Responding with Humanity

“It’s not the end of the world if they’re doing something a little different” (Hochkeppel).

At the time that I started writing this post out, I was preparing for a State competition with the director/teacher/role model that I intended to highlight. That wasn’t really a necessary thought to share, but I found it funny. Throughout the school, he is widely recognizable as the sometimes eccentric member of the fine arts wing. Although his methods can be unorthodox, he has managed to capture the hearts of students of past, present, and even future.

I have been through a good amount of classes and productions with him at this point in time. Regardless of the ever-changing class and rehearsal format, one aspect of my interactions with Mr. Hochkeppel have remained constant; his philosophy towards teaching. Central in his pedagogy is the idea that students should have as much freedom as possible. The man affectionately known as H, believes very strongly that when students are given the chance to succeed, they will.

Over the course of a couple weeks, I held interviews with H in order to paint a decent picture of how he thinks. The quotes Mr. Hochkeppel shared with me in our interviews were pretty indicative of the way he runs class. I hope that by the end of this article it is clear why he is so impactful and so widely beloved.

“All these kids up here, they have the ability and they have the potential. Now all they need is to be given the opportunity" (Hochkeppel).

At my high school, this quote is synonymous with H. It can be found all over our drama department as well as a giant sign in the Black Box (the theater classroom). This mantra is very much one he lives and teaches by.

Outside of actually directing, students run every aspect of the theater department. We design and build the set, advertise the show, make the costumes, run the lights and sound, choreograph, and search for props (along with any left out aspects of theater). H has expectations and we know we have to meet them. There is no need for him to hold our hand throughout the journey. Not only does it harness students’ need for independence, it builds a mutual trust between the two parties. Mr. Hochkeppel professes his trust of us and backs it up with giving us space to try new things. In turn, our trust in him grows because it is ingrained in us that he is on our side. He believes “the best way to make high quality work when you have a band of… people is give them as much freedom as possible” (Hochkeppel). If H were to run the department in an authoritarian manner instead of one built on a symbiotic relationship, dissension would fester. Our shows would not nearly be as successful, his classes would not retain a lot of the curriculum taught to them, and frankly fewer students would want to join.

Effective teaching is all about establishing an environment similar to this. It is necessary for students to have freedom to make choices and mistakes on their own and to experience the consequences of each.

“Unfortunately, I think we graduate people who are not ready to take on the world… because we’ve kept them, artificially, from the world” (Hochkeppel).

Assignments that students are forced to complete often have no authenticity behind them. Most of the time, they would have very little value outside the walls of the school building. Instead of doling out worksheets “let’s create as real a world as we can imagine” (Hochkeppel) for students. “School doesn’t work for some great percentage of people, if working means you come out… a lot smarter and ready to take on the world” (Hochkeppel) and a lot of that stems from a lack of real world application. For kids, it’s not unusual to be faced with daily textbook readings and passionless reading response questions. The workplace just assigns adults projects that need to get done. If school is supposed to mirror future occupational labor, then the framework of assignments needs to shift.

One method for educators to potentially assuage this issue is to consider the real purpose of assigned work. Work students are completing should not be used as a distraction tool. If something is not directly evolving a student’s comprehension it needs to be axed. Even “behavior problems… [are] because you have intelligent people who are noticing they’re being asked to do something senseless” (Hochkeppel). A simple fix would be to get the ‘senseless’ out of school. Busy work, not only annihilates any positive rapport that’s been built; it creates a blurry image of what learning actually looks like. The latter is a potentially more serious issue.

“I don’t believe in tests beyond doing. The paper can fool you. You can get all A’s and not know how to do anything” (Hochkeppel).

Since my freshman year, I’ve had three classes with Mr. Hochkeppel as the teacher; Technical Theater, Public Speaking, and Creative Writing. All of them were different in subject matter, but were run with the same goal in mind: “getting students to ‘do’” (Hochkeppel). At this point, it is a given that paper and pencil tests do not always fully evaluate a student’s knowledge. Students may understand the material, but may have extremely bad test-taking anxiety. Due to the nature of assessments like these, some may still show signs of comprehension despite not actually knowing much about the topic.

