Creating and sustaining school cultures that support the social and emotional needs of children is a topic of continual discussion in educational forums. 

I have spent decades exploring how to best support students when we can only truly control the seven or eight hours a day they are in our care. How do we then find ways to make a positive impact that is self-sustaining, while keeping the learning rigorous and the programs relevant on campus?

During a recent professional development training, I was talking with some teachers from neighboring schools, and the topic of our current contentious presidential race came up. One teacher said his school had decided to ban any sort of political campaigning or sign posting. He said the administration was concerned about inappropriate discussions and aggressive disagreements, so the decision was made to simply avoid the whole thing. I was flabbergasted. If we as educators can’t provide frameworks and processes for students to have intelligent and respectful conversations about the leadership of our country, where are our young people going to learn to be active citizens? In my mind, learning the art and practice of civil discourse is an integral responsibility of public education in the United States.

The overwhelming feelings of fear and insecurity rise into my throat as I stare into my plan book, pencil tapping away at the empty space where my first week of instruction should be. When do I start with my content areas? When are the materials arriving? Will we have test scores by then to begin grouping? I’m getting ahead of myself. 

After several long, deep breaths, I begin to remember what these first weeks are really about. I won’t be overwhelming my students with an explicit lesson on narrative writing during day one. I won’t be diving into comprehension quizzes on day two. I must go slow to go fast. Establish norms. Build my classroom community. 

In his book “Thinking Fast and Slow” (Kahneman, 2011), Daniel Kahneman tells us many critical things about how our minds work, and how those processes affect the manner in which we make decisions. He was awarded the 2002 Nobel Prize in Economic Sciences for his life’s work, and presents to us simple rules that can guide how we make decisions about our own lives, including what we purchase and how we get along with our partners, friends, and family. He also illustrates the importance of observing longer term patterns to make decisions, and not allowing single events to lead us to believe that something is “true.”

I am more than a teacher. I am an activator. I'm tasked with lighting thousands upon thousands of little ‘aha’ moments in little minds each year. Not each spark takes hold, but others explode! Sometimes, I get to see the magic take hold in the most powerful of ways. Part 2 of 2.

Carmen came to me a reading-shy freshman. She was ever so polite, with a smile that melts my heart daily.

She'd forget her glasses. She'd quietly chat with her friend. She'd wait for someone to notice she was lost.

In the past, I would give her a heads up before calling on her and be met with panicked eyes. While another student read aloud, I'd go over to her and softly let her know I'd help her. When she started to shut down, I'd smile and let her know that ladies let people know what they need and move forward. I'd remind her that she was still moving ahead.

I am more than a teacher. I am an activator. I'm tasked with lighting thousands upon thousands of little ‘aha’ moments in little minds each year. Not each spark takes hold, but others explode! Sometimes, I get to see the magic take hold in the most powerful of ways. Part 1 of 2.

Periodically, I stop class for a five-minute life lesson. I teach transferable skills, as many of them as I can, on and off curriculum. As these teachable moments crop up, I seize them. I'm preparing my kiddos for life. I'd be shirking my responsibilities if I didn't teach them the soft skills that subtly support us as we move through the world. My pupils needed to be well read, analytical, adept at critical thinking, and savvy. Most of all, they needed to find their voice. They live in a world that doesn't always tell them their “value.” They are told constantly what they are “worth.”

How One Teacher is Working Her Magic to Help Struggling Students Reclaim Their Education, Part 2 of 2

As is my usual style, my little ideas quickly take on a life of their own and turn into BIG magic!

Since I was already pulling out all the stops for Lham, as described in last week’s blog post, I scoured my roster for others like him. These students were caught up in a political Groundhog Day from which they could not escape. There was a lot of identifying and re-identifying of the problems, without any real plan to remediate the issues.

No matter our experiences or background growing up, most of us can remember at least one or two occasions during childhood where we were picked on, made fun of in front of peers, humiliated in some way, threatened, intimidated, or perhaps even beaten up.

I was a tall boy (and “smart”) in my school and clearly recall the students who did these things to me, as well as details and circumstances surrounding these terrible incidents. Mostly I was picked on by older (and larger) students, and I recall particularly one of my classmates who seemed bent on making me suffer daily. Adults in the school didn’t seem to notice or care—at least it certainly felt that way. No adult ever talked to us about bullying, how to report it, or what to do about it. Maybe they just thought it was “normal.”

Your new schedule awaits your return, sitting silently in your mailbox at school. With palpating heart and sweaty hands you skim the page to find …

• COLLABORATION, Professional Learning Communities (PLC),
  Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, 2:00–2:45

It’s back. Written in the schedule again. The only difference is that this year it looks like you will be collaborating more often, not less. Three days of teaming? You panic. With mind racing you wonder, “How will I survive this year? Summer, oh summer – how I loved you! Wait. Should I have taken that secretarial position at the local bank?”

By Kathleen Keelan