Maybe that was why I was so happy to get a message this summer from a young person who graduated last May. She wanted to share an idea for a lesson that she thought sounded like something I and other English teachers on our team would use in our classes. It meant a great deal to me that she would read about a lesson that she felt would be good for our students and share it with me. She cares not just about her education, but about the kids that will follow her now that she has graduated.
The lesson was not strictly "English" in nature. It was social-emotion, focusing on empathy, compassion, trust, and relationships. I will admit that the ELA classroom, with writing, literature, and communication as the daily focus, has at its center those concepts a great deal of the time. I try to reflect often on what works in my classroom, what helps students learn and grow, and what might keep kids from learning and growing as much as they could. I do not do it nearly enough, but I do try. So, I asked her why she thought of us when she read this lesson. She had been a good student, she had grown throughout her HS years, maturing and developing not just as a writer and reader, but also as a person, and she had found a place in several different classrooms. I felt her insights would be valuable, and I wanted to know more.
The lesson she shared provides students with a way to share the weight of some of what they carry with them each day, to understand one another better. It gives kids a chance to find commonality and build trust. I asked her why this lesson was one she connected with her ELA teachers. Her response, while short, was meaningful. "...you guys just have that environment in your classrooms. It's not just about English. It's almost more of what words can do for you."
"It's not just about English. It's almost more of what words can do for you."
The way she phrased that idea really struck me. It's about what words can do for you. Isn't that what we are aiming for each and every day? If our classes are just about memorizing grammar rules or learning to narrow down answers on a standardized test, are we really giving our kids skills, inspirations, or passions that will drive them in the future? Isn't it better to help them learn to express themselves in their writing and find themselves, or others, in literature?
So, fast forward to today. Recently, we "finished" our exploration of Fahrenheit 451. ("Finished" because we are never really finished with a novel, if it touches us, are we?) On the reflection students completed, I received a comment. It hit me, hard, in the face, and continues to pound me in the gut. With her permission, I share it with you here:
"I thought the novel was interesting, and I am glad I got to be pushed out of my comfort zone to read something I probably wouldn't be able to understand. After reading this book it has made me rethink a lot about myself, and how little I question anything anymore. It is a little sad that out of everything, I am probably the biggest Mildred in your class, and a little funny to see myself that way. I always have taken things as they are presented to me, and just did the work. I never questioned it, and I think it's this looming anxiety that often controls me to not ask because I am afraid of breaking rules. Everyone thinks I am smart, and often says that, but I am nothing without school, and I know that. All my peers know how to be humans, and I am just a product of a system with no real outside knowledge other than what I get from Youtube. I have opinions, don't get me wrong, and I will stand up for them if it involves someone else, but I have no world sense and I haven't questioned anything important since kindergarten. I am so afraid of being wrong that I have spent too much time looking for the right answers that everyone else wants to hear, that I let myself get shadowed away. After reading this book I want to change that. I want to be more assertive, and I thank you for this opportunity."
"I am nothing without school, and I know that...I am so afraid of being wrong that I have spent too much time looking for the right answers that everyone else wants to hear, that I let myself get shadowed away."
Shadowed away. This young person is bright. She is "perfect student" by so many measures. While she is reluctant to admit it, she is creative. She has grown immensely in the short time we have had together this fall, primarily through her own efforts. She began the year frustrated because our discussions and activities often were such that the "right answers" were not laid out, there to be copied into notes and memorized. But she fought through that frustration and took part, cultivating an inquisitive nature that is obviously there, clearly waiting to be nurtured and fed. And yet, the words she used to describe herself were "Nothing without school" and "shadowed away".
That makes me shudder.
And we have allowed this to happen.
We have.
Us.
How many discoveries have were put on hold, how many cures for diseases, novels that inspire and challenge, businesses that build the community, or passions that create happiness have we stomped on, have we shadowed away in the search for the right answer, the test score, the data to publish in the newspaper to show we are better than the district down the road?
How many kids have we allowed to feel like "nothing"?
We know it is not true, but that is the perception, and, therefore, for her, and for so many others, it is their reality.
So, what can we learn from these two students who have shared their thoughts with me? What do they tell us about what we are doing well in school today, or maybe should be doing to best serve our kids?
I know that teachers want what is best for our kids. I see that every single day and witness incredible interactions and growth in kids, teachers, and administrations. Amazing things are happening in our schools, and outstanding people are leaving our doors and changing the world. But, let's be honest: we can do better. We owe it to the young people we mingle with each day. How can we build on those great ideas, put them into motion, and make the best for our kids? How can we ignite meaningful, positive change and growth, and make the best things we are doing better, for our kids? How can we tap into the hearts and passions of those very kids and provide the springboards that will let them succeed, not in just being good students, but in being amazing human beings?
The fact is, this amazing young person (both of them) is reflecting and growing. I am proud of her and inspired by her ability to look inward to see how she can be better. She is so incredibly far from "nothing". She is pushing herself to be a better her. She is pushing me to be better. She is stepping out of the shadows.
Now, how do we do the same?