When I asked H about his education background, he brought up how he fared in school. While he excelled at completing quizzes, he felt under-prepared heading into the professional world. H noted that “in real life, there aren’t a bunch of tests you have to pass. Nobody cares about what you can do on paper” (Hochkeppel). He is absolutely right too. If a surgeon scores well on every test they take in medical school, but then does not know how to safely complete a surgery, there will be very large ramifications. Mr. Hochkeppel is very outspoken that “rather than just giving students some Latin terms to teach persuasion… we should [have] students… persuade” (Hochkeppel). The best way to learn is to do. Regurgitating phrases onto a worksheet doesn’t hit the curriculum home a majority of the time. Just like in my history class [insert shameless plug for my blog post last week], without an opportunity to take off the “thinking cap” and put on the “doing cap,” information won’t stick as often.

Other schools in our area have Technical Theater classes, but very few get as much accomplished as Mr. Hochkeppel’s do. Instead of wasting time on going over how one might build a set, his students just jump right in. Our learning mostly occurred through experience. If we built a faulty set piece, we inspected it and, with H’s help, found ways to ensure it wouldn’t happen again. The importance of “as early as possible… get[ting] kids judging: was this a good move or a bad move?” (Hochkeppel) is high because it grows their independence. It allows students to learn from their own mistakes, in real time, and figure out how best to solve issues proactively. In Public Speaking, in the first semester of my sophomore year, we didn’t discuss the theory of good public speaking. The class jumped right in and started performing, later coming together for constructive criticism. Currently, I’m in his Creative Writing class. On the first day of class, we already had an assignment. He explained that had we come together to converse about how to write creatively (instead of actually writing), nothing would ever get completed. Art is too subjective for there to be one, correct formula to writing. Not to mention, the word ‘formula’ and ‘writing’ shouldn’t ever be near each other in a sentence. Writing has a mind of its own and can take whatever form the author chooses. H understands his “version of what you gotta know is silly” (Hochkeppel) to everyone except for him. The way he writes is completely valid, but it may not make sense for me to adopt all of his personal guidelines. To me, that idea is crucial to a classroom’s success.

It is treasonous to the subject of English to pretend writing only fits one mold. Writing is about expressing what writers need to express. Educators that teach to check off boxes rather than let ideas flow free are leading their students to become bland and inexpressive. Mr. Hochkeppel agrees with that sentiment. He even goes as far as saying the current public education system is destined to follow that path more than often.

“Do the citizens belong to the state? I kind of think that’s the implication of the [school structure]” (Hochkeppel).

Individuality is often suppressed by the public education system. It is very true that “some go through school damaged by the continued assault on personal value” (Hochkeppel). In most of my English classes, when we analyze the books we read, our teacher stands at the front of the room and essentially tells us how we should interpret it. A couple of my peers have been shot down, in front of the rest of the class, because they had an alternative interpretation. I strongly agreed with H when he said, “I don’t think there should be some big apparatus telling students what the real story is” (Hochkeppel). That is transferrable to any subject. There are multiple sides to history. There are conflicting theories in science. There are abundant ways students can experience a book. “If we [break down] all the facts in the average SOL… you could say ‘that’s a decent fact to know’ but it’s not like you need to know that… for a good life” (Hochkeppel) and student rapport diminishes when teachers value trivia over true comprehension. There’s a stark difference between teaching disjointed facts and actually ingraining information in a student’s brain.

One of the biggest aspects of my Creative Writing class is analyzing each other’s work, for the purpose of understanding clear author’s purpose. Just because classmates differ in opinions doesn’t mean they need to come to a consensus. Disagreements are a very real part of life. Teachers should “trust people not to be good, but… trust people to look out for their own interests and to do what they see is right” (Hochkeppel). Who are teachers to tell us how we see the world is incorrect?

Mentally make a list of all the great thinkers of our world’s time. Albert Einstein. Sigmund Freud. Thomas Edison. Galileo. Some might argue we no longer have people like them in America. H vociferously disagreed:

“We look at [great thinkers] and say, ‘Wow why don’t we have smart people like [them] anymore?’ The fact is, we do. We have just as smart people… but we have funneled them through a system… which takes away… autonomy and… personal judgement” (Hochkeppel).

Rather than allowing students to find themselves, the current structure attempts to confine them to one way of thinking. The goal of school is to help students grow into fully independent adults. “We train kids to be afraid to do anything without an adult’s say so” (Hochkeppel) and when that is instilled in us, we are destined to fail in the outside world. If when we’re younger, we are not allowed to speak our minds or form our own opinions, we never will. That would be borderline apocalyptic for the future.

