The Struggle
I have never been the most approachable person, nor am I wonderful at small talk with those around me. I get flustered and extra quiet and never know what to say or ask without it sounding forced. I'm bad with names. And large groups cause my brain to shut down in a way that only exacerbates these problems.
It has taken years for me to be able to have small conversations with people at larger gatherings, and each time I interact in these environments, I am learning, discovering, being challenged.
It's wonderful. Terrifying and riddled with mistakes, but wonderful.
Because of these anxieties, and my natural introversion, making connections with people has always felt like it takes much more time than many would have me believe. Cultivating the kind of connections that matter is important, but that doesn't mean it's easy or particularly quick. It can't be forced; if you try to force something, you run the risk of breaking it instead.
I believe this applies at school as well.
I love my students. They are so amazing, and I want them to know that more than most things. As I've watched my relationships with my students over the past four weeks, I've made some observations that have forced me to reflect the pieces of myself shared above. I'd like to share what I've learned.
Because I teach 9th grade and 12th grade, I'm working with different curricula and different demographics. It's amazing how much change happens between your first year of high school and your last.
Recently I realized how difficult I'm finding it is to connect with the seniors, who follow directions but won't really participate in class. With my 9th graders, we banter and joke and still they know my (high) expectations and they work to rise to them. Why? What is different?
Time.
Force.
Looking back, my approaches to the two classes were very different. Partially due to outside circumstances (I am, of course, borrowing people's classrooms right now), it has nevertheless become evident to me that the environment you create on the first day of school really does set a tone that carries through.
It has taken years for me to be able to have small conversations with people at larger gatherings, and each time I interact in these environments, I am learning, discovering, being challenged.
It's wonderful. Terrifying and riddled with mistakes, but wonderful.
Because of these anxieties, and my natural introversion, making connections with people has always felt like it takes much more time than many would have me believe. Cultivating the kind of connections that matter is important, but that doesn't mean it's easy or particularly quick. It can't be forced; if you try to force something, you run the risk of breaking it instead.
I believe this applies at school as well.
I love my students. They are so amazing, and I want them to know that more than most things. As I've watched my relationships with my students over the past four weeks, I've made some observations that have forced me to reflect the pieces of myself shared above. I'd like to share what I've learned.
Because I teach 9th grade and 12th grade, I'm working with different curricula and different demographics. It's amazing how much change happens between your first year of high school and your last.
Recently I realized how difficult I'm finding it is to connect with the seniors, who follow directions but won't really participate in class. With my 9th graders, we banter and joke and still they know my (high) expectations and they work to rise to them. Why? What is different?
Time.
Force.
Looking back, my approaches to the two classes were very different. Partially due to outside circumstances (I am, of course, borrowing people's classrooms right now), it has nevertheless become evident to me that the environment you create on the first day of school really does set a tone that carries through.
Looking Back: Day One in 9th Grade
I never told my 9th-graders I am a student teacher. I still haven't. I know some of them might have figured it out by now. At one point I challenged them to Google my name to see what they could learn about me. If any took up that challenge beyond simply locating my Twitter account (which some did), they would know my position.
I spent the first day of class introducing myself, introducing the class as a whole, and having them write. I did not go over rules. I did not lecture them about how they should behave. I did not read them the syllabus. We worked. They met people at their tables. They learned about major routines for the class. I helped them find books for the next day, when our daily reading would begin. In short, students were active.
Routine became a driving force, rather quickly. It was only once we were able to establish that that we could begin to deviate. You know how they say you have to know the rules to break them? Like professional writers understand sentence composition and grammar before they ever deviate from the rules. I think the same goes for building relationships, especially with students. But it's not about establishing rules, really. It's about establishing culture. What is the classroom culture that you can cultivate that will allow your students to emerge from within it? So that they feel comfortable, and welcome, and challenged to be better than they were yesterday.
I've seen many of my students' personalities emerge, slowly, but confidently. One of my most quiet students is suddenly cracking jokes that always more funny than any of us want them to be. Some groups have begin calling themselves by group names (I had one group self-identify as Slytherin one day and then wonder why I took 20 points away from their house.. I'm a Hufflepuff!). Other students are taking on extra projects. Just because. The sense of camaraderie is only growing.
Underneath all of the joking and the distractions, there is an unwavering sense of expectation that my students understand. They are learning to prioritize their work, to collaborate effectively (this is quite the process), and to put their best selves forward.
