A student broke my mug yesterday. It had a full cup of coffee in it.
I do not think this is at all important, nor did I really care beyond the 10 seconds of remorse I felt for that mug. We had been through a lot together.
What is fascinating, and worth addressing, I think, is the exchange I had with the student after this occurred.
Here's the run-down of events:
*mug slides of desk he is rocking*
I let out a gasp of surprise.
Mug-breaker looks at me with panic-eyes.
I say, "I need you to go get some napkins, please!"
He runs off, and I express my remorse for the ending of our beloved time together.
Students help me pick up the pieces, while mug-breaker wipes coffee off of desk/chair.
I then start asking mug-breaker about his thesis, because that's what we were working on, and I wanted to make sure what I understood from reading was the same as what he was trying to express in his writing.
He continues to look at me with wide-eyes, but answers my questions, timidly, and we eventually come to a better understanding, at which point we edit what is written, and I give him back his computer.
I move on to other students, and check back with him later, at which point he has created a solid thesis statement and has begun working on his outline.
I give him words of encouragement, and he leaves at the end of the period.
I thought about his wide eyes and timidity all night. Did I respond appropriately? Did I scare him? Did I ignore the issue too much so that he went home and wondered if I was mad?
The next day, I chatted with him for a few minutes. I made sure to clearly state that I did not care about the mug, because it is a material object, that life goes on, and that I didn't want him to worry about it at all.
His response?
"I was expecting you to yell at me. I was really confused when you didn't seem mad, because that's usually what people do."
I write this because I wonder what other responses students are conditioned to expect, and the ways in which they have to protect themselves from those responses.
What happens to the student who gets a zero on an assignment they did, but is afraid to bring it up to their teacher even though there was clearly a mistake made?
What happens to the student who is getting terrible grades that don't seem fair or accurate, but is afraid of how their teacher will react if they simply ask for more feedback?
What if a student wants to do better, but doesn't know or is afraid to ask how?
What happens to the student who makes a mistake, makes a bad decision, or breaks a mug, and they can't trust the adults in their lives to understand?
How much more could our students do if they were made to feel that failure is just a part of learning?
I do not think this is at all important, nor did I really care beyond the 10 seconds of remorse I felt for that mug. We had been through a lot together.
What is fascinating, and worth addressing, I think, is the exchange I had with the student after this occurred.
Here's the run-down of events:
*mug slides of desk he is rocking*
I let out a gasp of surprise.
Mug-breaker looks at me with panic-eyes.
I say, "I need you to go get some napkins, please!"
He runs off, and I express my remorse for the ending of our beloved time together.
Students help me pick up the pieces, while mug-breaker wipes coffee off of desk/chair.
I then start asking mug-breaker about his thesis, because that's what we were working on, and I wanted to make sure what I understood from reading was the same as what he was trying to express in his writing.
He continues to look at me with wide-eyes, but answers my questions, timidly, and we eventually come to a better understanding, at which point we edit what is written, and I give him back his computer.
I move on to other students, and check back with him later, at which point he has created a solid thesis statement and has begun working on his outline.
I give him words of encouragement, and he leaves at the end of the period.
I thought about his wide eyes and timidity all night. Did I respond appropriately? Did I scare him? Did I ignore the issue too much so that he went home and wondered if I was mad?
The next day, I chatted with him for a few minutes. I made sure to clearly state that I did not care about the mug, because it is a material object, that life goes on, and that I didn't want him to worry about it at all.
His response?
"I was expecting you to yell at me. I was really confused when you didn't seem mad, because that's usually what people do."
I write this because I wonder what other responses students are conditioned to expect, and the ways in which they have to protect themselves from those responses.
What happens to the student who gets a zero on an assignment they did, but is afraid to bring it up to their teacher even though there was clearly a mistake made?
What happens to the student who is getting terrible grades that don't seem fair or accurate, but is afraid of how their teacher will react if they simply ask for more feedback?
What if a student wants to do better, but doesn't know or is afraid to ask how?
What happens to the student who makes a mistake, makes a bad decision, or breaks a mug, and they can't trust the adults in their lives to understand?
How much more could our students do if they were made to feel that failure is just a part of learning?