Wednesday, January 8, 2014

LESSON THREE: TEENAGERS CARE ABOUT THOSE WHO CARE ABOUT THEM—AND THEY WON’T ASSUME YOU DO

8 JANUARY 2014: DAY THREE

LESSON THREE: TEENAGERS CARE ABOUT THOSE WHO CARE ABOUT THEM—AND THEY WON’T ASSUME YOU DO

Last night I had my first WGU conference call, during which I met the other students in my teaching cohort—students from all around Washington, the far majority of whom have been in the classroom for years. I learned what our homework assignments will be, how to access them, and afterward I wrote a schedule for the next three months.

I arrived at school 15 minutes or so before my host teacher, so I visited with students in the hallway—including some former OPA students. Classes today are an exact duplicate of yesterday, but with different students. Allison prepares three one-hour lesson plans for two full days of teaching. I’m used to preparing nine.

Today, though she allowed me to begin interviewing students. One by one, they come to the back of the room and I ask them the following questions:

1.      What is your favorite class or school activity?
2.      What are your hobbies? What do you do for fun outside of school?
3.      If you could design a class, and for one hour a day learn about anything, what would it be?
4.      What do you want to be when you grow up?

It’s wonderful. Wonderful. Hearing from them, their interests, their hopes and dreams, their passions. They are fascinating, and full of big plans. It turns out they love learning, they are interested in scholastic subjects. One might expect them to answer question 1 with “PE” or “Recess” or even “Lunch.” Several did say, “PE,” but their interests extended to many other subjects, and none of them planned to play sports professionally.

Their hobbies were diverse (beyond video games and sports), and many of them said, “Playing outside.” Others said reading, writing, playing music, drawing, scrapbooking, geocaching, riding dirt bikes, photography, Legos, cooking, baking, beading, and dance.

Almost half of them answered question 3 with actual classes they are taking or could take. Among the other choices: Woodshop, History of Music, Drama, Art, Zoology, Game Design, Choir, Reading, Engineering, Cooking, History, Astronomy, Computer Programming, Marine Biology, Archaeology, World History, Dance.

The jobs they want to do in the future were amazing: police detective, chef, game warden, US Army, computer programmer, computer game design, paleontologist, novelist, baker, demolitions expert, videographer, kindergarten teacher, doctor, marine biologist, deep sea diver, photographer, veterinarian, engineer, teacher.

For the 8th graders…
At the beginning of the class, I was sent out to get some materials from another teacher (I’m not the only teacher who sometimes isn’t as prepared as I wish!) Unfortunately, this meant I missed out on greeting the students as they came in. (Allison said when I arrived that all the students were asking after me, and disappointed that I wasn’t there). That makes a difference. It is those few minutes of interaction outside of class upon which a real relationship is built.

We tried to rehearse and then perform the “play” we had begun working on yesterday. The kids were slightly less rowdy. We read it through twice.

We then listened to the first group perform their play. They did fairly well, although my group was a poor audience. There was no time for my group to do their play—they were disappointed.

She concluded with a brief discussion of the themes of the play. She asked the students: Why might a government decide to or not to make an alliance with another country? The two students who answered were two of the most troublesome, disruptive boys. Their answers were clear and well-thought out. I was so impressed and pleased to hear these boys, who never seemed to pay attention in class, comment in a way that showed that they knew what was going on.

Allison kept four boys (four of the troublemakers, including the two who had answered the questions) after to talk to them about not having their workbooks with them. Three of them were respectful to her in this conversation. They were then sent out to their next class with notes. I walked with them to commend them for the comments they had made in class.

They returned a few moments later, having been kicked out of the class to which they had gone. Apparently the teacher was unhappy with how they had entered. It really sounded to me as if the teacher had overreacted. Allison talked to them a few minutes, went and checked with the teacher, and then came back and sent the boys to the class.

Afterward was our weekly teacher meeting: an hour with the team of teachers who coordinate their schedules. We discussed problem students, upcoming events, and what role I might play in different classes.

As for my lesson…
The interviews were an example of one of the most important lessons I think I have ever learned as a teacher. Students will not assume you care about them. They know teaching is a job, for which you get paid. They often know nothing of teachers’ lives outside of the classroom. You must convince them that you care. You must convince them that their happiness, success, and welfare matter to you. Until they believe that, few of them will really do their best work for you.

Share with them—not just information, but yourself. Prove to them that you care, if you can. If you can convince them, they will see you in a new light. They won’t see you as doing a job. They will see you as a support, a helper, a friend.


After that, the real teaching can begin.

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