For Just One Student...

Today marked the last day of the semester in my third year of teaching. Like most semesters, this one got away from me. The goals and plans didn't always come to fruition. I can say I did a lot of things better this year than the last and next semester will be one step better. As I ended the semester, I planned the same gift-giving venture as last year with one hand-picked book per student. And, like last year, this was met with a lot of groans and indifference. Some left the books on my shelf without more than a glance. Some handed them off to another student when they thought I wasn't looking. This is not shocking. The ideal gift for a student that struggles/dislikes reading is not a book. So why do I do it?

I do it because I hope it shows that I care about them individually. Even though I have small class sizes, sometimes I don't get to talk to each student like I want. I want them to know I've been paying attention and I know they like learning about space or that they want to be a mechanic. I know that they love a romance or a specific author. I may not be giving them the attention they deserve, but I have been listening.

I do it because some kids in my school don't get that many (or any) gifts for the holiday season. Both this year and last year, I had a large number of kids not open their gift because they wanted something to open on Christmas. They may come back in January and tell stories about their hundred of gifts from their parents or their new pair of shoes. They definitely won't come back and tell a story about the book from Miss Siel. But stories aren't reality and if I can make the break a little brighter, I want to do that.

I do it for just one student. The very best part of teaching is that your presence, your words, and your attention can mean something even when you feel like they mean nothing. Most days, I feel as if I'm talking to a wall.  Most days, I feel like they aren't learning anything and that I am terrible teacher. But some days, just one student, shows me it's not for nothing. Today, I had a student (who has moved out of reading for next semester-hooray!) write me a note that thanked me for believing in her and not letting her quit and give up. This was a girl that rolled her eyes at me several times, wouldn't even look at me for a week after I called her parents, and was failing my class first quarter.

So, it is true that most of the 68 books I carefully chose and bought were for naught. They will be discarded and the students will laugh if they tell their friends that Miss Siel bought them a book. How lame! But maybe, just one of those 68 books will mean something. Maybe one will be remembered. If it makes a difference for just one student, it is worth everything.

Searching for Motivations

This year at my school, we have been really focused on something called "restorative practices." Instead of action and consequence. students have to reflect about their own actions, motivation for those actions, who they affected, and possible solutions. They write this out on paper and then actually conference with teachers, administration, or peers in person to resolve issues. It's not a perfect system and it doesn't solve all problems, but I really like that students have to pause and really think about the choices they make.

I even change how I report incidents with this new system. Referrals now have a new piece where I have to choose a "motivation" from  a list including things like "obtain peer attention", "avoid work", "anger", "revenge", etc. This has had a big impact on how I think about behaviors in my room. Instead of thinking, "Timmy threw a book across the room. He needs to have a consequence", I think, "Why did Timmy throw that book? Was he frustrated? Maybe he doesn't understand the material. Tomorrow, I will give him extra help." Variations of this have happened all year. And because of the student's responses, I also learn directly from them. They write down that "Mary called me a name in the hallway so I was upset" or "I get really bad headaches and can't focus." It's opened up this channel of communication between many of my students and me.

Over the last several years, I've held this belief that middle school students have raging hormones and can't often express or control their feelings. Recently, though, I've decided this is not just a problem for 13 year olds, but for everyone. When I take a step back and think just like I do when writing referrals, the same motivations apply for adults. Why is she arguing with me about this? Because she's embarrassed that she was wrong. Why is she acting so ridiculous? She is trying to get peer attention. Why is she always so emotional? She feels overwhelmed in life right now.

The same thing applies to me too. The difference between me and my students is that I have confronted many of my flaws by this point in my life. I know that I don't look people in the eye when I talk and I seem standoffish. I know that I always want to be in control and when I lose control, I act out. But I don't know everything about myself. For one of my lessons last week, I had my students take a personality quiz. I took one along with them and one statement said, "I easily express my emotions." I went to click "Agree" and stopped. Just because I cry often does not mean I express my emotions easily. In fact, I came to the realization that I am TERRIBLE at expressing my emotions. Usually, when I'm crying it is not because I am sad, but because I can't put into words how I am feeling and that's my only outlet. Sometimes I will go an entire week fuming with anger and no one will know because I can't figure out why I'm feeling that way and can't express how I am feeling outwardly. I think I need to step back and reflect on my actions, motivations, and solutions just like my students do. I'd like to move toward more restorative practices.