Passion

     Recently I started blogging about teaching. I’ve not taught for very long, only four years; however, teachers learn a great deal standing and delivering on a daily basis. In the first post I listed ten things I would tell new teachers. “Teach your passion” topped the list. I’d like to explore the idea of teaching your passion a bit more. I was asked to interview a prospective teacher and they said that they chose their subject area, history, in order to enhance their prospects. They loved coaching, PE, and health; however, someone told them that employment opportunities in those areas were limited. So there they sat, trying to convince me that they were the right fit for a subject

for which they did not burn. I see the same with students. Each year I speak with students who tell me that they picked their intended major based on advice to choose one that entails earning large amounts of money. Usually they focus on Per-Med, Business, or some version of Pre-Law. Well-meaning influencers, often parents, provide this advice. Far too few advisers encourage students, university or high-school level, to pursue their passion.

     Any profession, and perhaps most especially teaching, requires passion. Passion for a subject elevates commitment. I regularly hear students moan that all their teachers fully believe that their subject is the most important and do not care about all the work other teachers assign. Inwardly I smile. Outwardly I just remind them that despite what other teachers may say, my subject (history or English) is actually the most important. Those kinds of comments from students encourage me. They tell me that I work in a building full of dedicated professionals. The administration has hired excellent teachers; ones that believe their forty-five or ninety minutes are the most important of the day. Passion for their subject oozes out of their lesson plans.

     Passion leads a teacher to go deeper into a subject than curriculum requires. This quest, and it is a life-long one, follows an often circuitous path. In our high-stakes-test-driven scholastic environment, we reduce any subject to the key ideas a student must know for future success. In some districts, standardized testing has driven standardized lesson plans, homogenizing classrooms, hamstringing teachers, and rendering classes anemic representations of core subject matter. Passion for a subject pushes back against the societal forces that would water down education. This same passion leads a teacher to spend time honing their pedagogic skills and their mastery of the subject. Mastery of the subject strengthens a teacher, enabling them to delve deeply into a subject when the moment presents itself.

     Often a student will ask a question, unrelated to the published lesson plan, opening the door to a fruitful unplanned discussion. These moments, these golden moments, elevate the classroom environment. The passionate teacher, one that burns to see others love the subject, leaps through those doors, dragging the often reluctant or recalcitrant students with them. This passion often ignites fires that burn for the rest of the student’s life. True teachers live for such moments.

     Passion carries us through those days when we gaze out over a sea of bored faces. Before teaching I imagined that every day would be like the movie, “Stand and Deliver.” You know the one, where a dedicated teacher inspires all his students to reach higher than they believed they could. There are those days, but there are many average days in between. Every subject has portions that you must slog through, dragging your students along. We do not reach all our students. Some just fail to see the importance of the subject. On those days, our passion keeps us going. Passion keeps us going when sorting through the seemingly endless sea of grading and other paperwork associated with our profession. It helps fortify us when plodding through the morass of administrivia and periodic problem students or parents.

     Passion keeps us going when facing the dreaded parent-teacher meeting. It helps us remember that the vast majority of parents want the best for their children; even when they seem to enable or excuse failure. It generates a wider or longer view, empowering us to set our own feelings aside and make decisions that support the success of the student. Navigating those troublesome moments takes diplomatic skills. Passion for the student as well as the subject helps. Parents often sense when you are passionately committed to their child as well as the subject and respond appropriately. Passion often fuels the effort to develop a new strategy for a particularly nettlesome situation.

     Passion fires the continual search for a better delivery method. A short stint in the classroom reveals the incredible complexity of education. What reaches one student utterly fails with another. Each class is different. They all develop their own personality. A lesson plan that succeeds in one class falls flat in the next. Passionate teachers never stop trying to improve their game, knowing that their efforts will help them reach more students. They plow through seemingly endless in-service activities, often trying very different things in their classrooms. They continue to grow as educators.

     Passion for your content area is critical. If you do not think your class time is the most important you will not understand the necessity to go bell-to-bell. You will end up trudging your way through your career, wondering why it never lived up to the billing. Teach what you love. Be passionate about your subject. Do not settle for something less. You will spend eight or more hours a day with your subject. If it does not truly fire your passions you, and your students, are in for long periods of drudgery. So, figure your passion and teach that.

Maria and Words

     “Hey Mr. Robinson, how are you?”

     I turned and looked at the lovely young woman, not recognizing her. Even in the short time I’ve taught, I’m used to this, “I’m sorry. I can’t place your name.”

     “I’m Maria, you taught me American History at Monterrey.”

     The mists slowly parted as the synapses slowly warmed up. “Ah, yes, I remember. How’s your daughter?” Maria had come to my class in order to earn her high-school diploma. She’d dropped out the year before in order to give birth. Once she’d got her life back to a semblance of normal, she returned to finish up her school work. I remembered a petulant young mother who struggled to make it through the daily grind of class. “How’re you doing?”

