I think I had mentioned this before but the more time I spend in the classroom the more I see the nuances of teaching that make or break a lesson, teacher, or classroom. There are also many misconceptions about what an ideal model of a classroom or teacher is.
For example, I know a teacher who is seen as a good teacher but I question the actual learning taking place. Sure, she has what seems to be control over her classroom but the students learning is in question. Additionally, I think classroom management is more than just "controlling your students" but rather, getting students to buy into the idea of schooling and do the right things because they want to. I believe Eisenhower said "leadership is getting others to do what you want them to because they want to." Some teacher just use scare tactics and verbal acrobatics to criticize students leaving them no where to go besides being outwardly quiet yet brewing inside with dislike for the teacher and the system of learning. I think there is a strong presence for wit from the teacher in order to build rapport, at least with older students, but it has to be carefully done. It must be an interaction of joshing each other and not placing oneself over another. Done carefully, students come to respect and appreciate the wit building relationships.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Fly like a butterfly and sting like a bee
"Fly like a butterfly and sting like a bee"
These are the words of the charismatic Muhammad Ali and it completely applies to teaching. Every time you are in a classroom there are 1,001 mental decisions you are making every second and sometimes you don't even know you are making them. You need to manage time, personalities, instruction, support, administrative duties (attendance and the like), and everything else that students bring into the classroom. The ability to teach a classroom is really a craft that is constantly being challenged and refined through reflection.
In such reflection, I have noticed, at least for classroom management, there are times when you need ignore disruptions and moments when you need to poignantly address an issue; in other words sting like a bee. I believe Johnathon Kozol says something to the idea of "leave the battles you are to loose alone and focus on the small battles that matter and that you can win." I will try to find the exact quote but for the purpose of this post, I think he succintly explains and appreciates the necessity to be judicious with your efforts as a teacher. I think that is where much of the beauty in teaching lies: the small nuances that are difficult to articulate but are almost just better felt.
These are the words of the charismatic Muhammad Ali and it completely applies to teaching. Every time you are in a classroom there are 1,001 mental decisions you are making every second and sometimes you don't even know you are making them. You need to manage time, personalities, instruction, support, administrative duties (attendance and the like), and everything else that students bring into the classroom. The ability to teach a classroom is really a craft that is constantly being challenged and refined through reflection.
In such reflection, I have noticed, at least for classroom management, there are times when you need ignore disruptions and moments when you need to poignantly address an issue; in other words sting like a bee. I believe Johnathon Kozol says something to the idea of "leave the battles you are to loose alone and focus on the small battles that matter and that you can win." I will try to find the exact quote but for the purpose of this post, I think he succintly explains and appreciates the necessity to be judicious with your efforts as a teacher. I think that is where much of the beauty in teaching lies: the small nuances that are difficult to articulate but are almost just better felt.
Monday, January 26, 2009
I Love Edgar Ruiz - Part 2
Part 2: What I bring to Edgar
Being a sunny Friday, I expected the students to be a little louder than usual. We had just returned from an exciting assembly about tobacco use, which the students enjoyed. There wasn’t much time left till the end of the day and everything had gone well. As I take place at the back of the classroom to observe the classroom, I noticed Edgar beginning to drift. I immediately left my post and new I had to redirect Edgar before things got out of control. I wanted to save the day and have us make it through positively.
I knelled over and asked Edgar if everything was fine. He replied, “yes” as he laughed and was focused on distracting two other students. I pulled a chair and tried to remind him of our lists and how he needed to “win the match.” I opened the book and ask him if he wanted to win. He quickly got a little more serious and said he wanted to. He kept going back and forth from the disruptive student to a quiet scare child. At this point, I wasn’t so concerned with him following the lesson but being able to sustain his involvement in the classroom.
Not knowing exactly what to do, I relied on his interests and began to write him questions about wrestling. He was resisting saying he was thirsty for water. I ignored his request and kept asking him about wrestling. He eventually began to respond to my questions and was now focused on our written conversation. At this point, I acknowledge his need and made a deal with him-make it till 2:00PM and we will go to the drinking fountain. He agreed and we pressed on.
