Observation Blog: What Happens When We Decide a Student is Tough?

What?
Something I’m working on is figuring out what it means to teach to the whole student, to really use a holistic approach to teaching and learning. What habits of mind can I adopt so that I don’t see my student’s ‘personal’ life as separate from their ‘academic’ life? Giving access to my content is about addressing their well being. What does this look like?

I did my classroom observations in the purple room. It was a privilege. My cooperating teacher really paid attention to her student’s whole selves. She knew who was working and who wasn’t in her student’s homes, what activities they were involved in at school, and what they were like as learners. I want to point out that all those before, during and after reading activities setting up camp in the middle of Subjects Matter are also setting up camp in the purple room. I saw some journal practices I’m definitely going to steal.

But the thing I keep coming back to is a particular student who consistently doesn’t participate in any of these activities. I’ll call him Adam.

So What?

Classroom observations remind me of musical chairs. Everytime you play, you end up in a different seat. Sometimes you’re an active participant for the whole game. Sometimes you’re on the sidelines pretty much from the word go. During my observations in the purple room, I’ve been a grader of notebooks, a silent notetaker, and a disciplinarian. During my first observation, I watched the whole class take out The Stranger and read Chapter 1. The whole class that is, except Adam.

“Do you have your book Adam?” I asked. He nodded and his eyes flicked to and from his backpack.  I replied sternly, “I think you should take it out since you’re going to be quizzed on it shortly.” He gave me an aggravated stare and he did not take out his book. My cooperating teacher gave me a tight lipped smile and raised her eyebrows.

Throughout my observations I saw several attempts to redirect his behavior by both my cooperating teacher and the special education teacher who is often present. What I saw communicated to Adam were feelings of anger and disappointment regarding his grades and participation. For example, the slamming of a gradebook on his desk, or curt remarks as he stared into space. Sometimes he was pulled out for a minute or two. I’m not privy to the content of those conversations. I’ve been told his current behavior is pretty much what has been happening all year, that he’s tough. I can’t be sure, but because of what else I’ve seen in the purple room, I’m guessing anger and disappointment were not the to go to responses in September. But the year has marched on, it is the 4th quarter and Adam might not graduate.

During my last observation, I had a little aha moment, Happy people don’t go through their day like that. What’s wrong? The floodgates of my own memories suddenly opened up.

 

Throughout high school, there would be weeks or months where I would refuse to go to school. In the mornings I’d throw violent tantrums. Some days I would convince my parents I was going, and as soon as they dropped me off I’d grab the RIPTA back to a now empty house. I wasn’t doing this to drive my mother crazy. I wasn’t doing it to drive my teachers nuts while they struggled to teach someone with such huge attendance gaps. I had stuff going on, and until I took care of that, I could care less about school. My mom say’s now that I was tough.

But what happens we decide a student is tough?

Now what?

I don’t think that my mother or my cooperating teacher use the word tough as a label that makes it okay to give up on adolescents. But I do think that the language we use shapes our perceptions and vice versa. When we say a student is tough, it can shift the onus of academic success completely onto their shoulders. He’s tough, what can I do? A habit of mind I want to try out, in my efforts to teach the whole student, is to replace the word tough with hurting. I think a hurting student is one we can help, one who has wounds we can help them heal. I think that shift in language will help set me up to keep trying, to find more patience, and to never forget that the student and I are both responsible for their learning.