Who reminds you of why you became a teacher?

Last Saturday we asked the 2009 Cohort of Inspired Teaching Fellows to share stories about students who remind them of why they became teachers. This is a "word cloud" generated from their responses:



Here are synopses of what some of the fellows said:

(The names of students have been removed to respect their privacy.)

I am a teacher because of M. On your average day he is way too cool for school, roaming the halls, skipping class. But one afternoon I sat with him to talk and after all of my questions he’s been doing work and is more trusting of me.

~ Travis Barnwell, Middle School English Teacher

I am a teacher because of S. Before parting ways at the end of this week, we had a caring conversation and I had the chance to ask him a lot of questions. I tried to show him we care for him and we will continue to do so. That’s why we’re here.

~ Tim Street, Kindergarten Teacher

I am a teacher because of J. She gets into trouble for being to dramatic and wild in other classes, but in English class she comes alive. She loves making meaning out of personal experience, reading aloud, demonstrating the emotional component of what we read. She is such a strong leader. Every day I get a hug from her and she says, “you know you’re my favorite teacher, right?”

~ Anne Atwell-McLeod, Middle School English Teacher

I am a teacher because of N. He reminds me of myself at his age, needing a guiding hand in keeping his mind occupied with meaningful work so he doesn’t get bored and in trouble by doing something else.

~ Rob Otterstatter, Middle School English Teacher

I am a teacher because of D. He failed his even/odd quiz and was having lots of problems. But afterschool I saw him crying and asked why. I found out he was being bullied and he asked to come to my room to do homework. We went over his quiz and after only a few minutes he grasped the entire concept and was able to redo all his problems.

~ Catherine Currie, 2nd Grade Teacher

I am a teacher because of M. He is very active and easily distracted by books. Whenever we are doing something in a circle he wanders off to the library and gets lost in a book. I worry that someone is going to squish this love for reading and thirst for information so I try to encourage it whenever I can.

~ Monique Phillips, Pre K Teacher

I am a teacher because of J. She is excited and enthusiastic about learning, sometimes to the extent of being deafeningly loud. I am always patient with her volume control issues because the reward of seeing her face light up is so great. But I have seen her completely shut down when other adults get angry with her (for screaming). She reminded me that she needs a teacher like me.

~ Allison Rose, 2nd Grade Teacher

Getting it Over With

(This is a reprint of an editorial Aleta Margolis wrote in 2004)

I just finished doing the dishes and I am rewarding myself with 2 cookies. It changed my whole outlook on cleaning the kitchen…I worked quickly, and even smiled as I envisioned myself sitting at a freshly cleaned kitchen table with two chocolate chip cookies and a big glass of milk. 

Doing dishes is drudgery, a necessary evil, a means to an end. It’s something you just jump into, rubber gloves and all, and get it over with. There’s little inherent enjoyment. So it’s nice to know there’s a cookie (or 2!) waiting when it’s over. 

School’s the same way. You get through the homework, the worksheets, the textbook, the chapter test, and—more likely than not—a sticker, piece of candy, or even some cash meets you at the other end. And what’s wrong with that? You work hard, you get a little appreciation from the teacher. 

Except for the whole drudgery thing.

A teacher’s job, simply put, is to get students to do their work. A common mechanism used to make schoolwork important is reward (stickers, prizes, etc.) and punishment (detention, missed recess, etc.). This is usually carried out with little thought or concern as to the long term impact on children.

But it merits further investigation. We ought to wonder what message children receive when they are routinely rewarded with stickers, candy, cash, and the like for completing their schoolwork or for behaving in class.

They might be receiving this message:
Schoolwork is drudgery. We, your teachers, sympathize with you—so much so in fact that we’ll give you something good to look forward to once you get your schoolwork over with. (If you doubt that schoolwork is drudgery, ask yourself: Would I enjoy math worksheets? Reading aloud from a textbook, one paragraph at a time? Memorizing the Preamble to the Constitution?)

Or this one:
We don’t expect all that much of you. So when you do complete an assignment, or do something nice for a classmate, we’re so excited that we’ll reward you, in hopes of getting you to keep on working and/or behaving.

Or, worst of all, this one:
There’s no joy in learning—so do it for the cookie.

I’m not suggesting that teachers should be in the business of making schoolwork easy, or even fun. Far from it. I am suggesting that schoolwork should be interesting, challenging, worthwhile, and nothing at all like drudgery.

Effective teachers take on the difficult and complex task of making schoolwork itself important. They take the time to find out what’s interesting and exciting about math, reading, science, etc., and start there with students. This isn’t just about making kids feel good: when schoolwork is inherently interesting, students work harder, and learn more.

