lessons learned from a student teacher

the theory is, a student teacher comes to learn how to teach while observing your wise experience & brilliant knowledge gained through years of hard work.  the truth of the matter is, i’ve learned more about teaching from watching her in the last 4 weeks than she’s probably learned from me.  the lessons i’ve learned she didn’t mean to teach, but that’s beside the point.  and furthermore, this isn’t the first time i’ve learned them.  but such is life.  learning the same thing over and over again because my brain has short term memory loss.  every day.  and this stuff is necessary.  if i’m going to be a teacher, i need to remember this.

#1:  kids like structure.  there’s something about having concrete expectations and guidelines that frees them up to relax into the structure.  when there’s no structure they get uptight and anxious.

#2:  kids like to laugh.  it doesn’t matter if you’re the dorkiest cornball teacher on the planet, just get them to laugh.

#3:  it’s always okay to explain why. 

#4:  a conversation is a lot more effective than a lecture.

#5:  enthusiasm is contagious, even if they’re too cool to show it.

#6:  if a kid is acting out, don’t take it personal - just try a different approach.

#7:  getting frustrated/angry/hurt never solves the problem.  problem-solving solves the problem.

#8:  a cheerful attitude and a smile will trick most anyone into thinking it’s a good day.  even yourself.

i’m sure there’s a bajillion more, but that’s all i can think of for now.

and granted, i’ve been reminded of these things because the student teacher has been doing the opposite of them, but there’s never a better wake-up call than seeing how something shouldn’t be done to help you remember how it should be.  and she’s learning.  this is her first try.  i don’t remember my weeks of student teaching, except for little random spotlight moments (that short term memory loss thing again), so i could just as well have stunk it up even worse than her, who knows.  but everybody’s got to start somewhere.  and keep starting over and over.  when i first came to branson high school last year, it was another start even though i’d been teaching for 4 years.  it was a worse start than my first year of teaching.  but for how low it was last year, the struggles & the victories have made this year twice as high.  i couldn’t be happier with how this year is going.  it’s at least 300% improved. 

and with all these snow days, it just keeps getting better and better.

project earth

here’s part of my environmental club (dubbed ‘project eart’) on bracelet-making day.  i taught them how to make magazine beads (recycling materials to make crafts!) and they had so much fun.

next up, plant-a-tree fundraiser!  and field trip to the conservation area!  and volunteer at the recycling center!

these kids might wear me out.

creative surprises

in my drawing 1 classes i’m starting my students on a self-portrait unit.  to get them warmed up and ready to tackle the tricky self-portrait, i’ve been teaching them the proportions of the face. they’ve been doing practice drawings with the basic oval divided in half where the eyes go then divided in fourths with instructions on where the nose, lips, hairline & ears belong in comparison to each other.  yesterday i had them spend the first half of class proving they had the proportion rules down by drawing a basic face.  then after 30 minutes or so i had them draw another face where they still had to start with an oval and they still had to include all the traditional features but they had to break all the proportion rules and arrange the features in places they didn’t belong.  at first while i was telling them what they had to do, they all kind of looked at me with blank stares, as if to say, ‘you WANT us to break the rules?’, but then after a few minutes of getting used to the idea, they were so fun and involved, making their faces.  i couldn’t help but join in while they were drawing and create my own faces on the white board.  it was like this little oasis of freedom in the midst of a long, boring day at work.   i had a blast and i think my kids did, too. 

i have 3 classes of drawing 1 so i did the same thing every class.

i didn’t plan out what they would look like, they just kind of happened.  i didn’t even know i knew how to draw such disturbing creatures! 

i named them mouth heads.

sometimes those little creative bubbles come along and surprise me and remind me of the reason i love art so much.  not because i’m a tried and true artist and can’t live without creating but because when inspiration strikes, it’s the happiest interlude that brightens up my whole day.

individualism

my absolute favorite part about teaching is when i’m able to connect with one of my kids in a face-to-face sort of way.  i tend to see that as the goal of each day – to be constantly on the lookout for that connection.  the trouble with that is, i have the sense that everything else is just counting minutes, passing time until i’m able to snatch that moment and revel in it and say, ‘aHA! yes!  this right now is the reason for my day!’  but then that devalues all those other minutes and devalues all the time spent in front of the group, teaching and interacting in a non-individual sort of way.