“Kids are made to feel like crap for not being good enough for these tests. Even though those tests aren’t an objective yard stick to measure value, we treat them that way” (Hochkeppel).

Students respond to humanity, more so than we do to hard data. On our first day of grade school, numbers become attached to us. Grades, lunch numbers, student IDs, class numbers – every aspect of our very existence is quantified. All the time, I start off the school year taking a ‘how do you learn’ quiz. Very few, if any, of my teachers follow through and adjust to the way I learn. We follow the same formulaic agenda:

• Guided Notes
• Worksheet
• Discuss as a class
• Test

It doesn’t matter if you’re an auditory learner, a visual learner, a kinesthetic learner, or a completely different learner; you’re doing the same thing as everyone else.

The opposite is also very much true. I’ve had teachers in the past who are overly reliant on test scores (specifically reading levels) and use them to divide classes into ‘smart’ kids and ‘slow’ kids. “It’s a bit of a mania when the end result is not better teaching, but a kind of non responsive way of thinking,” (Hochkeppel) H pointed out, when I asked about his thoughts on the sudden push for the “huge push nationally… for… data” (Hochkeppel). At this point it should be very clear that no two students think, work, or act the same, yet we get assessed in a one-size-fits-all fashion. 

Most times it seems that the system isn’t “meant to help every kid achieve their dream but rather as a sorting mechanism” (Hochkeppel). Data can certainly be a useful tool, but when it’s turned into the deciding factor of a child’s intelligence, it becomes detrimental to school in general. Over my eleven years in the American public school system so far, I’ve been labeled the ‘smart’ kid and the ‘slow’ kid. Both labels hurt me, personally. When I’m painted as belonging in the ‘smart’ group, I’m expected to know every answer when called on. If I don’t, I get a disapproving look from the teacher and maybe a discussion after class. When I’m described as one of the ‘slow’ kids, I’m told I need to put forth more effort – regardless of the work ethic I show. Mr. Hochkeppel believes “those numbers exist not to help the students to learn, but to help the powers that be, pick students and divide them [into who’s] valuable and… not” (Hochkeppel). Granted, I may not have the experience of graduate school or teaching a class of students, but I certainly have been led to believe that too. It’s very clear which students are teachers favorites and which ones aren’t when data becomes a focal point of the class.

Before I finish up, I'd like to quickly congratulate our drama department (run by Mr. Hochkeppel) on winning the state championship in Virginia's one act competition! It was a great experience and it is certainly deserving after all the work our cast and crew did. There is zero chance we could have accomplished this without H at the helm. He has been a role model of mine for the past two years and I'm honored to have the privilege of working with and learning from him for two more upcoming years.

Thank you so much for reading this week’s edition of my blog! I would love to hear any thoughts (in agreement or opposition), any suggestions you have, or any questions you may have. I will continue to update this on Fridays as the year progresses. You can follow me on Twitter @TheSammer88 for live updates from me. The hashtag #BowTieBoys has been compiling my thoughts and my partners’ thoughts, so be sure to check that out if you want to hear more from us.

“You can’t keep… people down if they’re free, but you can certainly affect them greatly by taking twelve years of their life and making them subservient, obedient, and non free thinkers” (Hochkeppel).

BIBLIOGRAPHY:

Hochkeppel, Glen. "Interview with H: Part One." Personal interview. 18 Jan. 2017.

Hochkeppel, Glen. "Interview with H: Part Two." Personal interview. 8 Mar. 2017.

Employing Controlled Chaos

While brainstorming for last week’s “What is Science?” blog post, I compiled a list of engaging lessons I’ve taken part in. The one I’ve chosen to highlight this week is one of, if not, the greatest example of controlled classroom chaos I have ever experienced. This time it wasn’t a science classroom where this took place, it was in sixth grade history. It may seem like a little bit of a stretch to reach that far back, but I still remember every detail and I don’t think that memory will fade any time soon.

Just like every standout teacher I’ve had, my history teacher made a lasting impact on Day One. Regardless of his initial success, the history lessons I was subjected to improved as the year continued. The time frame we were in during this specific lesson was the French and Indian war. Even though we were interested in every class, some of the information seemed to be falling on deaf ears. For a bunch of eleven and twelve year olds, it was hard to picture why guerilla warfare worked so well or the inefficiency of weapons. After all, we lived (and obviously still live) in the twenty-first century. Outside of using a time machine, it was going to be impossible to transport us into the French and Indian War… our teacher clearly felt otherwise.

