infraction. When I saw his name on my class roster in early August, I'd pondered what I knew about him. I want to say that again. I pondered what I knew about him - not what I'd heard, not what I'd seen. Those are very, very different concepts.
Truth was - I knew nothing about him except he had a sister in my class the year before, and he'd had some difficulty with our school expectations as a 6th grader. What I didn't know about could have filled my classroom. I didn't know what the teachers had expected from him other than what our handbook says. I didn't know whether he felt more comfortable in classrooms with an older or younger teacher. I didn't know what his favorite color is. Truthfully? I didn't know what he looked like. I couldn't pick him out of most of the 7th graders who walked into his class period that day (I did have the benefit of already knowing a few).
I knew his labels: troublemaker, instigator, rude, disrespectful, stubborn . . . and the list went on. And in full disclosure, I made my seating chart so that he wasn't around students I knew to be talkative so that I didn't put this kiddo in a place that might offer him situations to demonstrate any of the labels. He knew the labels he had; he also knew I knew them. What I didn't know was how he felt about them - was he ready to prove them true or wrong?
I guessed he knew my labels: tough, high-expectations, demanding, loud . . . and others. I don't deny those labels; in fact, I embrace the first three. My expectations are high. I let students know exactly what they are. I am tough. I hold students accountable to maintain those expectations. Demanding? Yep. I demand students do the best they can. Now, that looks different for different students. I don't embrace the loud. It's who I am, and I'm working on it (but that's a different topic).
So in he walks - first day. He stands in the group of students at the front of the room, waiting on his seat placement. I get them into the seating chart, and I begin my typical first-day talk. Who I am, what I teach, why I teach, how excited I am to begin a new school year. Then comes their part - who are you and what's one thing you want me to know about you? For middle school students, this can be difficult. They are talking in front of their peers - what if they say or do something (they deem) embarrassing? When his turn comes, he gives me his name, and he says something about himself (I don't remember what it was, but for a lot of students it's their favorite color, the pet they have, or a sport they play).
The first couple of days were smooth. Then, the first month was. I remember joking with some boys where he was sitting, and they were joking back. He tentatively joined in. I learned his favorite color - blue. I learned he likes football, and he was working hard to keep his behavior on track so he could play. I learned about his dogs and that he likes to sing. He learned I like to laugh, and I really appreciate hearing my students' viewpoints when we're reading aloud.
As the year progressed, he had some trouble in some classes. But not in ours. He knew boundaries, and he respected them. I really appreciated watching him bloom in the classroom - asking questions, voicing opinions, helping others. On the last day of 7th grade, he came to me to say thanks. He told me he hoped he had me again in 8th grade (so did I, and it happened!!).
But it was his thanks that stopped me. Paraphrasing, he told me he knew his 6th grade year was rough. He started 7th grade, dreading what people might think of him. He knew his "friends" wanted him to be like he had - disruptive, disrespectful, rude. He also knew it wasn't who he wanted to be. Some people, he said, wouldn't believe he could change. Teachers had heard all those things, and he wasn't sure he'd get a good start. He said thanks for not believing all I'd heard, and for not expecting the student who matched what I'd heard. I smiled - and thanked him for not believing all he'd heard about me and for not expecting the teacher who matched what he'd heard.
Labels are needed - my kids need to know which cabinet has the scissors. They aren't needed for students. I want to figure my kids out, and I want them to have fresh starts. I also think it's important to not judge students based on some criteria. So a kid's acting out - do we know why? Or do we just say "troublemaker"?
Our students deserve more. Our students deserve better. We must #reachbeforeteach .
We all have that student. For me, the student is a he. It isn't always, but the one I'm think about is, so it's the pronoun I'm going to use.
He walked in the first day of his 7th grade year.
The year before, I'd seen his name on our after-school detention list almost daily. His sister had been in my classroom, and she was a challenge to know and connect with. She'd told me he "was even worse". Teacher hall talk often included information about his latest infraction. When I saw his name on my class roster in early August, I'd pondered what I knew about him. I want to say that again. I pondered what I knew about him - not what I'd heard, not what I'd seen. Those are very, very different concepts.
Truth was - I knew nothing about him except he had a sister in my class the year before, and he'd had some difficulty with our school expectations as a 6th grader. What I didn't know about could have filled my classroom. I didn't know what the teachers had expected from him other than what our handbook says. I didn't know whether he felt more comfortable in classrooms with an older or younger teacher. I didn't know what his favorite color is. Truthfully? I didn't know what he looked like. I couldn't pick him out of most of the 7th graders who walked into his class period that day (I did have the benefit of already knowing a few).
I knew his labels: troublemaker, instigator, rude, disrespectful, stubborn . . . and the list went on. And in full disclosure, I made my seating chart so that he wasn't around students I knew to be talkative so that I didn't put this kiddo in a place that might offer him situations to demonstrate any of the labels. He knew the labels he had; he also knew I knew them. What I didn't know was how he felt about them - was he ready to prove them true or wrong?
I guessed he knew my labels: tough, high-expectations, demanding, loud . . . and others. I don't deny those labels; in fact, I embrace the first three. My expectations are high. I let students know exactly what they are. I am tough. I hold students accountable to maintain those expectations. Demanding? Yep. I demand students do the best they can. Now, that looks different for different students. I don't embrace the loud. It's who I am, and I'm working on it (but that's a different topic).
So in he walks - first day. He stands in the group of students at the front of the room, waiting on his seat placement. I get them into the seating chart, and I begin my typical first-day talk. Who I am, what I teach, why I teach, how excited I am to begin a new school year. Then comes their part - who are you and what's one thing you want me to know about you? For middle school students, this can be difficult. They are talking in front of their peers - what if they say or do something (they deem) embarrassing? When his turn comes, he gives me his name, and he says something about himself (I don't remember what it was, but for a lot of students it's their favorite color, the pet they have, or a sport they play).
The first couple of days were smooth. Then, the first month was. I remember joking with some boys where he was sitting, and they were joking back. He tentatively joined in. I learned his favorite color - blue. I learned he likes football, and he was working hard to keep his behavior on track so he could play. I learned about his dogs and that he likes to sing. He learned I like to laugh, and I really appreciate hearing my students' viewpoints when we're reading aloud.
As the year progressed, he had some trouble in some classes. But not in ours. He knew boundaries, and he respected them. I really appreciated watching him bloom in the classroom - asking questions, voicing opinions, helping others. On the last day of 7th grade, he came to me to say thanks. He told me he hoped he had me again in 8th grade (so did I, and it happened!!).
But it was his thanks that stopped me. Paraphrasing, he told me he knew his 6th grade year was rough. He started 7th grade, dreading what people might think of him. He knew his "friends" wanted him to be like he had - disruptive, disrespectful, rude. He also knew it wasn't who he wanted to be. Some people, he said, wouldn't believe he could change. Teachers had heard all those things, and he wasn't sure he'd get a good start. He said thanks for not believing all I'd heard, and for not expecting the student who matched what I'd heard. I smiled - and thanked him for not believing all he'd heard about me and for not expecting the teacher who matched what he'd heard.
Labels are needed - my kids need to know which cabinet has the scissors. They aren't needed for students. I want to figure my kids out, and I want them to have fresh starts. I also think it's important to not judge students based on some criteria. So a kid's acting out - do we know why? Or do we just say "troublemaker"?
Our students deserve more. Our students deserve better. We must #reachbeforeteach .
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