Rewards don’t cause boring teaching, but they do help facilitate it. Students will put up with a lot more drudgery if they know they’re working for a reward. 

School without the cookies can be pretty bland. If you take away rewards, school is a lot like doing the dishes. We need to take a careful look at what we ask children to do in school and make sure it’s worthwhile

In a Pinch I Teach Poetry

The following idea was submitted by Julie Sweetland, Director of Research and Teacher Education at Center for Inspired Teaching.

Here was the scenario in my classroom years ago: I hadn't spent much time on planning. Faced with a long stretch of time and not a lot of preparation, I pulled out William Carlos Williams' famous poem 'This Is Just to Say.'

This Is Just to Say

I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox

and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast

Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold

by William Carlos Williams

I prefaced the poem with the story behind it...it started as a note to his wife, and when he found it later, he realized it was in perfect meter. The personal story always hooks the students. Then I asked:

What makes these words a poem?
Do you think William C. Williams was really sorry?
Have you ever done anything that made you feel like you needed to say ‘forgive me,’ but you were secretly glad you did?

Then I had the students write their own 'apology' poems. Here are a few.

Paper Cut

I am sorry, paper
for cutting you really really fast

That's why you are probably in pieces right now

I was cutting fast
and drowned you in glue

I know you're really angry
but it was just for fun

Sorry

--Marquette

"My Cellphone"

This is just to say
I'm sorry for losing you for a week
in my dad's car
you might have been so lonely
just sitting there waiting for someone to find you
you were just sitting under
the dark black scary car seat
anyway
i apologize

--William

"To the Paper"

I always took pencils.
I scribbled all on you.
I balled you up and threw you
right in the trash.

I know you always wanted to stay alive
but I have to put you in the garbage
that is just how it is.

Don't blame me if you don't stay white.
But I am sorry
for using you

-Alexus

"That Old Door"

the door that i slam
when i'm mad at my teaher
and the paint comes off

this is just to say
i slammed you
and you fell down

-Rajanique

And my favorite...based on a true story, when the child had actually driven a car at age 6.

"Sorry, Car."

Sorry I drove you
and crashed you
into another car.
To me you looked so fun.
I thought it would be very easy.
I didn't really mean to scratch you
and leave a big dent in the front.

But you shouldn't blame me.
Blame my sisters and cousins.
Could you find a way to forgive us
Deep in your engine? --Rakia

Education in Context: Looking Ahead, Looking Back

Here is a familiar scenario:

Parents, community members and the media are outraged. Business leaders claim that today’s education fails to adequately prepare tomorrow’s workforce. Headlines criticize: “Is the public school a failure?” “How much do our schools cost the taxpayer?" And what sort of education are they getting in return? Issues of teacher incompetency and erosion of education quality prevail in the public consciousness. Superintendents across the country bring in consultants and use business tactics to run public schools, promising to lower drop-out rates through more rigorous standards and greater accountability. As a result, teachers’ ability to control their own classroom and curriculum implementation erodes. Teacher unions protest.

Now take a guess as to when such a scenario could have taken place.

Was it last year?
Ten years ago?
How about 100 years ago?

Believe it or not, the scenario above was the state of American education roughly at the turn of the century. The headline “Is the public school a failure?” ran in the Ladies’ Home Journal in 1912. Business leaders testified at the NEA “advising, urging, and warning them to make education more practical” in 1908, citing what at the time was seen as frivolous attention to impractical subjects – like literature, art, and Greek. Concerns that should be familiar to anyone working in education reform today. (Just replace Greek with Latin, or another similarly under-appreciated scholarly subject.)

In chronicling the rise of a professional class of education administrators who turned to brandishing business credentials in running their schools, Raymond E. Callahan compiled many such scenarios in his book – Education and the Cult of Efficiency (University of Chicago Press, 1962).

The stories are painfully familiar – but not unexpected in a country that is still attempting an educational experiment found nowhere else in the world. Offering free education, K through 12, to every citizen of the United States is a bold goal in and of itself, particularly given the challenges educators face. Ensuring that this education is of high quality and effective has been, of course, another matter entirely.

Please stay tuned to my future Friday posts in the Inspired Teacher blog. I hope to present many more such revelations and lessons learned as I delve into the questions of how our current system of education came to be. I am finding that the current push towards innovation and the cultivation of new Common Standards echos the struggles of educators in the 20^th century, even as we are forced to reckon with them in the 21^st.