Old School, Middle School

Just as it is true of any profession or vocation, you have to work at the kind of teacher you want to be just as you have to work at the kind of person you want to be.

Sometimes we forget. At least I do.

After twenty years in education, I am finding that two of the most valuable commodities in any school building are teachers who are a) receptive to collaboration and b) willing to make the school experience pleasant for kids.

I am so mad at myself for forgetting that sometimes. I have not been that collaborative and willing guy every day of every year.

How lucky I feel to work closely with a few people who are so good at the positive energy and the reminders to do good things for kids! Just this week, I walked into a team meeting and one handed me a postcard and said, "Start off the meeting writing a positive note to a kid and their family." Another conscious effort we made this year...but again, I had forgotten to do one since Christmas. How lucky I am to have colleagues constantly working at raising all of us up too--not just the kids.

It becomes too easy to plug myself in behind my desk and fuss over "my" curriculum--I don't have time to collaborate. Too many papers to grade. Too much to plan.

And it becomes too easy to hide behind the mantras of discipline, accountability, and preparing kids for their future! Hey kids, do that worksheet, write that essay, get it done, get it done, get it done--I'm only preparing you for next year.

When I look back at myself in that chosen role, I ask myself, could I have been a student in my class? Can't I choose to be another way in the classroom?

I had gotten away from planning for enjoyment, planning for the kids' enjoyment, planning for aspects of a young person's development other than what their SAT scores might be in three or four years.

I had gotten away from making the conscious effort to be a mentor and not a judge. I think I have that one corrected...or at least better in recent years.

I am relearning that if we, the educators, do not take a step back and plan for the whole child, we end up being contributors to a lot of stress, anxiety, and out-of-joint relationships.

Well, the team of teachers I work with took an hour and planned today for a fun St. Patrick's Day:

1. We agreed to dress the part (green hats, shamrocks, etc.)
2. We agreed to create an ongoing challenge for the kids (count the shamrocks you find throughout your day; keep your eyes opened for gold chocolate coins throughout your classrooms, etc.)
3. Each classroom teacher will build in a little St. Patrick's Day activity into whatever it is they would be doing in class anyway. Maybe the word problems are leprechaun-themed, maybe the poem I open class with is by an Irish poet...something...)
4. Our culminating activity at the end of the day is to gather the kids by homerooms in the gym. Once there, the homerooms will participate in two activities:
• a relay race running spoonfuls of the cereal across the gym and fill up the container
• put together a puzzle of their homeroom teacher dressed as a leprechaun

We used an app called "Leprechaun Me" and transformed ourselves. Then we plugged those pictures into an online program  which turned our faces into puzzle pieces. 

We took screen shots of the puzzle pieces and the plan is to produce them on a large, color printer. Next week, we'll be cutting them out and preparing everything whenever we can steal some time in our work day or at home.

In the end, we know some kids will remember the experience more than the Irish poem I may share in class. When we went to great lengths to create an "Amazing Race" activity before the holidays, kids wrote and told us how much fun they had and how much more they enjoyed it than sitting and watching a movie (which we've done before the holidays or big field trips for years).

A colleague, who has been around much longer than me, pointed out how "old school" that Amazing Race activity was--that that was how much fun middle school used to be, and how much kids crave those kinds of experiences mixed into their educational experience. We used to take the kids camping overnight, and we would transform the middle school into a haunted house. We had sleepovers at the school with movies projected on large screens. 

We used to go way more out of our way to do fun things for kids. 

And I know my colleague loves this upcoming activity--that this is going to be great for so many kids.

But, these types of days and experiences don't just happen. They take a lot of work. And they require two major components which I will repeat: a) teachers who are receptive to (active) collaboration and b) teachers who are willing to make the school experience pleasant for kids. 

We all have it in us.

We just forget sometimes.

All that is good

One of the best parts of any school is the week of the high school musical. For all of the great things occurring in schools across the country, the high school musical involves so many kids forging new relationships by working towards one goal together in a public space. 

Opportunities to celebrate kids in this way are so rare and so special. I hope lots of people go out and see their show.

