Limits and perceptions. That’s what I was thinking about this morning as I moved along the dark streets. But, I almost didn’t make iohe streets this morning. I DID NOT want to go out for a walk this morning. When I woke up I felt like every movement need an earth-moving effort. I was tighter than a proverbial drum; my muscles were in knotts; my joints ached. I felt as if I had just come off a medieval rack after being torturously drawn all night. I gropped and staggered as I put on my walking grubbies and shoes, brewed some coffee, and muttered and moaned as I lay on the floor enduring each torturous undulating stretch–that rack sounds good. “Aaaaarg! Why aren’t I in bed next to Susan? Daaaaaamn! Normal people aren’t doing this at this weird time. Ooooooooow! The blasted (not the word I used) sun is still sleeping! Aaaaaah! Who’s gonna give a flip (not the word I was thinking) whether I walk this morning or not.” I was not convincing.

I reluctantly opened the door, slowly went down the driveway, took a quick few steps on the street, and stopped, saying to myself, “You don’t have it today.” I turned back towards the house without moving. I was not convincing. Then, I turned again towards the street, started off, went about a half block, and stopped, saying “It’s not there.” I was not convincing. Finally, I said to myself, “No, you can do this and you are going to do it.” So, off I went with feet feeling so leadened I almost looked back to see if I was leaving tracks in the asphalt.

It was a tough walk for the first mile or so, but then….slowly…the plods turned into prances, the bumpiness smoothened into a glide, the resounding thuds stilled into a blissful silence, and my grumbling quieted into a listening. My spirit was taking hold.

As I danced along the back half of what was turning out to be an unexpected refreshing walk, I started thinking about how I had almost succeeded in placing such limits on myself about twenty minutes earlier that I wouldn’t have found out that “it” was there and I did have “it.” “It” was only buried a little deeper than usual, was harder to see, and took a bit more effort and determination to get at. As I was thinking about what I almsot had done to myself, I slowly discovered an answer for a question a graduate who had been in my classes threw out at me as we met at the checkout counter of a local supermarket. (I was getting ingredients to prepare a candle light dinner for Susan–we’re still celebrating our 30th)

As the cashier was running the groceries past the scanner, Sandra and I started chatting. She told me that she had just started teaching and nervously had entered her first classroom last week. I congratulated her. “I care about the students. I want to be like you,” she said, “and do for them like you did for us, but I’m not sure how to do that.”

“Well, the first things,” I replied. “is just be Sandra, not Louis. You can’t be me, but you can work at being you and help your students be themselves. Still got the syllabus from the class?”

“You kiddin. It’s my bible.”

Well just keep struggling to follow those ‘Rules of the Road’ and the rest will usually take care of itself, just like it eventually did in our class.”

We chit-chatted some more. “Good luck, you’ll do fine,” I reassured her as I departed. “Stop in for a Tootsie Pop and we’ll talk.”

Last night she sent me an e-mail message saying that she wanted to talk some more when she had the chance. She wanted some “guideline” for acting in the classroom as she started his teaching career. “How about telling me something more than I got in methodology classes. No lengthy message or long set of rules, Schmier,” was her charge. “Just a sentence, not more than two, doc, and more than just to really care. I need to know more then what technique to use. I need to know when to use something and not use it and how to use it, maybe even why to use it.” I could see her smirk as she inflicted the confining agony of economy. But, it is a fabulous, penetrating, and challenging question.

Then, a discussion in which I am enbroiled on an e-mail list over whether students are getting worse and a brief conversation about what business we’re in I just had with an e-mail friend, Sanda Kelley-Daniel in Hawaii, started popping into my head. Sanda and I talked about how what we do in the classroom, how we relate to both ourselves and the students, depends on whether we think of ourselves as laborers, teachers, scholars, learners, researchers, and/or professors; whether we see being in the classroom as a job, a profession, a craft, an art, a calling, and/or a mission. We talked about how so many of us delude ourselves into thinking that we see people and things objectively as they are, when we really subjectively see people and things as we are; that our perceptions, which drive–and brake–our actions and expressions and thoughts, come out from within us; and that we create the vehicle of our own unique world view of things. I told Sandra that I thought language is far from neutral. It is very involved in this process of perception and self-perception, as well as our attempt to evaluate and create reality. Our language does not get its meaning from “people and things out there” but we stick signs on them that are fashioned from within ourselves. In other words, people are anything until we make them into something–students, for example–and then they “are” whatever we make them. If I say “Mary is dumb” or “James doesn’t not belong here”, what I’m really saying is “Mary’s and James’ performance don’t reach the expectations I have set. They are disappointing to me. I am frustrated or angry. When I say “Mary is dumb” or “James doesn’t belong here”, I’m not really putting my finger on their characteristics. What I am really expressing is my evaluations of them. So, when I say “Mary is dumb” or “James doesn’t belong here”, I talking about myself, my perceptions–the limits or freedoms I place on what I think and how I act and interact–a heck of a lot more than I am talking about Mary and James.