Edgar began to write out all the title matches, the different weight classes, and each wrestler’s nickname. He was busy at work and for a moment he returned to the math lesson on the board and I helped him contribute an answer. We then quickly got back to our writing and he had me guess who I thought would win. We reached a comfortable stride, which meant a lot for me.
2:00PM eventually came around and as I promised, we walked to the drinking fountain on the third floor. I felt he needed and earned five minutes and therefore we took a small walk to the stairs down and back up again. But, before returning to the classroom, I suggested going to the third floor to tell an administrator about his progress. “You are winning the match Edgar! You are doing well but remember you will have to defend your title on Monday.” I told him. “You are right. And the day after that, and the day after that.” We finally reached the administrator but she was busy, instead he shared his success with two teachers. One of them began to ask him about his benchmark scores. The creative genius he is, Edgar replied with “we [Literacy] don’t get along.”
We then left and made it back to the classroom. Everyone was working on an assignment and Victor quietly transitioned back in the classroom. Things continued well until the last 15 minutes as the class was preparing to leave. I had to redirect his attention but nonetheless, Victor made it through holding the title belt in the air as a champion. And I left feeling an incredible love for my student.
I will always love and remember Edgar Ruiz.
Being a sunny Friday, I expected the students to be a little louder than usual. We had just returned from an exciting assembly about tobacco use, which the students enjoyed. There wasn’t much time left till the end of the day and everything had gone well. As I take place at the back of the classroom to observe the classroom, I noticed Edgar beginning to drift. I immediately left my post and new I had to redirect Edgar before things got out of control. I wanted to save the day and have us make it through positively.
I knelled over and asked Edgar if everything was fine. He replied, “yes” as he laughed and was focused on distracting two other students. I pulled a chair and tried to remind him of our lists and how he needed to “win the match.” I opened the book and ask him if he wanted to win. He quickly got a little more serious and said he wanted to. He kept going back and forth from the disruptive student to a quiet scare child. At this point, I wasn’t so concerned with him following the lesson but being able to sustain his involvement in the classroom.
Not knowing exactly what to do, I relied on his interests and began to write him questions about wrestling. He was resisting saying he was thirsty for water. I ignored his request and kept asking him about wrestling. He eventually began to respond to my questions and was now focused on our written conversation. At this point, I acknowledge his need and made a deal with him-make it till 2:00PM and we will go to the drinking fountain. He agreed and we pressed on.
Edgar began to write out all the title matches, the different weight classes, and each wrestler’s nickname. He was busy at work and for a moment he returned to the math lesson on the board and I helped him contribute an answer. We then quickly got back to our writing and he had me guess who I thought would win. We reached a comfortable stride, which meant a lot for me.
2:00PM eventually came around and as I promised, we walked to the drinking fountain on the third floor. I felt he needed and earned five minutes and therefore we took a small walk to the stairs down and back up again. But, before returning to the classroom, I suggested going to the third floor to tell an administrator about his progress. “You are winning the match Edgar! You are doing well but remember you will have to defend your title on Monday.” I told him. “You are right. And the day after that, and the day after that.” We finally reached the administrator but she was busy, instead he shared his success with two teachers. One of them began to ask him about his benchmark scores. The creative genius he is, Edgar replied with “we [Literacy] don’t get along.”
We then left and made it back to the classroom. Everyone was working on an assignment and Victor quietly transitioned back in the classroom. Things continued well until the last 15 minutes as the class was preparing to leave. I had to redirect his attention but nonetheless, Victor made it through holding the title belt in the air as a champion. And I left feeling an incredible love for my student.
I will always love and remember Edgar Ruiz.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
I Love Edgar Ruiz - Part 1
Part 1: What Edgar brings to me
Like any other morning, I arrived early and sat down on my usual bench. I usually sit and read for two reasons: to wait for the start of school and to show kids teachers read. During this time various students happily interrupt me and I greet them. I enjoy asking them how they are doing and tell them to have a great day. It is a small but precious treasure to my day.
Friday morning started as usual. I arrived early and began reading. Yet, strangely, things seemed quiet and I was racing through my pages. It wasn’t until Edgar finally arrived that my world of teaching continued its course of change and discovery.