it feels like a tension to me.  i want to learn more about this tension.  i want to understand how to enjoy the group AND the individual equally.  i want to be just as excited to see ALL 190 of my students even though i’m secretly biding my time for that one magical interaction (or 2 or 3)…

another thing i do that is tied up in this same concept has to do with devaluing as well, but actually devaluing individuals instead of just dismissing the whole group as nonrewarding.  if i’m constantly looking for the Quality Interaction, i’m also subconsciously deciding who’s going to give it to me and who’s not.  then i’m dismissing all of those individuals who aren’t.  basically i’m playing favorites and judging kids based on past performances.  and if there’s one thing i want to NOT do is play favorites.  it’s surprisingly easy to like the unlikable high schoolers if i just make a mental decision to like them.  but when i make a mental decision that they don’t have as much to offer in the way of fulfilling connection, then i’m dehumanizing them & ultimately missing out on what they have to offer. 

i’m missing out on knowing them. 

and not only that, i’m also ranking people on how much they can offer ME!  sickening.

if my favorite thing about teaching is something that revolves around myself then i think there’s a problem.  more often than not, scratching the surface of all my noble motivations will reveal some deep ugliness.   sometimes i don’t think i’m as concerned about connecting with the individual students as much as i want my own self to be recognized & known. 

i’m not saying that all attempts to connect one-on-one are selfish, though.  i hate it when people get on soapboxes. by the time they’re finished ranting & raving, they’ve conveyed the absolute message that ‘x’ behavior is evil & should be avoided at all costs.  it’s easy for me to be lured into simplistic thinking so i can categorize all things in black & white, so i can conclusively know what not to do.  what i am saying, rather, is that my selfish tendencies distort the goodness that can be in everything.  i know that it’s a good thing to want to connect with students; it’s a great thing to enjoy the unique & delightful ways god made each one of my students to be.  it’s when my self-centered desires get mixed in that things get a bit confusing.

i find myself in a ‘funk’, for lack of a better word, pretty regularly where i just go through the motions & feel emotional & fight against having a bad attitude toward life in general.  i half-heartedly wonder why i’m in it and i vaguely wonder how to get out…

i think the root of all funks can be traced back to selfish motives.

i want the lord to create in me motives that come from him; to help me see his reflection in my students & help me reflect his goodness & love & mercy to them.  i want my tender father to cause my heart to be turned toward him and not toward myself; to restore the good motives that he originally created in me - to connect with his children in a way that glorifies him.

he is faithful to make us into his image, a little tiny bit at a time.

10 minute gifts

6 1/2 hours… 67 parents… that’s about 10 minutes per parent.  also, a buzzing in my brain that still hasn’t gone away.  i don’t think any person should be expected to talk for 6 1/2 hours. 

all ’shoulds’ aside, there’s something to be said for sitting down and having a (brief) heart to heart with the people who care the most about these kids i get to teach.  they’re the people who gave birth to them, who wiped their snotty noses, who cuddled them close.  they’re the grandparents who took them in after their parents split up or died or left town for who knows what reasons.  they’re the fathers who fought for custody, the adoptive parents who chose them, the foreign exchange homes that welcomed them.  they’re the people who make sure they’re fed & clothed & who are at their wits end when they don’t give a flip about their education.  they tell me about the bus driver that abused their daughter to explain why she missed school for a week, they tell me about the mom that used to help their grandson with his art projects and who is gone now, leaving him floundering in emotions and apathetic toward art.  they tell me about their visit to the art institute of chicago and their big dreams that are too expensive for them to dream… they ask me how to motivate their child to care about school, why he’s is in drawing 1 for the 3rd time in a row, what assignments she’s missing, when they can stay after school, who they sit by in class, how they behave… behind all their questions, their eyes are mostly asking, ‘don’t you agree that my kid is the greatest kid out of them all?’

out of 190 students that come into my classroom every day, i can’t honestly say i think they’re each the greatest kid of them all.  but spending 10 little minutes with people who genuinely think they are, it’s easier to see why they think so.  and it’s easier to look at those kids the next day with new eyes.  for a little stretch of time, their parents have given me a precious gift.  i’m welcomed into their family, not for my own sake, but for their children.  if i’m on their side, if i’m in their camp for even 10 minutes, they’re sure i will agree.  they’re sure i’ll see what they see. 