So, as I turned the corner at the end of my walk and approached my house, it hit me. I screamed out a, “YES”, and clenched my fists as I raised both arms skyward. I felt like tearing off my grubbies and walking the last few feet butt naked as if I were Achimedes. This is what I decided to write Sandra:

Sandra, you gave me a two sentence limit. That was not
very nice. But, here it is: Let the students strive for
their fullest potential and struggle not to restrict them
by the limits of your own perceptions of them. At the same
time, let yourself strive for your fullest potential and fight
tooth and nail not to be restricted by the limits of either
your or others’ perceptions of you. Hey, coming to think of
it, that’s a great guideline for me to follow.
I’m sure Kim and I will talk some more.
Make it a good day.

–Louis–

It was an interesting walk this morning. When I walk the dark, quiet streets, I take myself out of sight, away from where things that are happening, where shadows hide threat and exposure, and the day’s sounds have yet to echo, out of the line of fire. The pre-dawn streets are free from clogging traffic. They’re a place to shake things out, where I turn on the fluoroscope to my soul, where I can listen for the sounds and look for the signs and signals that stir my emotions and freely express my inner voices.

Yet, I was thinking about Friday afternoon when outer voices were trying to shake me, when I was in the spotlight, on the spot, exposed, in someone’s sights, under fire.

It was about 2:00 p.m. The sunlite campus was almost as quiet as my pre-dawn streets. We’re between quarters and the University is nearly a ghost town. The internet had been off-line for a few days as our computer people were upgrading the University’s system, and I was beginning to experience withdrawal pains of isolation. I was in the office starting to prepare for my fall quarter classess. Then, the telephone rang. I picked it up with a smile on my face expecting to hear once again my beautiful, mysterious, and exciting Susan with some soft, enticing, whispered sweet nothings. We had been bantering back and forth for the past few days like two teenagers experiencing puppy love as we continued to celebrate our 30th wedding anniversary.

But, the sound at the other end of the receiver was loud and sour instead of soft and sweet. If it didn’t prove to be harmless, it would have conjured up images of demonic hoods instead of angelic wings.

“Why don’t you go back where you came from and stop bothering us with your nonsensical ideas about our schools,” the nameless voice barked and hung up.

I hadn’t taken my hand of the receiver then a series of other nameless calls came in rapid fire:

“Make no never mind with all that other new-fangled stuff. Just teach them the 3Rs. They need to learn the fundamentals.”

“It’s people like you who don’t believe in the fundamentals who are destroying this country.”

“All that other fancy stuff you wrote about is useless crap.”

“Stop your poor-mouthin’. We have to have standards in our school!”

“You attiackin’ us good folk won’t do no good. You one of them socialist people?”

“We don’t need New Age people like you spreading your unholiness.”

“We don’t need people like you hereabouts ruining our childrens’ lives.”

“You’re tearing down our community’s future…..”

“If you don’t like our schools, move away!!”

Just a few minutes of noise and then it was back to silence. I guess someone had a meeting of some sort and the people got around to discussing my letter to the editor which had appeared last week in our local newspaper and stood in line to call me.

What did I write? Nothing sufficiently subversive or corrupt to burn a cross on my front lawn. Responding to some comments made by our new Superintendent of the city scool system that were quoted in a newspaper article, I said that the work of the teacher must go far beyond merely preparing the students for the workplace and that our schools must be more than testing factories.

One of the callers did wait long enough to allow me to say that I’m not a devotee of the New Age movement and I do believe in students learning fundamentals.

And, I do. I believe that students must learn their 3Rs–figuratively in higher education. And, I set high educational standards. In fact, I think the standards I impose on both my self and the students are both much more basic and yet much higher and more demanding than merely the rote training of students in the basic “how to” skills of the 3Rs.

