Entry # 17:
Unless we know our students well,
nothing else we try to do will matter
It is Christmas time at Turner Middle, and the halls are overflowing with
holiday cheer. Cards are being distributed, gifts are being exchanged, and
the walls are covered with Christmas trees, snowmen, and brightly colored
paper chains. It is a festive place, full of the expectation of the holidays
ahead.
This week I have received my share of gifts and cards. Stuffed animals,
chocolates, perfume, a mug, and numerous cards have found their way into
my hands, always with a, "Do you like it Mrs. Berg?" I am overwhelmed
by the wide-eyed innocence and generosity of my students, but more than
that, my heart is filled with joy and love beyond capacity.
I have discovered this year just how important the relationships I have
with my students are. I know any first-year teacher can tell you the necessity
of forming relationships with students, but I am finally understanding just
how powerful a good student-teacher relationship is. There is no research-based
program, no manual, no district mandate that can replace or even approximate
the benefits of knowing our students. If we do not know our students well,
if we have not spent the time developing a rapport with them, then all other
measures will fail.
"We need you here"
Several recent events have brought this point home to me. First, because
of unusually frigid, dangerous temperatures and a series of snow storms,
school was cancelled four days. Additionally, I missed school another three
days with a nasty sinus infection for a grand total of seven consecutive
school days away from my children. While I was at home, I worried and fretted
about what was happening to my classroom or the lack of structure in many
of my students' homes during their days off. I envisioned coming back only
to have to begin at square one with discipline and routines while cleaning
up the remnants of my room.
Oh me of little faith. When I walked into the gym Wednesday morning to pick
my students up, I watched, amazed, as the students who had been out of line,
punching others, or just plain loud visibly straightened up and followed
our morning procedure. Without reminding them, they stopped at all our usual
"catch-up" points as we crossed the street. Furthermore, my classroom
was in perfect condition. Nothing was broken or missing, and everything
was put away. "We cleaned everything up for you, Mrs. Berg," Charles
said. "We know what you said about taking care of our classroom."
When my first block class showed up at my door, they were in a perfect line,
waiting to enter. They came in like it was any other day, and class proceeded
as it had since the beginning of school. The rest of the day went smoothly,
and I ended up feeling very guilty for doubting them, especially since I
found a homemade get-well card on my desk, signed by many of my students.
"We hope you get better soon. We need you here."
Two kinds of modeling
I was conned into being a model in the Kwaanza fashion show for our holiday
assembly by our counselor who told me in no uncertain terms that being on
the mend did not pardon me from participating, especially since I had never
modeled during my five years at Turner. When I told my homeroom and confided
to them I was nervous, Tammy said, "We won't laugh at you Mrs. Berg.
We'll support you." I was touched, but nothing can replace the warmth
I felt as I walked into the auditorium and 300 students rose to their feet
and cheered. I looked around at three years of students who high-fived and
grinned at me as I walked down the aisle. I was humbled.
Today as I was getting ready to leave, the vice-principal came to me and
said, "There's a young man downstairs waiting for you. He says you're
his mentor." I went downstairs to find "Rod," a student of
mine from my first year of Turner, waiting for me. "I wanted to show
you the first chapter of my book and wish you a Merry Christmas," he
said, then told me I should see a doctor for my cough. This from a child
I fought with every day of my first year until we connected over our mutual
interest in reading and writing.
Trust and respect lead to performance
I guess these make for entertaining little anecdotes, but if I didn't believe
they were more significant than that, I would not bother to fill this space
with them. I thing sometimes teachers, principals, and school districts
are so focused on the academic that we forget that good relationships where
mutual respect is present are the foundation for anything else we do in
our classrooms. It goes back to the necessity, especially in our middle
schools, to tap into that affective domain. That is not to say we can be
touchy-feely and sing Kum-by-ya or allow students to do whatever they feel
like doing, but it means that we must have established some trust, some
respect, some shared experiences with our students in order to reach them
academically.
It is not even a popularity contest. There are times when my students get
upset or irritated with my choice of consequences, a reprimand, or even
our routines. They get angry with me, stomp their feet, and even cry, but
they know I am fair and I care. Even more than that, they know I won't hold
their poor choices against them later on.
I feel proud that I know my students. Knowing them, their families, and
their situations routinely helps me when I am instructing them. I know that
Phil crabs a lot about the work in front of his friends because he does
not want them to know he is a poor reader, but I also know he wants to succeed
because he asks for extra homework and comes to school even though his mother
is rarely at home.
I know that Brant is secretly swooning over Christy, so he feels nervous
if she is in his group. I know that if I turn a tense situation into a joke
with Dean, he will usually apologize and get back on task with no arguments
because he is afraid of looking stupid. I know if I give Mike an opportunity
to express himself dramatically, he will go beyond the requirements of the
assignment because he wants to be an actor.
I am constantly impressed with the depth of interests, knowledge, and personalities
of my students. Anyone who never looks beyond the stereotype of middle school
students as shallow, hormonal, conflicted teenagers is missing out. As a
teacher during this holiday season, I have already received the best gift
of all: the gift of themselves.
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