and i do.

for a few days anyhow.

nice, neat closure

me:  so i wrote a new contract in my heart yesterday after our conversation.  do you want to hear it?

student A: sure (while looking down at his painting, lips twitching in a possible near-smile).

me:  it says, ‘i, mrs. fried, will do my best to treat [student A] fairly.’  signed mrs. fried.  if you’d like to write a contract in your own heart for yourself i’ll leave that up to you.  i decided i would be responsible for myself & hold out hope that you’d meet me in the middle somewhere along the way.

student A: hmmph.  [another partial lip twitch - could also be a nervous tic].

for the rest of the class period, student A was a perfect angel.  other kids were acting like crazies, but he minded his own business, worked diligently on his project & gave me no grief.

we’ll see how long that lasts.  it’s not tearful hugs or anything but it feels a little bit like closure.  for now.

going around in circles

sometimes i don’t feel smart enough for this job. 

the other day in class student A loudly requested student B to turn his music down on his ipod during quiet quiz time.  student A’s voice was way louder than student B’s music.  i asked student A to not be so loud and he was instantly offended, saying he was just trying to get the guy to turn his music down so he doesn’t see why he’s the one in trouble.  (rabbit trail:  why do kids automatically feel ‘in trouble’ when they’ve been asked politely, in a sweet tone, to do something different than they’re currently doing?  they’re not in stocks in the town square, for crying out loud!  there’s no imminent caning in their near future!)

anyhow, this interaction with student A was distracting more quiz-taking students so i called him over to my desk where there was a handy chair for him to sit in & chat with me.  the chat got nowhere very slowly.  anything i’d say to him he’d respond with, ‘well i didn’t ask to take this class, i don’t really care.’  but in an apathetic, do-what-you-will sort of way, not an attitudey, disrespectful way that could have reaped actual consequences.  

here’s where my ignorance comes into play.  what do i say to a kid who doesn’t care?  and keeps repeating that he doesn’t care?  my first instinct is to FORCE him to care, darn it!  but that won’t work.  second instinct, talk to him & find out why he doesn’t care. 

okay, conversation ensues.  turns out this particular student feels like i pick on him.  today it’s the talking when the OTHER student was the one with the loud music.  yesterday, i got onto him for typing on the manual typewriter that people are using as a drawing object & i falsely accused him of doing it two days in a row – he’d only done it the one day.  day before yesterday i asked him to quit drumming on the table with the colored pencils again (since it breaks the lead inside) and it wasn’t him that particular time, it was a kid next to him.

see the pattern here?  he does things but other people do things too, and i’m only blaming him (evidently) and never getting onto anyone else.  amidst this conversation he liberally sprinkles his pet phrase, ‘but it’s okay ’cause i don’t really care.’

so i get it, i know how it feels to be unjustly blamed.  i know what it’s like to feel called out in front of peers & want to crawl into a hole somewhere, especially when it wasn’t even your fault.

i tell him, ‘okay, i hear you saying [insert all i heard him saying from above].  now hear me saying i’m not omniscient, i can’t know everything that’s going on at all times.  i’m not purposely picking on you – i’m just not able to see the whole story all the time.  so let’s meet in the middle.  i’ll try harder to treat you fairly & notice what else is happening if you’ll try harder to care.’  i write this down on a scrap of paper:

‘i, mrs. fried, agree to try harder to treat [student A] more fairly. 

i, [student A] agree to try harder to care.’

and i signed my name at the bottom.  he said, ‘i’m not signing that.  i don’t care.  i didn’t ask to be put in this class, i don’t go home and make stuff, i’m not artistic, i don’t care.  i don’t want to try harder to care when i don’t care.’

i said, ‘well, okay, write up something you can sign.  let’s meet in the middle here.’

he writes, ‘i, [student A], don’t care.’ and signed his name.

clever.

i said, ‘well that’s not meeting in the middle now is it?’

about this time the bell was about to ring  so i let him go to his next class with the understanding that we’d try again on monday to meet in the middle somewhere.