Of course, it's not perfect. Many show up but do not participate. And as much as I say they are learning about collaboration, they aren't that great at it. If anything, I find this the most exciting. What does effective collaboration look like? And how do I teach it to them? This is one of my major questions/goals for my students this semester.
I spent the first day of class introducing myself, introducing the class as a whole, and having them write. I did not go over rules. I did not lecture them about how they should behave. I did not read them the syllabus. We worked. They met people at their tables. They learned about major routines for the class. I helped them find books for the next day, when our daily reading would begin. In short, students were active.
Routine became a driving force, rather quickly. It was only once we were able to establish that that we could begin to deviate. You know how they say you have to know the rules to break them? Like professional writers understand sentence composition and grammar before they ever deviate from the rules. I think the same goes for building relationships, especially with students. But it's not about establishing rules, really. It's about establishing culture. What is the classroom culture that you can cultivate that will allow your students to emerge from within it? So that they feel comfortable, and welcome, and challenged to be better than they were yesterday.
I've seen many of my students' personalities emerge, slowly, but confidently. One of my most quiet students is suddenly cracking jokes that always more funny than any of us want them to be. Some groups have begin calling themselves by group names (I had one group self-identify as Slytherin one day and then wonder why I took 20 points away from their house.. I'm a Hufflepuff!). Other students are taking on extra projects. Just because. The sense of camaraderie is only growing.
Underneath all of the joking and the distractions, there is an unwavering sense of expectation that my students understand. They are learning to prioritize their work, to collaborate effectively (this is quite the process), and to put their best selves forward.
Of course, it's not perfect. Many show up but do not participate. And as much as I say they are learning about collaboration, they aren't that great at it. If anything, I find this the most exciting. What does effective collaboration look like? And how do I teach it to them? This is one of my major questions/goals for my students this semester.
Looking Back: Working with Seniors
I wish I could say my time with the seniors has developed in much the same way.
I cannot.
It surprises me that it has been so difficult to connect with my seniors. We are much closer in age, and I like the kind of creative writing and big ideas that a senior writing class calls for. But I haven't been able to engage them. They won't talk to me, or really to each other. They don't push themselves, and there is no emergent culture that allows for the kind of individuality that I am seeing in my 9th graders.
While I know it is hard to say definitively if it's the students or the teacher that creates the kind of disconnect I'm feeling in that room, what I can control is myself.
Reflecting on the first few weeks of school, I can identify some mistakes:
In reality I feel like I am having to put far more attention on problems that are not problems, and it's preventing me from focusing on what we need to move forward as a class.
Connection cannot be preached. It cannot be implemented. It cannot be expected.
It has to develop over time, and through trust. And it's only going to take longer because of how the year has started.
I do believe it is possible though.
I cannot.
It surprises me that it has been so difficult to connect with my seniors. We are much closer in age, and I like the kind of creative writing and big ideas that a senior writing class calls for. But I haven't been able to engage them. They won't talk to me, or really to each other. They don't push themselves, and there is no emergent culture that allows for the kind of individuality that I am seeing in my 9th graders.
While I know it is hard to say definitively if it's the students or the teacher that creates the kind of disconnect I'm feeling in that room, what I can control is myself.
Reflecting on the first few weeks of school, I can identify some mistakes:
- They did not get a seating chart on the first day, so when I created one a week later and explained that I needed to use it to more quickly connect their names to their faces, they resented the change.
- I tried to force their camaraderie, which was unfair to all of us. Telling them they needed to be comfortable around each other and feel like they had to talk, and giving them activities that told them that's what it was supposed to lead to, took away the authenticity.
- I am much less sure about our curriculum, creating a tension that probably shows in my day-to-day teaching. If I'm struggling with the larger goals of what we are doing, why shouldn't they?
- They know that I'm their student teacher. This I couldn't really control, but I do think that this affects how a student teacher is perceived. They don't expect a whole lot from me, and it allows them to write off a lot of what we do.
- I've lectured them about their participation. I regretted every second I heard the words coming out of my mouth. They're adults, or soon to be. Why am I feeling like I have to treat them like they aren't?
In reality I feel like I am having to put far more attention on problems that are not problems, and it's preventing me from focusing on what we need to move forward as a class.
Connection cannot be preached. It cannot be implemented. It cannot be expected.
It has to develop over time, and through trust. And it's only going to take longer because of how the year has started.
I do believe it is possible though.