I believe that teaching the literal or figurative 3Rs don’t mean a thing if we educators are not centrally concerned with the students’ character and the kind of people they will be, and don’t simultaneously address the issue of how and to what ends the students will use those skills once they leave our schools. The educational standards I impose demand that I as an educator struggle to help ALL students–as partner with them–find the confidence in their ability to learn; instil or increase their desire to learn; increase their capacity to learn; instil in them a love for learning; help create a sense of and joy in learning; guide them into becoming vigorous, independent, self-directed, self-motivated learners; help them discover the adventure, excitement, and accomplishment in the uneasy process of growth and development; help each of them discover and honor his or her uniqueness and value; help them become compassionate human beings with a tolerance for others, a commitment to others, and a respect for the dignity of others; and finally help start them walking on the road of becoming thoughtful, contributing citizens and community leaders.

After the telephone stopping ringing, I wrote another letter to the editor.

Make it a good day.

–Louis–

Date: Tue, 20 Aug 1996 04:10:50 -0400 (EDT)
Subject: Random Thought:

It’s 3:28 a.m. I’m having trouble sleeping. My head is pounding, my nose is stuffed, my eyes burn from a sinus cold that erupted Sunday without warning. The medicene is working too, too slowly.

I’ve been roaming among the student journals, project evaluations, my daily written comments and observations, final student self-evaluations and evaluations of other members of their triads that are strewn about the living room as I struggle with that very uneducational process of assigning final course grades. I’ve been thinking about how so many of us use the grade as a sorting mechanism that slots students into “A”, “B”, “C”, “D”, “F” pigeon holes; how so many of use a number or a letter to decide if a student as bright, average, dumb, good or bad. But, you know if we use an acadmeic numerical or letter grade as the only way we keep score of people, if we use a grade or GPA or score to decide whom we like or dislike, whom we admire or disdain, whom we find exciting and interesting or a bore, whom we notice or ignore, whom we applaud or grumble about, whom we brag about or complain about, whom we elevate or denigrated, whom we respect or disrespect, whom we befriend or shun, whom we love or even hate, then, every other human quality, relationship, dream, endeavor in our schools is corrupted.

I hope this glass of warm milk does it work fast. Good night–or should I say good morning.

Make it a good day.

–Louis–

A lot of people have been writing me, mostly off-list, saying something like, “Wow, that’s a lot of ‘whethers’.” And I’ve been answering each person, until my newly manicured nails (I’m still clean from my nail-biting habit–a week over seven months since my fingers have approached my mouth) threaten to crack. So, as I’ve done before–and I hope you don’t think it presumptuous–I’d like to issue an on-list response that parallels the ones I’ve already sent out.

Now, I admit that are a lot of “whethers”, but hoping I don’t appear defensive about the number I think I they flowed out because at that moment I was thinking about a lot of criticisms of, questions about, and pressures on us as educators coming from all directions and sectors about a whole spectrum of matters.

As I re-read this last Random Thought, which I rarely do, to respond to the comments, I started thinking of conversations, both current and past, on the internet, at conferences, and on my particular campus–and now Bob Dole’s acceptance speech. These discussions reveal how so many of us in education frequently feel we should be left alone–trusted unequivocally–as the professional and expert educators we are, to go about our business with little, if any, answerability or accountability–“assessment” and “interference” is the most commonly used euphemisms. So many of us dismiss critics or even questioners out of hand as amateurs or interlopers or with a somewhat arrogant or self-righteous–and defensively protective–“what do they know or understand.” So many of us yearn for the time the classroom door was closed tighter than the bedroom door–and only we had a key–when we were revered as possessors of wisdom and truth, when we were placed on pedestals and adored as betters by the lesser commoners, when were lionized as an elite of the pure by the unclean, when we were cannonized as some higher order of human specie. These people–far too many–moan and groan that today’s ivory tower has fallen before the assault of those lesser beings, that they in the sordid “outside”, “material”, “real” world have opened the door for anyone who may wish to enter. Some of us–too many–are nervous to discover that our annointment with degree and/or hood does not mean we’re better than anyone else, perhaps not even wiser. At the same time, some of us wish to proclaim on one hand that what we do in academia has not only of social relevancy, but of social significance, maybe even urgent. And yet, on the other hand, we do not want to recognize the existence of a consequent inseparable organic unity between “us” and “them” that creates a mutually dependent “we”; we beg–maybe demand–for all kinds of unquestioned moral and financial support and resist the fact that such endowments gives the “outside world” a vested interest in an accounting of the goings-on in the schools.