Our discussion started as normal. “Hi. How are you?” He sat down next to me and we then, almost serendipitously, started talking about his presence in the classroom. “It’s hard Mr. Najarro. I want to win the match!” (Edgar is a wrestling fan and I use winning a match as an allegory to behaving well). I ask if he has gone to the nurse’s office yet. “No, I can’t. I’m going to the doctor’s later and they told me not to take medication today because they are giving me a new prescription.” “Oh, ok,” I thought to myself. At that moment, something different and special happened.
Instead of thinking about what a difficult day Friday will be with Edgar not taking his medication, my mind, or more appropriately, my emotions, went to how much I love Edgar. He is the student that tells others to be quiet when I am teaching. He is the one student that tells others they need to be quiet and respect me. Essentially, “he has my back.” He quiets the class for me and dislikes anyone disrespecting my lessons. I don’t’ know what the catalyst was but instead of worrying, I quickly, and without thought or self-control, leaned over to Edgar and put one hand on his shoulder and my other hand on his heart. I put my head down and quietly told him: “Edgar. I will also love you. You are very special. You have a very kind and warm heart you just have to show that heart to us. Regardless of what you do, I will always love you. Just remember to show your heart to others.”
There was a moment of silence that last fives seconds but was deeper than time would allow explain.
A feeling of “we are going to achieve” was exchanged. The idea of team was constructed. The conversation was finished and the norm continued.
The conversation lingered but felt more than informed.
We eventually found ourselves in the classroom but I noticed Edgar’s presence: cold and aloof. Remembering from Literacy class, I wrote instead of asked: “What’s wrong.” A full page of conversation was compiled as Edgar explained how he felt disconnected from the class community and the teacher. He admitted to his wrongs, which I praised, and we made a list of solutions. The test came later in the day when he tends to begin to unravel.
Like any other morning, I arrived early and sat down on my usual bench. I usually sit and read for two reasons: to wait for the start of school and to show kids teachers read. During this time various students happily interrupt me and I greet them. I enjoy asking them how they are doing and tell them to have a great day. It is a small but precious treasure to my day.
Friday morning started as usual. I arrived early and began reading. Yet, strangely, things seemed quiet and I was racing through my pages. It wasn’t until Edgar finally arrived that my world of teaching continued its course of change and discovery.
Our discussion started as normal. “Hi. How are you?” He sat down next to me and we then, almost serendipitously, started talking about his presence in the classroom. “It’s hard Mr. Najarro. I want to win the match!” (Edgar is a wrestling fan and I use winning a match as an allegory to behaving well). I ask if he has gone to the nurse’s office yet. “No, I can’t. I’m going to the doctor’s later and they told me not to take medication today because they are giving me a new prescription.” “Oh, ok,” I thought to myself. At that moment, something different and special happened.
Instead of thinking about what a difficult day Friday will be with Edgar not taking his medication, my mind, or more appropriately, my emotions, went to how much I love Edgar. He is the student that tells others to be quiet when I am teaching. He is the one student that tells others they need to be quiet and respect me. Essentially, “he has my back.” He quiets the class for me and dislikes anyone disrespecting my lessons. I don’t’ know what the catalyst was but instead of worrying, I quickly, and without thought or self-control, leaned over to Edgar and put one hand on his shoulder and my other hand on his heart. I put my head down and quietly told him: “Edgar. I will also love you. You are very special. You have a very kind and warm heart you just have to show that heart to us. Regardless of what you do, I will always love you. Just remember to show your heart to others.”
There was a moment of silence that last fives seconds but was deeper than time would allow explain.
A feeling of “we are going to achieve” was exchanged. The idea of team was constructed. The conversation was finished and the norm continued.
The conversation lingered but felt more than informed.
We eventually found ourselves in the classroom but I noticed Edgar’s presence: cold and aloof. Remembering from Literacy class, I wrote instead of asked: “What’s wrong.” A full page of conversation was compiled as Edgar explained how he felt disconnected from the class community and the teacher. He admitted to his wrongs, which I praised, and we made a list of solutions. The test came later in the day when he tends to begin to unravel.
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