Seeing that we were having trouble visualizing the war, my teacher set up a scenario for us to act out. Now, that might not sound exciting at first glance. It was obviously more participation-driven than guided notes per say, but an “act out” wouldn’t raise too many eyebrows. My history teacher decided to take it to a whole new level, a level that I have sadly not revisited since.

 As soon as he corralled our attention, my teacher began explaining his idea. We were going to fully recreate the battle of Fort Duquesne in class. We weren’t just going to talk about the war in funny accents; we were going to have a full-on battle in class. For those of you who are a little bit rusty, let me break down some elements of the battle that the activity highlighted:

The British and American Side:

·         Fought in a very structured, open battlefield style

·         Were very loud and telegraphed their actions/movements

·         Underestimated the opposition’s numbers

·         Utilized inefficient 1700s weapons

The French and Native American Side:

·         Used guerilla warfare tactics (concealed themselves, reorganized the fort)

·         Remained almost silent, not giving away any information

·         Had higher numbers than expected

·         Also used inefficient 1700s firearms

This was all unknown to us at the time, but we were about to learn everything firsthand. We were split into two large groups by my teacher. Those of us who were on the British/American team were escorted out into the nearby locker bay so we could strategize. Once we were far enough away from his classroom, my teacher began to brief us on the information we needed to know to play our roles correctly. Because we were the classic European army, we needed to be organized in a rigid formation before entering the battlefield [classroom]. In order to intimidate the French/Native American team, we were told to loudly stomp our feet with every step we took down the hallway. My teacher reassured us that it would be easy because the other group was in an enclosed space. Clearly, we would be able to slowly pick them out, one by one. He concluded by asking that we get in our formation by the time he returned from the officer’s quarters [classroom].

Calmly, but quickly, us snobbish redcoats grouped ourselves into two lines that extended a quarter of the way down the lockers. Just in time, my teacher walked back to our turf with a stack of papers in his hand. I internally groaned because I thought we were going to have to fill out a worksheet in conjunction with the activity. Much to my surprise, he started crumpling up the papers and giving a handful to each student. This was to be our ammunition. If we saw a rival soldier, we were supposed to hit them with a bullet [paper ball]. If we were hit with a bullet [paper ball], no matter who it was from, we were supposed to die [drop to the floor, playing dead]. Most importantly, our group was never allowed to break our formation. That would dishonor the countries we were fighting for and nullify any potential victory we obtained. My teacher jogged back to his classroom and gave us the signal to begin our march.

Stomp. Stomp. Stomp. Stomp. I’m confident the amount of noise we were creating was bewildering students of other classes, but it didn’t matter to us. The pride of Britain was all we cared about right now and the way we’d show it was by annihilating our fellow classmates. Our squad reached the door, and one of our two line leaders slowly opened it up. The room was uncharacteristically dark. If that didn’t faze us, the upheaval of all the desks did. Desks and chairs were flipped, leaned, and stacked to create barricades for our opponents. While we were processing the new aspects of the war we didn’t have prior knowledge of, bullets [paper] started flying. Our first six warriors dropped before they could even toss their paper. Even though we couldn’t see many soldiers, we started almost aimlessly sending our bullets across the room. I saw an enemy insurgent sitting in the corner of the room and I knew what I had to do. With haste, I lobbed my biggest paper ball in her direction. Much to my chagrin, it went nowhere near her and I suffered a mortal gunshot wound to the ankle before I could try again. Soon, our entire legion of students was relegated to lying on the floor. The lights came on and we were disappointed to see very few of the French and Indians had been affected by our onslaught. My teacher flipped on the lights and requested we all help clean up the mess we had so successfully created.

Before scooping up the scraps of paper we’d tossed all around the room, I took in the view. Our former classroom was in utter disarray. Not one desk was untouched, papers were strewn everywhere, and students were picking themselves up off the linoleum ground that they’d previously been laying on. Many teachers would shudder at the amount of damage we had done, but mine just sat back and smiled.

When the room had become relatively clean, we started to break down the events that we just experienced. Everything that occurred in our little battle had a purpose. The disarray was similar to the way the French decided to defend their fort. Our side faced so many more casualties than our opposition did. That was very reminiscent of the death ratio between Britain and France in the battle of Fort Duquesne. Paper doesn’t fly very well and neither did the bullets from the 18^th Century muskets. My team wasn’t given the information needed to win, just like how Britain’s Fort Duquesne was overconfident and incompetent. It was clear how much thought my history teacher had put into this activity. Too often, I feel like my teachers put certain aspects of a project up to chance and they end up ruing that decision as things fall apart.