But, the invasive “outside world” won’t go away. And so, during the past 30 years, we educators have felt more and more that whatever we do is public property and will be scrutinized by the public. We feel that a horde of people are looking over my shoulder. We feel everything we do will be reviewed by both the responsible and irresponsible, by both the knowledgeable and uninformed, by the reflective and the superficial, by the understanding and insensitive. Like being scanned by a massive MRI machine, there are times we feel we have no place to hide, nothing that can be hidden, no privacy, no secret places, nowhere to go that is not open to view and subject to evaluation.

Everyone is ever conscious of the educator; they make the educator self-conscious of being under the proverbial microscope or on the equally proverbial stage or on the altar as a sacrificial scapegoat. Because of the democratization of education beginning shortly after WW II, the Cold War catalyized by sputnik, the Civil Rights and Feminist movements, the information revolution, the transformation created by the computer, and a host of other reasons the idea has appeared that access to an education is an American birthright. Consequently, the educator has become is part of a way of American life; the educator has become more than ever before a public resource in the service of the national economic interest and the defense of “truth, justice, and the American way”; the educator is now a part of the public economic, social, cultural–and political–conversation, discussion, and argument.

From these exchanged emerge the pressures, demands, and expectations from professional critics, education experts–all kinds of experts–Boards of Education, Regents, parents, students, state legislators and bureaucrats, federal business people, legislators and bureaucrats, each other. People in society know they need education, but they can’t agree what it is they need, why they need it, and how to best fulfill those needs. People are screaming at educators, “You’re not doing your job.” But, no one can agree just what that job is. (Heck, even we in academia can’t agree and offer the people a single set of responses). They search into, under, around, over, on top of; they interpret, diagnose, evaluate, test, experiment, examine, compare, contrast, relate, probe, flatten, pound, roll, fold, introduce, demand, request, license, specify; they incite, infect, inflame, inflict, infringe, inform, inhibit, instruct, invade, invoke, influence, ingratiate, interrogate, indict. There are the tidal flows of people, agendas, philosophies, ideologies, principles, technologies, orientations, biases, prejudices, pedagogies, gimmicks, fads. There are the pushes and pulls of social, economic, technological, cultural transformations. There are the pushes and pulls of global transformation.

They all form a giant ear and hear all that the educators says; they are a single cyclops eye and see all the educators do; but they are many mouths and speak in different, confusing and often conflicting tongues. Yet, they speak at the same time. Their voices mingle, merge, cling, overwhelm, surround, challenge, joust, assault, overtake, hover, prescribe, determine, decide, propose, ambush, embrace, support, encourage. Sometimes I think the educator is walking down a carnival midway, assaulted by a cacaphony of hawkers: “Stop wasting time and funds with the arts?” “Just teach them the 3Rs.” “Don’t forget the sports program.” “Internationalize the curriculum! “We want them to get a better job.” “Produce professionals.” “Produce a labor force.” “Follow this policy.” “Produce patriots.” “Track them.” “Mainstream.” “Turnout socially conscious citizens.” “Launch self-learning individuals.” “Fill out these forms.” “Let us homeschool” “Give us vouchers.” “We want educational competition” “Tell them all about sex and make them understand that unprotected sex is dangerous.” “You’re not their parents.” “Don’t dare touch…..” “Use the paddle.” “Teach them this” “Don’t teach them that.” “Have a vocational prep curriculum.” “Teach them the value of gender and cultural diversity.” “Serve my handicapped child.” “Don’t you dare use the paddle.” “Have them ask questions, but only give them the right answers.” “Don’t say…..” “Teach them the value of family.” “Make sure they achieve the scores.” “Grade.” “Test.” “Assess.” “Do you encourage….?” “Make sure you preserve the traditions we’ve built.” “Take care of the stuff we don’t have time or inclination to do at home.” “Teach them the virtues capitalism” “Teach them that capitalism evil.” “Teach them the value of work.” “They’ve got to be disciplined.” “Make them communally responsible.” “Make sure they still believe in God.” “Do you believe in….?” “Teach them to think for themselves.” “Say ‘No’ to drugs.” “Do you support….?” “Teach them to respect alternative ways of living.” “Teach them to be moral” “We want them to physically in shape.” And goodness know what else “they” are asking and demanding and shouting about. It’s enough to cross Solomon’s eyes and give anyone an Excedrin headache No. 33.

