Tag Archives: Students

Educating

I tend to refer to myself as an educator rather than a teacher. Although I implicitly know the difference, a few conversations last week prompted me to articulate an explanation for the distinction.

Defining

According to Merriam-Webster, to teach means “any manner of imparting information or skill so that others may learn”. It has an Old English root meaning to show or instruct. By this definition, sometimes I teach. Sometimes I explicitly show my students how to do something. Sometimes I also instruct them in what to do when completing a task, which is also known simply as giving instructions.

But more often, I aim to educate. To educate, according to Merriam-Webster, “implies development of the mind” to which Google clarifies, “intellectual, moral, and social instruction”. The etymology of this word comes from the Latin word educere, to lead forth. From here I conclude that educating means raising good people who can live and be well.

People-building Revisited

I’ve written before about what I think of as people-building. In that post, I focused on the importance of asking young people who they want to be. I wrote about asking students why they have certain goals and I argued that understanding why can lead us to who – the type of person who does those things.

These are important conversations that educators need to have with their students.

In wanting my students to grow into good people, I try to take the time to talk with them about who they are and who they want to be. It’s a joy to ask students about their dreams and aspirations not only in terms of next year or the following year but in terms of ten years down the road (thank you to the friend who suggested this guiding question). I end up learning a lot more about them than I could have otherwise and acknowledging students as people who matter is important.

But there’s a lot of resistance. With the very real pressure of coursework and exams it can be really difficult to talk with my colleagues about the big picture. There’s a lot of resistance to taking time away from learning, as people claim, but there are clear points at which meaningful learning actually happens. What do you remember from high school? I want to ask my colleagues who roll their eyes. What did you learn in your classes?

I learned some content but I also learned how to live. And I remember the teachers who helped me grow as a person.

In high school, I learned that Doc Lo Re loved chemistry because it helped her understand the world. I learned that Miss Rabinowitz read voraciously because she found words beautiful. I learned that Mr. Khort was tough when he knew you could rise to the challenge and that Mr. Menchel kept his promise to be there in a crisis.

I remember who they taught me to be.

It is from my teachers that I learned to seek understanding of the world and my place in it. I learned to ask questions; I learned to look for and find beauty everywhere; I learned a way to hold those I love in palms of my hands; I learned the importance of actions.

I learned from the teachers who saw me as a person and wanted me to live well.

Educating

If educere means leading and educate means developing aspects of the mind, we need to spend more time thinking about what we want our students to walk away understanding. Not knowing but understanding. If a student never sets foot in a humanities (or science or literature or math) class again, what do we want them to understand about the world around them?

And then, equally importantly, how are we going to lead them there?

These are questions that teachers (note the word choice, please) don’t ask. Teachers talk a lot about what they want students to know by the end of a lesson, unit, or project, but rarely about what they want students to understand about the world they live in. Teachers rarely talk about the world at all.

If we want to educate, to lead our students forward, we need to be much more deliberate in our intentions. We need to ask why certain things matter to them and we need to ask who they want to be today, tomorrow, and ten years from now. We need to know what they love and why they’re doing what they’re doing. We need to know what matters to them.

Developing the mind is a lifelong process and it happens with or without thoughtful consideration.

So let’s be purposeful. We are, after all, raising young people. And we need to lead them with care so that they grow as good people who can live and be well, and who help make the world a better, more peaceful place.

Doing Difficult Work

Yesterday I had one of those moments when I was being punished for being good at my job. I was being punished (or so I felt at the time) for caring about young people and their learning. I was being punished (or so it seemed) because I cultivate purposeful, meaningful experiences and I believe it is my responsibility to make sure that students’ time is well spent.

As I continue to learn, not everyone thinks about education the same way that I do. And that can be very, very isolating.

I don’t like being told that I care too much or work too hard or that we’ll wait and see. Sometimes waiting and seeing is fine, but it’s not fine when “wait and see” means being reactive instead of proactive. It’s not fine when our inability as adults to take responsibility for difficult work puts students in positions where they cannot be successful. It’s not fine when waiting and seeing means picking up the pieces once there are enough pieces.

It might be hard to say no to student and parent whims, wants, and desires. It might be hard to implement procedures and policies. But it’s also necessary. So that we don’t have to pick up pieces.

Because students are people, not pieces, and they deserve to be treated as such.

Which is why, when asked to take on a task yesterday that is far beyond my roles at school, I did. Because someone needed to do the right thing and someone needed to make sure that a child who was hurting learned from his actions.

This is what I mean when I talk about people-building. This is what I mean when I say I want to raise good people.

We form relationships. We do work that is challenging. We do right by students.

And I say “we” because people responded when I asked for help. Students deserve to learn. And we have chosen to raise them.

