I have had a veritable plethora of blog drafts rolling through my head lately. Maybe it is the end of the school year vibe, or the fact that I have trouble even finishing sentences lately, or maybe the guilt I am swallowing as I avoid grading, but those drafts don't fully develop before I move on to the next amazing thought. Then, last week, I read Micheala Esau's latest offering in the William Jewell student publication. It was a list of things she has learned during her first year of college. Yesterday, Lindsey Maschler structured her welcome speech at Buhler High graduation as a list of things she will miss and not miss from her time in high school. As so often happens, inspiration came from my students, or in this case, former students. So, my end of the school year 2019 list is here. I guess it is for teachers.
Listen to your students.
This should be a no-brainer, but it is amazing how often we need to be reminded to just listen once in a while. I have a huge advantage over some teachers in the fact that both of my kids who share my DNA have also been my students. Emily, currently driving toward the end of her college career, is my go to resource for Pop Culture Literature. She is insightful and thoughtful, and her ideas on what will touch a nerve or feed a flame with my current students is invaluable. She reminds me that each student is so much more than "just a kid", and that words, looks, and actions have meaning. My son Dylan, who graduated yesterday, has offered me the opportunity to truly step into the shoes of a student in our classes. He is honest and fair. He does not complain to complain, so I know when he tells me something he has noticed, it is sincere, and when he tells me what is triggering new thinking or causing him to view things from a new perspective, those observations are legitimate. I have the advantage of daily professional learning through honest student feedback, and I need to take advantage of that.
My other kids, the ones whose parents share with me as they walk our halls and stride through my classroom door, need to be heard just as often. "Duh." you say. And you are right. But this goes so far beyond listening to see if a kid knows the answer for an upcoming test, or if they have questions of the material from yesterday's lecture. We use discussion often in our classroom. During our Honors Sophomore English Exit Interviews this spring, the most consistent feedback has related to the importance of those discussions. Students say that it is during discussions that they feel they have grown the most as learners, and often as people. Some pointed out that discussions have taught them that it is important to listen to the ideas other people have because it has caused them to think more deeply about their own ideas. It is ok to think differently from another person and listen to what they have to say. It is ok to disagree with other people and speak up with civil confidence in a way that will allow them to hear you. It is ok to disagree with yourself. That comment struck me. One student who said that for the first time, she let herself be wrong, and that that is what allowed her to learn. This happened during discussion. Some days, I played an incredibly minor role in discussion. Those were the amazing days. Those were the days that students not only thought deeply, but listened just as deeply, and by stepping back, they owned the material, the lesson, the learning. I know this because I could listen to them. They taught me new ways to approach things. They renewed my excitement. They allowed me to grow as a teacher and as a person.
Currently, we are in the process of exploring ways to improve our schools. The process is called redesign. The greatest resource we have had in this process has been our students. They have incredible ideas, and they will find the research to back it up. We have to listen to them. I heard someone complain that when we ask students for input on big issues such as redesign, the kids just don't understand how the system works. I completely agree. And that is one of their greatest assets. They are not bound by "the system", so their ideas are not restricted by it, and that is what we need. Sometimes, we have to get out of our own way, and listening to our kids just might be a way to do that.
Listening to our kids is a continuous process that takes on many forms. I won't go into them all here, but just think about how often we have the chance to really listen to our students, and, sadly, how often we forget to do that.
That leads me to item #2 on my list:
Be a learner. Always. Growth is just as important for teachers as it is for students.
I would say that for many teachers, one of their hopes is that when a student leaves their classroom, that young person is in some way better than when they walked through the door for the first time. I know it is one of my top goals. But guess what: each of those students is going to have an effect you too. The learning that goes on is a two way street. And because of the students who I am blessed to work with, I am a better teacher, a better leader, and a better person.
Sometimes, that learning is content-focused. Every year, something happens that causes me to view our literature in a new perspective. It might be the student who lights up as she picks up on new allusions that had set hidden before she uncovered them. It might be a use of color symbolism in a new film that a student tweets about over Christmas break. Of course, those content-based epiphanies usually springboard into even more significant learning, swirling into themes and perspectives that go far beyond the page.
Sometimes, that learning has little to do with content. It is about people. And when it comes down to it, that is what is most important, regardless of content. My kids have taught me enough about patience, tolerance, grace, resilience, and vulnerability to fill volume upon volume of teacher education textbooks, textbooks which no one would probably read, because you have to be in the middle of it to learn these lessons. And for those who ask "But what about the content?" these are the lessons that allow content to be learned. Not learned more effectively; learned at all.
Once again, this leads to my next item:
Be open.
I tell my students that when we write, really write as we want to write, we are sweating and bleeding on the page. That is difficult. And if we expect young people to shed that metaphorical blood, we have to be willing to do the same. Sometimes it is in the form of laughter; sometimes it is tears. Sometimes it is simply being willing to admit a mistake. That whole "Never let them see you sweat" or "Don't smile before Christmas" garbage has gotten in the way of so many promising teachers. Does anyone actually believe it makes you a better teacher? We want our kids to stretch and risk failure. Guess what? That means we have to be open to failure too, and we have to be vulnerable with our kids to do that.
We also need to be open to letting other people in our rooms. This could be sharing our stories on social media, celebrating our student successes. It could be asking questions on that platform to gain new insights from our PLN. It could be listening to parents' concerns and seeing where they arise from. It could be welcoming other teachers into our classrooms. We are not in competition. We are in this together.
This spring, I had a student-teacher for the first time. I had STs come into my room in the past, but in my 25 years, I had never allowed myself to welcome a preservice teacher into my world for a whole semester. I can tell you this: it has been one of the best experiences of my professional career. She has forced me to examine why I do some of the things I do, she has identified areas in which I need to improve, and she has brought fresh ideas and perspectives to my classroom. In short, she has made me a better teacher, and she is a new friend. If I had let my insecurity keep that door closed, the biggest losers would have been me and, in turn, my students.
For now, I will end this list with this related item:
Find your people.
We are not in this alone. Teaching is a social profession and a collective passion. We cannot do it alone, and we do not have to. I touched briefly on the advantage of having a student-teacher this semester. She is now one of my people, and we were blessed to have real-time conversations on a daily basis. Sometimes, we helped each other improve from one day to the next, or from one moment to the next. That blessing extends down my hall. The best support system I could ask for is only a few steps away. Hallway collaboration is a powerful tool, and at times in my career I have not taken advantage of that. The teachers, coaches, administration around me each day are an uplifting force. I couldn't survive without them.
I know some people will say, "That is nice if you have those people down the hall. But I am my whole department" or "The people down the hall are kind of toxic. I can't deal with that right now." Fair enough. However, your people are not limited by the walls of your building. Some of the best "people" I have are elementary teachers. I always admired grade school teachers, but I now know just how much I can learn and grow from being around them. It's incredible.
Go even further: your people are only a tweet, vox, or insta post away. Voxer groups give me a chance to connect with awesome teachers in an instant. I learn and draw inspiration each and every day from teachers across the country thanks to Twitter. Hanna Lehr, that student-teacher I was bragging about, turned me on to so many new resources on Instagram. I have been active as an educator on Twitter for quite a while, but this is a new platform for me, and it offers new chances to grow. So reach out. My Twitter handle is @JasonKohls. You may not gain a lot from following me, but you will get to see the amazing people I follow, and what hashtags might offer a chance to connect further. And I follow back. I fill my timeline with as much positive learning portals as I can.
There you have it, my list. I know it rambled and is yet incomplete. It is what it is.
What would you add?