problem is, monday’s tomorrow & i have no idea what to do.  nick’s advice, and what i’m inclined to think is a good idea is to just tell him i can’t force anything out of him – as much as i’d like him to meet me in the middle, i can’t make him do that.  all i can do is try harder to treat him fairly.  still call him out on things he does but be more aware of other people around him also.  i can only be responsible for me, i can’t really force this kid to care, and if i just keep pushing him to meet in the middle, we’re probably going to be talking in circles again.

but that feels so… incomplete.  messy.  not tied up in a neat bow with tearful hugs of understanding & us going on about our day with a feeling of connecting and respecting each other as humans.  i honestly don’t expect THAT… well, okay, maybe i secretly do.  i want to be understood.  i want to understand.  i want us to get along.

but i have a feeling anything i try to say or initiate with this kid is going to elicit another ‘i don’t care’, in the same dull, passionless voice.

it’s times like these when i don’t feel like a very good teacher.  there can be 5 other instances in that same day where i felt successful & make the connections with students & have that neat, tied-up feeling of closure, but all it takes is one kid with a perpetual chip on his shoulder to undo the sense of community i was enjoying with those other 5 kids.

i suppose it comes back to a few things that i need tatooed on my hand as reminders:

1. my significance and worth are not based on the opinions of teenagers.
2. i am ignorant & uneducated in teenage psychology, but i have the holy spirit who knows these kids’ hearts more deeply than any psychologist ever will.
3. that same holy spirit has offered to help me out.
4. my purpose in life is to reflect christ.

father, show me what that looks like in this situation.  i need your help.

kindred spirits

today i was so aware of how many kids i get to interact with at school who are genuinely hilarious & sincere & funny.  it’s incredibly fun to talk and laugh with high school girls who are fun to talk to and laugh with.  i’m energized when i see a reflection of  a similar sense of humor in my students or when they express themselves and i know exactly what they’re talking about.  i feel this buzz of good vibes when those connections are made.  they make me thankful for getting to be a high school art teacher. 

my unfortunate tendency is to give way too much weight to the kids who are energy drainers.  i have so many students who tend to monopolize all the attention in a completely non-rewarding way.  they can’t be getting anything out of the glares or reprimands that are the results of their actions.  i’m certainly not.  more and more this year i’m learning to establish better boundaries with those kids.  to not allow them to be negative attention hogs.  it’s like they never learned how to garner positive attention but they want attention so the negative variety is all they know how to get.

but then those rays of sunshine, those kindred spirits, they make it all worthwhile.  and i sometimes overlook them or don’t take the time to interact because i’m so stressed out about the yahoos. 

note to self: don’t stress out about the yahoos.

this topic might sound a little controversial.  i can just hear people thinking, ‘well, what about those poor yahoos?  they need love & attention just as much as the rewarding kids!’ and i am 100% with you on that – they certainly do.  what i’m talking about here is how i sometimes allow them to take over my life which keeps me from getting to appreciate the kids who love art and love to laugh & listen to fun music & enjoy their day with good attitudes.  when i take time to have fun with them, it just changes the whole tone of my day.  i’m saying i want to take more time with them.  it seems like the message we hear a lot from different places is that the at-risk kids, the low learners who take longer to do their school work, the kids with behavior problems, they need us more so we should give them more.  i don’t dispute that they need us, i just want to be a little more balanced. 

to make room for delighting.   and maybe somewhere in there i can learn how to delight in the difficult kids, too.  but that’s a lesson for another day.

a short day, a long day, same day

as i entered attendance in the computer for one of my classes i noticed a note by one student who’d been in detention for a couple of days.  it said, ’suspended @8:20′.  then he was marked as ‘oss’ for the rest of the day. 

our school day starts at 7:30.  it had nothing to do with me except for the fact that i have him in class, but i still couldn’t help but wonder.  how does a guy get suspended after a mere 50 minutes of school?

my day was definitely better than his.  that’s something to be thankful for.