Student excitement was billowing after going through our reenactment. Although we weren’t supposed to let his later students in on it, each one of us found friends in other classes to rattle off a recollection of events to.  Sitting at the lunch table, I couldn’t help myself and I just started spilling out information to kids with different teachers. After explaining the whole scenario, there was a little bit of a silence at our table. Confused, I thought maybe they wanted to tell me what they did in class, so I asked them. Our grade had two really popular history teachers; my teacher and one down the hall. My peers told me that the other popular teacher just let them research and fill out a March Madness bracket for their classwork. Even as a sixth grader, I was bewildered with the decision making of their teacher. Intentionally allowing your students to essentially accomplish nothing seems like a poor conclusion to come to. He probably wanted to create positive student rapport and I guess it was technically succeeding. Meanwhile, my history teacher was able to build a good relationship with his students, while still churning out good results. Tests are obviously not the only way to show a student’s comprehension, but not one of my classmates got a grade lower than an A on the French and Indian War test.

It’s probably not hard to imagine the amount of excitement this generated for his class. I mean, my teacher hosted a full-on mock battle in his classroom. How many students can say they’ve experienced something even remotely similar to that? The amount of thought my teacher put into this activity was commendable. The unordinary disruption to daily class life was readily welcomed by the student body. The activity helped us fully understand the context of the battle of Fort Duquesne. The lesson clearly was successful too, because to this day I still remember most of the battle’s key information.

As always, the foundation of what this instructional period entailed is easily transferable to the subject of English. For example, let’s say a class is having trouble comprehending the context of a novel. Take a section of the book and create a scenario for students to act out. Once we’ve lived it, it’s much easier for us to wrap our heads around. However, incorporating a dramatization isn’t the important takeaway here. The fluidity that my history teacher brought to the class was the real key factor.

Making it even easier on my history teacher, we each got our own experience out of our dramatization. So he didn’t need to tailor the activity for any particular students. The activity was differentiated without any extra effort on his part. He let laid out the ground rules and let the reigns go, freeing us to personalize our time-traveling adventure. My teacher knew (and knows) full well that “good teaching doesn’t take place by teaching a list of objectives, but by intentionally planning ways for students to create their own learning” (Students at the Center, 2017). Instead of reading off a PowerPoint word for word, he decided to design a broad activity and have us run wild. In retrospect, this was obviously the right idea. If I were to meet up with former classmates from his class, we would probably all tell the story a different way. The information we learned however, stuck with us and would remain the same.

To students monotony is just another part of their daily school routine. Teachers should not be afraid to purposefully upset the established order for the benefit of their students. Variations in a class’ agenda will get us to perk up immediately. A little unorthodox can be good for students. When educators step out of their comfort zone and put themselves out there with an activity, students are encouraged to follow suit. Getting students fully invested and moving is important. Switching tables and moving around the room “gallery-walk style” are not good enough. Just like integrating technology for the sake of integrating tech is pointless, having kids walk around the room aimlessly defeats the purpose of having students move around. Figuring out reasons for everything students are doing may take a decent amount of time to do, but at the end of the day, if activities like this help students, an attempt should be made. From my experience, the attempts can be just as useful as the tried and true. Teachers can model a healthy learning process with their attempts throughout the year. Students and teachers will be learning alongside each other all year, allowing for a completely even playing field. When students teach teachers even a tiny detail, it’s beneficial. Exposing that weakness and allowing room to grow shows students that teachers are one of them. It should not come as a surprise that when my history teacher employed these tactics, his positive student rapport crashed through the roof.

The last big part of this lesson that I’d like to touch on involves the culture my teacher created in our class. With the aforementioned class period, my history teacher initiated a feeling among the students that we had to go all in. Imagine if students just went through the motions during the Fort Duquesne reenactment. The information would have gotten lost in the shuffle. Also, creating activities that require one hundred percent of a student’s attention is important. Rather than outright banning student cell phone use, teachers would be better suited in using engaging lessons to mitigate class disruptions. At the 2016 NCTE Conference, Dr. Sara Kajder said, “Rather than complaining about students playing Angry Birds, we should be asking ourselves why they are.” Students turn to other sources of engagement if classes are disengaging. “New media literacies… demand a highly participatory culture” (Because Digital Writing Matters, 2010), therefore we can’t expect a simple worksheet and video to grasp students’ attention. By utilizing activities that excite students, through controlled chaos and “demand[ing] a highly participatory culture” (Because Digital Writing Matters, 2010), through hands-on activities, teachers will be able to ensure that their students are comprehending the material while concurrently building rapport.