But, how do we respond to all these different criticisms? How do we deal with these diverse pressures. How do we answer the horde of questions? How do we respond to the host of demands? Do we click our ruby shoes together or wish upon star? Do we bury our heads in the sand and make believe these forces will go away? Do we cover our eyes and hold up a cross before us hoping to ward off the devil? Do we unsheath our sword and stand fast ready to do battle to the death? Do we surrender, grovel, and submit in resignation? Do we cordially, collegially, respectfully engage in conversation and use the power of persuastion?

I think the answer lays entirely in our attitude–or, at least, it begins with ourselves–a way of thinking and feeling about ourselves as people, a way of thinking about education, a way of thinking about ourselves as educators, a way of thinking about others, a way of dealing with criticism and inquiry, and a way of accepting growth and change. It’s an attitude of seeing that there is no end, no place; the search and task of education is never completely done; everything and every day is a new beginning; every day is a new adventure, a new challenge, a new discovery. It’s all just journey, just process, just becoming. At the moment we stop probing, questioning, answering, reflecting, articulating, learning, changing, growing, developing, we each become a closed down, fossilized, arrogant, blinded, and deafened system. Maybe many of us are so defensive of these interrogations is that they are forcing us–or at least demanding–out of the dolrums of our familiar habits, comforting routine, arrogance and complacency.

We have to face our critics and engage them constructively; we have to remain quiet, ward off the emotional knee-jerks reactions and quickened impetus to talk, and sincerely listen. We have to sincerely reflect on the value of their words–which often means with a great deal of lip-biting, teeth-gnarling, anxiety, discomfort, and maybe pain. And, we have to articulate a reasoned and rational response. We have to see the value in the question more and see questioning as an attack less; we have to see the strength in articulation and accountability more and see weakness in the need to formulate an answer less. We have to use these people as a positive force, not as an enemy to be shunted aside merely because we are afraid of or have a disdain to be examined.

Maybe we can use criticism and questioning to become more aware of others and ourselves, to gain greater understanding of others and ourselves, to be better informed of others and ourselves. Maybe we can use the criticisms to become more competent and more proficient, to acquire a more reflective and argued base–the “whys”–for what we believe and do, to formulate an more articulated vision. Maybe, if we are becoming more aware, if we are experimenting with learning new ways and new ways of learning, if we are learning how to use the new technology, if we are stretching our minds, if we are examining our beliefs, if we are evaluating our methods, if we are challenging our values, and if we can answer the questions and deal with the criticism and meet the challenge, we can enlist them to help us–and they can enlist us to assist them–to understand what are the multiple purposes and goals of education and how can they possibly be achieved.

Make it a good day.

–Louis–

Got hit by a question Friday by both some students during a Tootsie Pop clutch in the Student Union and an e-mail friend on the internet. I promised them an answer tomorrow. They wanted to know, what with education being THE issue of the 90’s, what I thought was the greatest danger to my teaching and who was the greatest enemy to me as a teacher.

Well, here it is, about 5:30 in the morning, sitting in my soaking wet my grubbies. If my questioners had been walking along side me this morning during me my five mile wade I would have been quick to tell them that the my answer is this insufferable and unrelenting heat and humidity. But, after a settling cup of freshly brewed aromatic Tanzanian coffee, I came up with a better answer.

From their conversations, I think I know or partially know who they’re expecting me to point the finger of blame at. I know many of you think the _greatest_ danger comes from shrinking budgets. Many think imposing administrators pose the _greatest_ threat. When the issue of the _greatest_ danger to education arises, federal, state and local government often quickly comes to mine for more than a few. How about from parents as some say? I don’t think so. From legislators? No. From bureaucracts? No. From experts? No. From professional critics? No. From school board members or Regents? No. From students? No. These people certainly present challenges, problems, difficulties, barricades even dangers. But, I don’t think they’re my answer.

So, what’s my answer? I thought I’d share it with you. Maybe it will strike up a discussion. You may be surprised as they may well be. I know the student willbe. For whatever it is worth, the _greatest_ danger to my teaching is *MY* attitude!! And the greatest enemy to me as a teacher is, as Walt Kelly said in Pogo, *ME*!!

I don’t believe who I am as a teacher–or a person for that matter–is determined by external circumstances or another person as much as many people say. Who I am as a teacher–or a person for that matter–is a set of attitudes for which I must take ownership from which stem actions and actions for which I must assume responsibility.