     “Oh great! I’m in nursing school and doing well, thanks to you,” she replied bright brown eyes twinkling. She looked so much more in charge of who she was than I remembered.

     “Due to me? I taught you history and we never discussed nursing school.”  

     “Of course not. But you told me I could, remember, when I was taking a test. You told me that I could do it.”

     And then I remembered. I was administering one of the district required tests. I walked around the classroom, ensuring students stayed on task, completed their exams, and, hopefully, did their own work. Maria, a recent addition to our class, was continually off-task. She fidgeted, played with her pen, and pestered her classmates. I admonished her repeatedly, telling her to get back to work and leave others alone. I found her frequent disturbances annoying. Eventually in exasperation I said rather loudly, “Maria! Will you get back to work!”

     “Mr. Robinson, I can’t. It’s too hard,” she whined.

     “Maria, look at me,” I hissed trying not to show my exasperation. “You’ve given birth, right?”

     She nodded sullenly; annoyed at becoming the center of attention.

     “Well, I’ve witnessed birth twice. And I’ve seen how hard it is. There is nothing that Mr. Robinson can ask you to do that’s harder than that. You’ve already done the hardest thing possible. Now focus and get back to work!”

     Maria nodded and returned to her test. She remained on task until the end of the period, finishing her test. Once the bell rang, she gathered up her things and left the class with the mass of students, disappearing into the thronged hallway. Collecting the tests, I bade the students farewell. The moment passed into my memory, filed away in some corner of my mind where it sat dormant until that day in Walmart.

     For me that moment was all about classroom management. All I wanted was for Maria to stay on task and finish her test. I was not thinking on a deeper level. For Maria, this was a life moment. Do not misunderstand me; she did not come into my class thinking, “Oh, I’ll have a critical moment in my life today.” It was just one of those things that happen, a serendipity. I just said something to her in a way that she did not expect. She’d never thought that she’s completed one of life’s hardest tasks. For just a moment she saw things differently. She saw possibility when there had been none. Someone reminded her of the difficulties she’s already overcome and what that accomplishment meant for future possibilities. As I said before, I did not plan this moment.

     Experiences such as this bring great joy to teaching. You never know when something will unlock a door for a student; and you never know what door it will unlock. I was focused on a minor classroom management challenge, nothing more. Maria received something entirely different. Students are not passive sponges, sitting there absorbing all we say. Students walk in the door with thoughts, sometimes burdens, all their own. They screen our words and activities through the filter of their lives at the moment. In this case Maria heard something I did not intend to say, “You can do anything.” This leads me to another truth about teaching, the need for positive affirmation.

     Our words, small or great, impact our students. For many of them student-teacher interaction far outweighs student-parent interaction. I must guard my words, ensuring that whenever possible I encourage students, reminding them of the broad vistas of the possible. My words ought to build up, not tear down. In a brief unexpected moment I opened the door of possibility for a student and she stepped though. Perhaps the most astounding, humbling, and sobering portion of this moment is that I had no idea this took place. One of my students made a life decision; without my knowing. Understanding this ought to make me speak carefully; whenever possible positively.

     As always I crave your feedback. Let me know if this helps, or if you think it needs improvement in any way. I welcome your comments. If you find these writings helpful, like and share.

     

Things I would Tell New Teachers

     I love teaching. I face each day with excitement. When my feet hit the floor in the morning, I never know what challenges and excitement will come my way. When the door opens and students stream in I gladly greet them. Teaching is one of the few jobs where each day starts fresh, full of new possibilities. Many people trudge through life pursuing a career for which they are ill-suited. They drag out of bed each day, every dreary day, and head off to work, toiling in a career that brings no joy. Their labor leaves them unfulfilled, save for the paycheck; while I work at a task which demands my utmost in creativity and dispenses rewards gross and subtle. I am truly blessed to have pursued two professions I fully enjoy; being a soldier and officer in the Army and now teaching.

     I came to teaching later than most. After serving for twenty-seven years in the U.S. Army, I retired and returned to school, obtaining a Masters in Secondary Education. Eventually I secured a position at a small parochial school in Lubbock, Texas; where I teach Social Studies and English. Our school administrators seek to provide a quality educational experience at a cost most middle-class families can afford.  I enjoy the small class sizes and the creative flexibility small numbers provides. I also enjoy the light load of extracurricular duties that come my way. Periodically I am called on to interview new teachers as part of my duties. I often think about what I would tell a group of new teachers. It was not so very long ago that I stood before my first class. What advice would I give my slightly younger self?