How I Work with Students

Several weeks ago, I had the opportunity to speak with a group of education students at the university where I did my Bachelor’s degree. The professor was one of my advisors when I did my Master’s elsewhere and we bonded immediately over having the same advisors once upon a time, her as a PhD student and me as an undergrad. She’d invited me to Skype with her class about teaching overseas.

As I talked, I realized that I knew a few things. I realized that I’ve come to both understand and actualize, to the best of my ability, how I view my role as an educator.

To summarize: Working with students is a social contract in which I am responsible for helping young people succeed.

To clarify: Success does not have a single meaning. Social contract may not even have a single meaning; rather, it means that I walk out the gate every day knowing that I have done, to the best of my ability, what is right for young people. I owe that to them. Not to their parents. Not to the institution. I owe that to the kids.

Nearly three years ago, when writing about education became important to me, I articulated my opinions on good teachers. But there are some important elements that I missed, things that have become clearer to me as I’ve gained life experience.

I think that my work with students can be divided into three broad categories:

  1. Positive rapport
  2. Structure
  3. Tools

Positive Rapport

I care deeply about my students, both as classroom learners and as people. My students are people first (aren’t we all?) and we happen to spend time together in a classroom. This comes with constraints, rules, responsibilities, and expectations for all of us. But they know, and I know, that their experiences, their hopes and dreams, their insecurities and fears, are what drives the work that we do. That’s what drives the relationships we have.

I know who’s taking the SAT over the weekend and I know who went out to dinner because I ask and they tell me. When I mentioned that my arms were sore, they reminded me that I’d gone climbing several days earlier. They’d remembered.

When I talk excitedly about books, some students go out and buy them. When a student recommended a novel, I got a copy and read it. We laugh and we joke and after knowing each other for long enough, we tease a little bit. Because we really are all in this together.

Recently, a student asked me to look over a creative writing assignment. I’d never heard his writing like that before and was touched that he’d shared it with me. Another student sat with me last week to set up a study calendar. Three students in the last two weeks have come to talk about social dilemmas and others spend time in my classroom during break times because they know they can.

And I’m not always friendly, not at all. In fact, students usually characterize me, or so they tell me with smiles on their faces, as intimidating. But they know where my heart is and that makes a difference. Reputations are built. This matters.

The rapport I develop with young people, then, is possible because of attention to the next two categories: structure and tools.

Structure

I spent part of the weekend in a workshop about assessment and I was shocked at how new it seemed to so many people. It made me wonder what happens in their classes. It made me wonder about the learning experiences of their students.

Students report being comfortable in my class because they know exactly what is expected of them. I’m meticulously organized, which makes it easy for them to be so. I have a deep understanding of both content and what actually matters so I can guide my students through it. This matters.

At the end of the day, my job is to prepare students for the IB exam they will take at the end of grade 12, but my goal overall is for students to understand more about who they are and what exists in the world around them. My students know this because we talk about it all the time.

Class is organized and we operate in a very specific way. There’s predictability, consistency, and explicit attention to why we’re doing what we’re doing. It’s a lot easier to put pieces together when you know where you’re supposed to end up. And it’s easy to trust someone who has handed you a map and makes sure you know how to follow it.

This is not to say that students don’t find themselves stressed and anxious. On the contrary, they very much do even though it doesn’t come directly from me. But we talk about good stress, bad stress, and stress management. We explore the myths and pressures that come from “somewhere out there” and talk about what is realistic and what is important. And if today is a bad day, we talk about what to do differently tomorrow.

The point of today is to learn from the successes, errors, and experiences of yesterday and that’s what we do. That’s what we do every single day.

Tools

Over the years I’ve learned where students struggle and with what. I’ve been working to understand why they run into problems and I’ve reorganized objectives, assessments, and lessons to address these problems. I’ve talked openly with my students about what I notice and ask for their input. I’ve tried some of what they suggest and solicited feedback about what we’ve done together. I know what the most successful students do and I willingly share what I know.

I also know, because I’ve asked, what each student’s goals are. We have a “how far should we push?” conversation every now and then, and sometimes the answer changes. My students are honest with me because I demand it of them, because I am honest about my concerns and what I understand about who they are and what they want.

My students have a toolbox and I have one, too. The trick is figuring out what they do that works and what I can supplement. And yes, there are standard tips and tricks. There are ways that I, the teacher, know will work better. Sometimes it’s fine to let students play around and figure it out. Other times, however, it’s my responsibility to tell them to do it this way for this reason. It depends on the stakes, the goal, and the reason behind the learning.

And when something goes wrong the conversation begins with, “What did you do to prepare this time?” and leads to, “What can you do differently next time?” while addressing concerns, areas help is needed, and what else is going on in students’ lives. This matters.


So this is what I know. This is what I do. These are the elements of good teaching that have become clearer to me over time. There is much to be said for what happens accidentally, organically, or unpredictably with young people, but it’s vital to consider what happens when we plan and act with intent. I owe that to my students and this is what I aim to give, every single day.