No one can decide for me whether I should belief this or that, do this or that, which I’m should be on a high or in a low, whether I should smile at students or sneer at them, whether I notice each of them or let them go unnoticed, whether I should dance to class or truge, whether my pace should be quick or slothy, whether I should be vibrant or stifled, whether I should be dynamic or stagnant, whether I should sing or grumble, whether I should be excited or bored, whether I should feel or am numb, whether I should pressure or am pressured, whether I should stand up and be counted or sit down and be discounted, whether I should risk or nest safely, whether I should be visible or hidden, whether I should have heart or am disheartened, whether I should bubble or am stagnant, whether I should keep the pot stirred or let it settle, whether I should be imaginative or dull, whether I should be intuitive or go by the book, whether I should create or copy, whether I should dare to try new things or am stuck in mechanized routine, whether I should reach for the unknown or prefer the safety and comfort of the familiar, whether I should be a part of or remain apart from, whether I should constantly probe and question and reflect or am complacent, whether I should be humbly open or arrogantly closed, whether I should challenge or submit and suffer, whether I should face up to or get faced down, whether I should care or could care less, whether I should be fearless or fearful, whether I should be young in heart or have a fossilized spirit, whether I should listen and reflect and answer or talk and ignore, whether I shoould adventurous every day or forever sedentary, whether teaching for me should be just a job or a mission, whether I should celebrate with a “rah” and a “yes” or groan a “bah, humbug”, whether I should believe or disbelieve, whether I should shout a “wow” or daily yawn a “ho-hum”, whether I am turned on or turned off, and whether I am honest and strong enough to assume the ownership and responsibility for my own actions or I surrender my independence with a host of enslaving, rationalizing “they made me…” and excusing “what can I do” and submitting “if I want to get along, I have to go along.”

No, I think only I can truly make these decisions for me, unless, of course….*I* decide to let someone else make them for me.

Make it a good day.

–Louis–

The clock says it’s 5:05. I just came in from doing what seemed to be a five mile breast-stroke through the heavy and quiet darkness. The incessant, torrential rains of the stormy last few days have left the humidity at flood level. Even the mosquitoes have put on their water wings. As I wandered the quiet, wet streets, I found I had a few more “you knows” in me. I think they were brought to the surface as I started thinking about a dinner conversation I overheard last weekend between my beautiful wife and a dear friend, a teacher in the local school system, as the latter unloaded about the travails of the start-up of the coming school year. These are the “you knows” that randomly popped into my head as a slide along the asphalt:

——————————————————————————–
You know:
….to be a teacher is to assume the weighty responsibility of a herculean, heroic mission. It means helping awaken and keep awake the sleeping potential within each student, being involved in the vital and noble process of making and shaping other persons

….teachers are not some specially endowed herculean organism isolated from and free of the pressures and demands of the world and separated from humanity. They are frail, imperfect, vulnerable, noble human beings possessing dreams and nightmares, strengths and weaknesses, blessings and sins, courage and timidity, impartiality and biases, securities and insecurities, tolerations and prejudices, boundlessness and limitations just like the rest of us folk who should be treated and respected as the professionals and human beings they are.

….a teacher should be something of an optimist and idealist. The teacher does today for the unknown tomorrow, touches the future with his/her presence, works for horizons beyond his/her own vision, invites each student to reach toward unknown horizons

….maybe we should not and cannot expect and demand of teachers what we do not expect and demand of ourselves in our own personal lives and workplace;

….a teacher should inspire each student to move toward the expression of his/her own uniqueness, should stimulate the student to engage in his/her own groping, searching, living, thinking, growing, developing

….sometimes I get the feeling that all this emphasis on assessment and accountability is more about a lack of confidence, a lack of faith, in teachers than it is about what students have learned

….with all the different doors students walk through, with all the various types and amount of baggage they carry, with all the many confusing and often conflicting tongues parents, professionals, administrators, professional critics, legislators, bureaucrats, Board and Regents members, and others speak, is it fair to evaluate a teacher by a single set of numbers. It’s certainly easier, but is it fair? Is it meaningful?

….when students sense that the teacher is in the “people business” instead of the “information business”, that the teacher is in it for them and not for him- or herslef, that the teacher cares about them as people–is not just with their academic performance–they are more likely to see the teacher as a role model.