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last hour of the day, my 8th period kids started filing in.  this semester i have a student with a form of autism.  he’s usually pretty okay in the mainstream class.  he’s occasionally disruptive but for the most part easy enough to deal with.   his main hang-up is an utter revulsion for girls.  he doesn’t mind female teachers but students that happen to be girls are not his cup of tea.  he will have a conniption if he has to walk too close to a girl and he utterly refuses to touch anything that last came in contact with one.  he calls them ‘it’ and ‘evil aliens’ and yells at them to get away if they happen to be in his path.

today we had a new arrangement of desks.  this particular student came in first (as usual) and quickly chose his new desk in a block of 10 desks.  it just so happened that the 5 desks at the opposite end of the block from him were quickly filled by all girls and no boys were present as buffers.  we almost had a nuclear meltdown in the art room.  it was instant freak-out mode, full-blown.  he yelled & growled & pleaded for them to move somewhere else.  he kept saying, ’somebody help me! i can’t stand it!  get them away!’ over and over.

it was a level 10 tantrum.  i tried the things they told us to do with him – i informed him of his choices – to either move to a block of desks with boys or go out in the hall and discuss the situation with me.  he refused both options and kept yelling.  i set a timer for one minute and told him he needed to be in the hall by then.  i went to the phone to recruit back-up or at least advice.  while on the phone, the timer went off with no acknowledgment whatsoever (it usually motivates him to instant action no matter how distasteful his choices) and of course the back-up was MIA.  thankfully, a thoughtful student (who happened to be a boy) decided to intervene.  he went and sat in the buffer zone.  there was immediate peace and quiet.

i don’t know what i would have done but for him.  the day was saved.

my interaction with this student is not at an end though.  we’ll be reaffirming some boundaries & non-negotiables that are a part of coming to art class.

it sure did make the last period dramatic though.

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isn’t it strange how circumstances seem to alter time?  depending on what’s going on, the minutes can zip by at the speed of light or else plod along like they’re soaked in molasses.  you can be skipping along through your first period of detention when bam! you’re suspended!  or you can be almost done with your long day when all of the sudden life becomes utterly unmanageable. 

and then before you know it, the day’s over whether it was short or long, and it’s a new morning.  time is such a mystery.

image

today i stopped by the gym to watch a minute or two of the girl’s volleyball game on my way out of the school.  in so doing, i was mesmerized by one of my students.  she was the only girl i recognized on the team so i watched her in particular.  for some reason the ball always seemed to go to her.   she sometimes got it, but more often than not,  didn’t - at one point she and another girl froze 2 feet from each other and let the ball drop to the floor right in between them.

the first thought is, sure, they’re a high school team, they’re not pro or anything.  but i found myself being surprised at their lack of skill.  my imagination was sorely disappointed. 

i teach at branson high school, population 1,300.  after having taught at blue eye high school, population 212.  word on the smaller-school street is, branson’s the place to be.  it’s full of cool kids, it has a football team, it’s some kind of special.  the branson reputation is pretty attractive all around.  this is just what i would hear from different students from time to time.  i didn’t think much of it, never cared a whole lot…

then lo & behold, i got a job at branson where they pay teachers significantly better.  and after teaching there for a year & a half i’ve been buying into that whole image thing after all.  the students i see that come into my classroom are trendy, cool, funny, more put together than i ever was in high school.  sure, there are a few on the less-cool end of the spectrum, but there are so many seemingly popular kids and they are so much louder than the unpopular kids.   they’re just easier to notice. 

and this one volleyball girl.  she’s a tiny freshman, but she has layered hair & she always wears the latest fashions with subtle but trendy makeup.  she’s well-liked and also just a really good kid.  she wears the typical volleyball get-up when they’re at practice and running around the commons getting drinks or giggling in the bathroom – those microscopic shorts that can only work on little teenager behinds. 

without ever having watched an actual volleyball game, i believed in all the hype.  i assumed we had a great girls volleyball team.  i mean, we’re branson!  we look good, so we must be pretty darn good.

turns out beneath all the show, these kids are still just kids.  despite having ‘the look’ down pat, they’re still in the process of growing up.

sometimes i assume too much, i take for granted that i’m not needed.  most of them have that outer image so polished & shiny.  it’s such a rare occasion to see past that veneer.  but then i suppose it makes perfect sense.  it doesn’t matter how good of a hair day i’m having, if i feel crummy on the inside, that’s what governs my thoughts and actions.  looks look pretty, but i want to get to the nitty gritty more.  i want to see the underneath.  i want to learn how to get past those shiny shells and see honest authenticity.  and i want to show that same realness myself. 

 it’s not normal, but it’s so much more interesting.