Thank you so much for reading this week’s edition of my blog! I would love to hear any thoughts (in agreement or opposition), any suggestions you have, or any questions you may have. I will continue to update this on Fridays as the year progresses. You can follow me on Twitter @TheSammer88 for live updates from me. The hashtag #BowTieBoys has been compiling my thoughts and my partners’ thoughts, so be sure to check that out if you want to hear more from us.

BIBLIOGRAPHY:

DeVoss, DaÌnielle Nicole., Elyse Eidman-Aadahl, and Troy Hicks. Because Digital Writing Matters: Improving Student Writing in Online and Multimedia Environments. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 2010. Print.

Kajder, Dr. Sara. "Digital Literacy Can't Wait: Advocating for Access, Autonomy, and Authenticity." 2016 Annual NCTE Convention. Georgia, Atlanta. 19 Nov. 2016. Speech.

Kallick, Bena, and Allison Zmuda. Students at the Center: Personalized Learning with Habits of Mind. Alexandria, VA: ASCD, 2017. Print.

Hooking Students from Day One

Since last week I wrote about my current chemistry teacher, I think I’m going to stick with the science theme. On my last blog post, Fran McVeigh left a comment saying, “I believe that I would not have been so science-phobic if I had a teacher like yours.” That got me thinking. I was very science-phobic in middle school, and probably even in elementary school. When I got to high school, there was a clear shift in my scientific interest level.

All summer, leading up to the school year, I was adamant that I should avoid taking biology. My middle school had billed biology as a class students should only take if they were seriously considering a future in science. I did not (and do not) foresee a scientific career for me, so I did not think biology was the class for me. Not only that, being new to high school I thought I would be overwhelmed by the workload. I didn’t want to be swamped by my new workload and jeopardize my GPA before I even got my footing, so it took a lot of convincing for me to drop earth science.

Due to all of the negative feelings I’d harbored over the summer, let’s just say I was less than excited about entering the biology class room on the first day. My teacher had a large mountain to climb if he wanted to engage me. I had already made up my mind that biology was going to be a waste of time, so had I been in almost any other class, I would have been treated like a lost cause. Little did I know, my interest in science was about to be rejuvenated.

Milling about, waiting for class to start, students picked seats and chatted amongst themselves. It was all pretty standard. Then, the warning bell rang, soon followed by the late bell and biology began. Our teacher flipped the light switch and we started class in the dark.

A curious silence came over the class, as we waited for him to put his flipchart up on the Promethean board. His bright white slideshow cut through our palpable pause. Giant black letters that read, “What is Science?” appeared. I was not the only person who rolled their eyes at that. What a cliché way to start a class. My body slumped down upon itself in preparation for the imminent, inorganic conversation, destined to be dominated by teacher’s pets looking to start off on the right foot.

My teacher spoke up to initiate the conversation. Skipping the typical introductory bullet points, he called on the first kid he saw. Better yet, he called on them by name. “What is science?” He repeated the question that was plastered on the front screen. The student seemed a bit unnerved and stuttered through an answer involving “doing labs and papers and stuff.” Our teacher let their answer sink in and because of the lull; the class broke out into little sniggers. I remember my teacher’s response so clearly to this day, he said, “I don’t understand what is so funny. I asked ‘what is science’ and he gave his answer. His definition of science will not be the same as yours, yours, yours, or yours.” He went on to describe how that differentiated perspective is what made him fall in love with the subject.

He called for another student’s interpretation. They brought up different units they’ve had in past science classes. A different student’s hand shot in the air, wanting to share their idea. With each new student came an absolutely different view, our teacher was right. His interludes describing the year’s plan were interjected only when they made sense. Sometimes he was even forced to say we wouldn’t cover a certain topic or that he wasn’t fully capable of understanding that topic. He followed up quotes like that with apologies and promises to work with individuals wanting more information. This process continued until every kid in the room had an opportunity to explain what they thought of science.