….the relationship between the teacher and student is critical to opening both the mind and the heart. Students seldom learn from a teacher they fear, don’t respect, don’t like or can’t make a connection. Students seldom learn from teachers who don’t respect them, don’t like them, dominate them. It’s no different in the relationship between teachers on one hand and all those others in society on the other.

….students who don’t rise to our expectations are not bad students or bad persons and we shouldn’t be disappointed or disgruntled merely because they have weaknesses and deficiencies. Is it any different with teachers?

….if you assume that each student is capable, valuable, and has potential, you will struggle to find ways to see to fulfill that prophecy; if we believe each student is able to learn and is worthy of respect, we will find ways–we will fight to find ways–to help them to succeed. Should we be any different with teachers?

Make it a good day.

–Louis–

It’s a dreary day. It’s hard to think of the sunning shining in the sky above the overcast of thick, swirling, black, threatening clouds. The rain is falling in torrents. The wind is up. The thunder is thundering. And the lightening is flashing. My disc-less neck is really aching because of the low atmospheric pressure. I’m more than a bit damp and chilly from being caught in one of today’s incessant downpours without an umbrella. I’m trapped in this cold office because all my unbrellas are a block away at the home. My car, my toy, is dead in the water because I left the lights on. My shoes are soggy and my toes are turning blue. And, I’m lonely for the comfort of my angelic wife. All of this has put me into a strange, wondering “you know…” mood.

You know:

….how many of us have ever been asked to recite the Gettysburg Address or Hamlet’s soliloquoy in a job interview.

….how many of us have ever used one of those long, unpronouncable, exotic, words–even in crosswords puzzles, we had to memorize for spelling bees.

….it’s important for teachers to believe that every student is interesting and worth getting to know.

….it’s important that teachers see every student as a valuable person, someone from whom he or she can learn.

….teaching is hard work that, contrary to both popular and academic belief, not everyone can do since it involves more than just talking.

….when a teacher has taken time to get to know a student beyond an I.D. number and a name, and builds a relationship, it’s easier to understand the student, appreciate the student’s problems, and work with that student.

….I wish we would talk more about and celebrate students’ strengths and “can do’s” rather than go around complaining about or making fun of their weaknesses and “can’ts.”

….I wish we would be as relentless an advocate for the needs of each students as we are for our own.

….listening to a student is so much more than merely hearing. It so much more complex than merely using our ears. It’s paying attention, staying alert and focused, staying open to alternatives, being open-minded, expecting that a student has something valuabe to say, etc.

….when a teacher is searching and struggling with how to make things work for each student, he or she cares.

….it’s important to have a positive expectation for each student and truly believe in each student and making it work for the student.

….each student is a treasure and deserves to be valued and respected for who he or she is, not merely for what he or she can or cannot do, not for the grade or score he or she makes.

….the more I teach, the more I realize the impact of attitude on both teaching and learning. It is more important that information, appearance, talent or skill.

….we can make teachers do, but how can we make them care?

….we can make students do, but how can we make them care?

….students watch our actions. A sympathetic pat on the back, an excited gleam, a kind word, an annoyed roll of our eyes, a bored sigh, a hint of frustration are etched into their hearts and minds

….varying teaching stlyes doesn’t mean to do less, just to do it differently. It’s not asking for a free ride, a gift, a handout, watering down, a special privilege. It merely means working hard to meet an individual’s needs.

….teachers get discouraged and tired. They hear so many negatives about education. They usually get most of the blame. They usually get contacted only when there’s a problem. Maybe we should take that extra effort to say, “You’re doing a great job” when they deserve it. Teachers need support and encouragement that just like anyone else.

….it’s a bit unrealistic, a bit silly, to expect students to be able to properly manage their time, be excited about their studies, be able to write Hemmingwayesque sentneces, to think logically with the skill of Aristotle, to be completely organized with the skill of an efficiency expert, to be disciplined, comitted and dedicated, to know how to study, to know how to….

….a teacher has to be a lover of people with a love that grows stronger with each new experience.

….teaching is hard work, but, oh, seeing a person motivated for the very first time, watching a student start turning his/her life around and putting the broken pieces together is worth it!

….the rewards of touching a student touches the heart in a special way and remind me that quitting is not an option, for there are lives at stake each day

….my garden is going to be fresh and beautiful tomorrow after this thirst-quenching rain. So, maybe it’s not such a yukky day.

Make it a good day.

–Louis–