The Best Teachers

"Tell me and I forget. Teach me and I remember. Involve me and I learn."

Benjamin Franklin

It's 1:30 in the morning.  My head is full and so is my heart.  I keep envisioning the year ahead with all its possibilities...for good and bad.  One aspect of my life that requires attention and much effort is school.  I imagine greeting the kids at school after the two week break. Asking them a billion questions because I want to know everything they did. I want to give them all big hugs.  I can't believe how much I miss seeing them everyday, and watching them in all of their pre-teen glory.  They act as though they have it all figured out.  It drives me crazy the amount of time they correct me on how to be a better teacher, or about how to handle difficult situations.  I often want to react, Cool it kid! Just sit down and shut up and your life will be a whole lot easier.  The reality of that is that it will be easier for me and easier isn't always better.  I know on the inside they are whirling with questions, hormones and insecurities. I've been reflecting on my first part of the year with them and I think I've spent too much time feeding that ugly animal in them.  The truth is they don't need me to tell them what to do ALL the time.  They need me to love them.  Isn't that really how we all grow is when someone takes the time to notice us and nourish us?

My junior year of high school we were given the assignment to write a comparative essay about the book we just finished, Of Mice and Men.  I think I choose to compare two different relationships in the book.  When I got the paper back I got a C-.  I was not very happy about it.  I believed I had worked hard, even done my best.  I didn't want to ask for help, even though I needed it badly.  I was behind in skill and even comprehension.  The previous year, I passed english class with a D!  I had gone to my teacher for help and she would miss our appointments, or blow me off when I tried to catch her after class.  I even took my mom with me before school one time and she was a no show! She would give me a brief response to my questions, which often left me more confused. She was one of the worst teachers I have ever had.  She never left her chair behind the desk, and most days she would talk about Beevis and Butthead ( a popular TV show at the time), which I thought, at 15, was highly inappropriate.  I knew because that was something we were strictly forbidden to watch!  Its funny to me that even at 15 I was eager to be taught and inpatient with the process.  Some things never change;)

It was my American Literature teacher, Jeff Krause, who changed learning for me.  It was his first year of teaching and he was amazing!  After my devastating blow, he offered to the whole class an opportunity for a re-write.  I took it home and looked over his comments for revision and what I needed to change and made the necessary adjustments, not considering taking it to the next level for improvement. I took it back the next day.  The following day after class he gave it back to me and said,"that's better, is it your best?"  He then invited me to see him after school.  I sat by his desk, very nervous about his feedback for me.  It was quite obvious the struggles I was having.  I always liked my English classes and found it thrilling to dissect characters and plots.  Writing was hard for me, and I needed someone to show me how to do it!  I was worried all he would have to say would be negative.

He put my paper out in front of us and began going through each page and making suggestions, "try this, or read this out loud, does it make sense to put it here or does it go somewhere else in the paper?"  He talked with me for about 30 minutes and then said, "go home and see what you can do and bring it back to me tomorrow."  I was amazed, that he would offer his time like that to me.  This process continued everyday for a week.  At the end of the week we were all to hand in our final revisions for a grade, but he had us do this individually by appointment.  I went in that Monday morning nervous for what he would say.  I hadn't ever worked like this on a writing assignment and I really wanted him to feel like it was good enough for...say, like a B?  He pulled out my paper and I initially did not see any red markings, nor did I see a grade.  He looked me straight in the eye and said, "Hello!  Well what do you think about your paper?"  I was totally confused.  "Uh", was my response.  He asked again, "what do you think about your paper?"  I had nothing really to base my answer on.  Certainly I had never actually written anything that was really good before.  I muttered something about working hard and it was better than the C- paper I handed in.  Surely it had to better than what I started with, I thought.  Then he asked an even more incredible question, "what do you think your grade should be?"  I smiled at him like, look mister! You're the teacher, and I have no idea what grade I should get on this paper.  He must have picked up on my feelings because he asked the question again but rephrased it.  "Okay, what grade do you think you deserve?" I was truly puzzled, but I wanted to figure out what it was that he wanted from me by the question, so I thought about it for several minutes.  I knew I had done what he had asked me to do at every step, and I had been faithful in going to see him for help, and I had worked hard.  My thoughts told me not to say more than a B, a B is good, a B is good.  Then I blurted out, "I think I deserve an A!  I worked hard on this paper, its a good paper..."

He smiled at me and softly giggled.  I was at the edge of my seat waiting to see how he would respond.  Of course every kid in class would be coming to him wanting an A, why would he give one to me?
"Dot", he said," you did an excellent job on this paper, it is very good and I also think you deserve an A".
 "Really"?! I said.
"Yes, really"!  Again he softly chuckled.

I just sat there as he wrote the A on top of my paper, I couldn't take my eyes off of it.  I was smiling from ear to ear and felt this ball of emotion in my throat.  I shoved it down and began to thank him over and over and over again for all his time and for all his help.  Mr. Krause opened up the world to me, and I've loved to write ever since.

I have always wanted to be a teacher like that.  He was one of the reasons I wanted to be a teacher.
Being in unfamiliar territory, I want to control it, even the outcomes of what I do and say.  I think I've been making the kids feel like whatever they do for me just isn't good enough.  The reality is is that what they do isn't good enough, but thats because I don't take the time necessary to notice them and nourish them.  Most of them are working at it and improving.  90% of the kids I work with are two grade levels behind, and they really struggle.  I want them to pick up after themselves, and keep their shirts tucked in (uniform standard), and to say mine instead of mines!  The list could go on and on about what they are not doing, but that's not really what matters.  I need to notice their strengths and nourish the areas where they are weak.

One of the goals I set this year was to reach out to one person everyday.  Not someone I live with, or someone that I normally and naturally attach myself to, but someone that I struggle to connect to and get along with...So, if you get a call...

I know that I can do better with my students to at least have them want to come to class, and feel comfortable asking questions and then allow the rest to fall into place.
I really struggle to step outside of my personal bubble or to let anyone inside that bubble.  That little bit of a ripple is chaos.  So in an effort to transform, I am doing it!  To shake me up and to hopefully improve the atmosphere with my students.  We don't change without somehow changing the people around us, and I want to make sure that I am making that change for good! After all, to get anywhere with anyone we need love and compassion.

I really, really struggle with my social anxiety, and personal insecurities and only when someone has put forth the effort in someway to let me know it was okay to take a step forward is when I have been able to really leap from where I'm at, and be open to listening to changes that I have needed to make.

  I have learned so much more from those who have opened themselves up to me, and explained life, asked me questions, put an arm around me and walked with me for a while, then from anyone just telling me what to do, or reading about how to change.  I am truly grateful to those people who have come and gone, and who are now a part of my life who have taken me by the hand, or given me a gentle nudge and said here let me show you, and then given me the chance to try it.  It is those small and simple acts, that truly last forever!

I need to stop getting motivated and inspired to write in the middle of the night!!!