From the perspective of a middle school teacher, it is always so much fun to see all of the faces on the stage. It is also really cool to hear the buzz and energy coming from the middle school kids before the show.

For about three hours today, middle school kids were having fun with an educational experience.

For about three hours today, teenagers were sharing their passion, talent, and hard work.

For about three hours today, middle school teachers and students watched teenagers about to move on into uncertain futures take creative control of their lives. 

For about three hours today, the arts opened the door for some middle school kids who don't fit in anywhere yet. There are kids who will try out for the musical next year, and in so doing, forge new relationships and grow.

It is one of the things I always loved about the arts--the ability of it to show us our humanity--whether we know it or not.

How could I possibly go back and just teach? I tried last period. But my gosh, my teaching in the class just fell so flat today after that inspiring experience.

Maybe I need to change things up next period. Maybe when my break is over, and my next classes come in, maybe we should just take some time to talk about what we saw...the growing they will do...the relationships they will be a part of...and everything that goes into it...and everything these kids with me today can be. Not who they are...but who they can possibly be.

Leaving the performance today, the cast was lined up to greet the audience of eleven to thirteen year-olds on their way back to the middle school. So, in the spirit of the viral Academy Awards selfie, I took a few selfies with some great kids in the cast.

If you would, and you are on Twitter, take a second to visit me @_briank_ and retweet one of the selfies in celebration of all that good in education and especially all that is good about the next generation. After all, no matter how much testing one shoves down our throats, good teaching is ultimately about relationships.

I loved what you all did today.

You remember the man

Digging through family photographs, I found a photograph of my grandfather before my mother was born. He stands with a friend in front of poster of wrestler Maurice Tillet--the man who many claim as the inspiration behind Shrek. After researching Tillet, I wrote a poem about him.


Frenchmen can be happy about everything

Credit: thehumanmarvels.com

but sad only for love.

Born 
to French parents,
a freak,
in the Russian Urals,
a physical question mark,
Maurice Tillet,
speaker of five languages,
laughed at by children
who called him La Singe,
the monkey,
laughed at by audiences
who know him as Shrek.

Ashamed,
sadness overwhelmed him, 
so he ran to the sea
to reinvent his life on the water,
where sailors, too frightened by sea monsters,
torpedos,
kamizee pilots,

do not care what you are.

Suffering

Credit: thehumanmarvels.com

from the incurable acromegaly,
no sailors spoke to the face which never smiled,
no sailor argued with Tillet,
gunner on a French destroyer,
honorably discharged,
and hired to frighten children 
away from Paris movie houses.

Discovered
by an American promoter chasing the money,
the French Angel,
with hands as big as plates,
hid from daylight 
in hotel rooms and movie theaters,
for wandering the streets caused riots
and fainting women,
because his bones thickened and misshaped 
a good man into the grotesque.

Begging
to return and fight for France,
when Hitler marched through mountains,
the Ugliest Man in the World,
rejected by the U.S. Navy,
rejected by his homeland,
would never fight for either.

Fearing

Family photo: my grandfather on the right.

a woman would see his face,
never know him,
and only desire his money,
The Angel,
never to marry,
turned over large sums 
to the French Red Cross,
visited VA hospitals,
filled a library in San Francisco
and read every book.

Harassed
by a U.S. senator,
to fight a U.S. senator for the world title,
to prove that wrestling was not fake, 
not a sham,
not an organized racket,
The Angel turned the other cheek.

Forced
to strip in the ring
to share his horrible misfortune,
to become a misshapen specimen of manhood,
Tillet earned $100,000 in one year
to be laughed at,
and shamed.

Mocked
by grown men escorting women,
Tillet made his peace with it,
found happiness in life,
speaking and eating painfully slow,
supporting twenty French war orphans,
for their entire lives,
and living his own full life,
by taking what he was given,
and turning it into a positive.

Remembered,
by those who knew him,
by those who saw beyond the skin,
as a warm, friendly man,
with intellect and compassion.

Remembered,
by those who knew him,
by those who saw beyond the skin,
as one of those rare souls
you no longer remember because of appearance.

You remember the man.