1.       Teach your passion. All too often we make career progression decisions based on what we think will provide success. I’ve spoken to prospective teachers who chose their field based on employability or other factors. You will spend eight hours a day working with your subject. Make sure that you love it. If you do not, you’re consigning yourself to spending large portions of your adult life working with something that does not provide joy. You and your students will suffer. You may find short-term success in the job market, but will face great challenges down the road. In this area, follow your heart. If you love your subject, chances are that joy and excitement will rub off on your students.

2.       Remember, you are the adult in charge. When the door swings shut everyone, even the students, expect you to run the show. As an adult, you have the upper hand. Students may try to convince you otherwise, but in their hearts they want you to exert your authority. Do so properly. Parents may question you, but in the end they want their children to learn. The principle may wonder about you and their decision to hire you. But they want you to exert appropriate control. Never forget that as an adult you know more and have the skills necessary. Explore different ways to use the authority you’ve been granted. My students may not be sitting at the ready, with pencils poised over notebooks ready to record my every word, but they understand that I expect a certain level of behavior. They often challenge my authority; some days it seems like every minute. But, at the end of the day we all know who the adult is and who is expected to keep good order and discipline.

3.       Do not be afraid to inforce discipline. I periodically catch myself hesitating to enforce the standard, fearing students will no longer “like” me as a teacher. Students will lose their respect for me when I fail to fairly and impartially inforce the rules and standards. Students will normally perform to the standard you inforce. When I inforce discipline from a consequences standpoint, eschewing anger, most students respond positively.

4.       Be careful when employing relational teaching. Everyone likes to talk about relational teaching. Properly executed, relational teaching, teaching from the standpoint of knowing your students, works well. However, do not confuse relational teaching with being your students friends. I personally prefer the term mentoring. My students do not need a fifty-five year old friend. They need an adult who understands them and is committed to helping them develop the skills they need to succeed in the school environment and life to come.

5.       Plan well. Do not stint on your lesson plans. Take the time to carefully think out and write down what you will do during your class time. A well-constructed outline of your planned lesson will help you navigate the sometime chaotic waters of classroom instruction. As in writing, an outlined lesson plan provides structure for your class; and students thrive on structure. I frequently deviate from my plan; however, I normally start each class with a detailed plan.

6.       Exploit whatever level of technology support is available. While technological song and dance does not guarantee a great classroom experience, it helps. Look for ways you can use computers to support your instruction. Well-chosen automation supports the learning process. It does not have to be complicated or expensive. I use several apps that do not charge for their service. Be sure to check de-bug apps as much as possible. While nothing works perfectly, some apps are more trouble than they are worth. Students enjoy the periodic and appropriate use of technology.

7.       Do not be afraid of failure. Do not let fear lead you away from trying new things. Some days things just do not work properly. Your plan may be a poor one. Automation may fail due to network issues or unforeseen bugs. Students understand this. More than once I’ve had to say, “Well, that did not work as I planned. We’re not doing that again.” Students appreciate the honesty. Have a back-up plan in your hip pocket so you do not waste time. Whatever you do, always be willing to try a different approach.

8.       Be willing to admit you were wrong. None of us are perfect. Students, parents, and administration know this. They are not perfect. When you make a mistake, apologize seek forgiveness and move on to the next issue. No one likes a no-it-all; and students appreciate a teacher who willingly admits a mistake and corrects the problem. Often angry parents turn into avid supporters when you say, “Oh, you’re right. I was wrong. I’m sorry and will try to do better the next time.”

9.       Be flexible. Some days things just do not work properly. Your best plans may fall apart at the last minute. The printer will jam eating a most critical handout. A student may have a melt-down in the middle of class. A bookshelf may decide that now is the moment to fall apart all over your classroom, taking your laptop with it. The list goes on. These things will happen. You cannot change this fact. All you can control is how you respond. If you take things in stride, making adjustments to your plan without a display of anger and frustration, students will adjust with you and you will enjoy more peace.

10.   Have fun. You will spend eight or more, usually more, hours a day at this job so extract as much joy out of the process as is possible. Every job has challenges and portions we do not like, but make the most of the rest. If you think a lesson is dull and boring, it probably is. Do your best to find interesting ways to transfer information. If you found the planning and preparation process exciting it will show up in your classroom execution.

     Teaching is a great and noble profession. It is one of the few that enables one to continually explore an area they find fascinating. Every day I teach, I get to spend hours talking about a subject that I love. I get to try to convince over seventy teenagers that my subject is the best one. I get to hang out with a group of young men and women who think I know what I’m doing…whether it’s true or not. I get to laugh and occasionally cry. If I find something unusual, beautiful, or fascinating I get to share it. When I close the door, I’m in charge…sort of. It is fun and entertaining. And twice a month they throw money at me for doing what I love. Welcome to the club.