His passion for biology showed through every time he spoke. Every answer gave our teacher’s voice more volume and clearer tint of curiosity. Leaving this class, I wasn’t magically transformed into somebody who loved science, but I came away knowing that our teacher was absolutely qualified and excited to teach the subject. Due to his love for biology, he was determined to transfer some of the energy he put forth over to his students.

Even though my anecdote was kind of short this week, there is a lot of good to pull from this opening class. My teacher was aware of the “critics [who] often accuse the American schools of crushing children’s creativity” (Setting the Record Straight, 2004). He knew what students say in the hallways. For example, the student I wrote about earlier said science was based around papers. In order to combat that mentality, my teacher integrated a huge class discussion to put the school year in motion. In addition, the excitement my teacher possessed for biology was very obvious and the expression of that excitement was necessary to grab our attentions. Bringing in every class member was another perfect decision. Keeping the introductory discussion to a minimum was another small, but student-focused choice. His transparency and advocatory attitude were fundamental elements (no pun intended J) in building positive student rapport in a short, ninety minute period.

Energy is a great way to hook in students. Teachers excited to be in class are not guaranteed to have a positive rapport with students, but without a tangible enthusiasm, students will lose interest immediately. Nothing is more off-putting than seeing an educator who doesn’t want to be there. Some students view school as a boring waste of time. Why perpetuate that stereotype by showing apathy towards class? In my opinion, being so openly energetic was a crucial step in my teacher’s victory over our attention spans.

As I said above, not one student was allowed to sit alone and refuse to participate. To be completely honest, no one wanted to either. Everyone was so engaged that even the shyest kids in the class were in a position where they were desperately wanted to share their “scientific definition.” Too often have I been in a class where a teacher starts to pick their favorites on the first day of school. Just like history shows us all the time, when an elite group forms, the commoners, with no special attention, become alienated. “In using… labels we create… barriers that do a disservice to teachers and students” (Because Digital Writing Matters, 2010) and those barriers are a toxic ingredient in creating a positive classroom ecology. By separating the class into cliques, teachers cut up the very fabric of their class before it even has a chance to be thread. My teacher was smart and made sure to incorporate every single patron of his biology class. Everyone left that class feeling like their perspective was important and they were reenergized to return in two days. Putting value in a student’s word is very empowering and it’s a great step to building positive rapport with students.

Hosting an open discussion is a great way to foster students’ taste for inquiry. Inquiry pushes student understanding to the next level because we are forced to form opinions and defend them if necessary. When our teacher asked each of us what our definition of science, we had built-in defenses for why we were correct. The basis of education is “teach[ing] students to be curious, skeptical, even contrary to ask for the whys and the hows behind what’s in the rote acquisition of facts” (Setting the Record Straight, 2004). The facilitation of conversations like “What is Science?” build a space for students to question, an idea that is absolutely transferable to the English classroom.

When my teacher pointed out the topics he did not have a full understanding of, he was demonstrating a form of transparency not often seen. Teachers’ admissions of weakness are actually endearing to students. Not only does it prove a teacher does not pretend to be perfect, it also opens up potential opportunities for students to flip the script and teach the teacher. Moments with role reversal like this are longstanding memories for students and hit home the material in a more direct way. While “educators tout… the importance of [fostering] ‘soft skills’ such as” the ability to teach a peer, “the profession’s attention to [soft skills] has too often been secondary” (Students at the Center, 2017). Showing chinks of armor makes it known to students that you are one of them and will not pretend to be a larger entity than them. That idea is one hundred percent crucial to creating a mentoring relationship with the student body.

Thank you so much for reading this week’s edition of my blog! I would love to hear any thoughts (in agreement or opposition), any suggestions you have, or any questions you may have. I will continue to update this on Fridays as the year progresses. You can follow me on Twitter @TheSammer88 for live updates from me. The hashtag #BowTieBoys has been compiling my thoughts and my partners’ thoughts, so be sure to check that out if you want to hear more from us.

BIBLIOGRAPHY:

Bracey, Gerald W. Setting the Record Straight (Second Edition): Responses to Misconceptions About Public Education in the U.S. Portsmouth, NH: Heinemann, 2004. Print.

DeVoss, DaÌnielle Nicole., Elyse Eidman-Aadahl, and Troy Hicks. Because Digital Writing Matters: Improving Student Writing in Online and Multimedia Environments. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 2010. Print.

Kallick, Bena, and Allison Zmuda. Students at the Center: Personalized Learning with Habits of Mind. Alexandria, VA: ASCD, 2017. Print.