Speak Life

Today's the day before Thanksgiving break, and I'm not going to lie: I did not want to work today. I wanted to stay at home on my couch reading Inkheart or watching a Harry Potter movie.

This morning before school, one of my students brought me a thank you note today that just said, "Thank you, Mrs. Suders"...and that was all. Frankly, when I saw it, I was a little disappointed. I wasn't prepared for what came next.

She handed me the paper.  "I wanted to write you a thank you note, but I didn't know exactly how to word it, so I just wanted to come to you and tell you in person," she said, pausing to take a deep breath. "Thank you for telling us that we're just as good as the other schools and that we're not bad..."

At this point, she began tearing up; her voice broke, and her lower lip started to tremble, so I blinked back tears and stood up to hug her.

So often, my students are told they are "bad" because they go to this high school. People don't have high expectations for them because of their skin color or the fact they attend an "East End" school. I am guilty of falling into this mindset sometimes, but today, I was reminded that it's a self-fulfilling prophesy.
 If I treat my students like they are "bad" kids, if I have low expectations for them, then I am failing at my job. For some, I might be the only person who believes in them, who cares enough about them to push them, and who really does think they can graduate high school or go to college or go into the military or be anything other than a drug dealer or thief.

It's my job, my calling, to speak words of life to them and to uplift them and encourage them, NOT to tear them down.

I am SO thankful for this amazing student who reminded me of the awesome responsibility I have as a teacher. THIS is why I teach. Today, I am humble. Today, I am thankful.

Go Ahead. Read Instead

I know I've been a whiny, grumpy teacher this fall. I've complained about the 12-hour workdays and that lack of appreciation and the increased demands and the spreadsheets and the new rules. I've chosen to focus on how miserable I am and how I feel like I really could be making more money doing something else (and working fewer hours).

But my job is really, really great, guys.

I get to work with kids each and every day. They walk into my classroom, and I get to influence them, teach them, listen to them, correct them, and learn from them.

We begin each class with independent reading. Twenty to thirty minutes of pure silence. Just the kids and their books and me and my book. In that moment, we are all equal. We are all just readers.

The other day, our thirty minutes of reading time came to an end, so like I always do, I said, "OK, guys, find a good stopping place and write down your progress on your reading log."

No.one.budged.
No one moved a muscle.
They were all too entranced in their books (or, for the few who forgot their books, they were into their magazines). All nineteen of my kids.

I just paused and smiled. These are the same kids who, at the beginning of the year, whined and grumbled when I told they we'd read every class. The same kids who fought me when I told them they needed to actually read a book and finish it. The same ones who used to check the clock every 2.7 seconds and roll their eyes, annoyed that reading time wasn't over yet.

I just savored the moment, took a deep breath, and grinned from ear to ear, my eyes tearing up, but none of my kids saw me to poke fun at me, because their eyes were glued to the pages of their books.
"What were they reading?" you may ask. "What amazing book did you find to captivate them for so long?"

No, no, no. I didn't find them an amazing book. They found their books themselves, and this, I believe, is the key to successful independent reading in the classroom.

Finally, some kids stirred and reluctantly put their books down. But one student didn't.
He read his book while we did our grammar mini-lesson, oblivious to the world around him. And I let him read. I didn't redirect him. I simply let him read while we moved on. In fact, he didn't budge until we started moving desks so we could sit in a circle for our reader's theatre of The Crucible.

GASP. What?! You, a teacher, let a student BE OFF TASK during class!

Uh, yeah.

There are more important things in teaching than getting every single student to do every single activity all the time.

Like instilling a love for reading.
Like letting a student fall in love with a book, get sucked into the plot, become attached to a character, and then come to me at the end of the book asking if there's a sequel.

It is truly amazing what students will do when you meet them where they are and give them freedom and choice.

Yes, I am the teacher, and yes, I am in "charge" of my classroom. I am the authority figure, and I enforce rules and plan lessons and all that jazz.
But I cannot MAKE my students learn.
They make that choice. And they will be more likely to choose to read, to choose to learn, if they actually get to have some say in the matter.

You know what's really great?
My job, and my kids, and my coworkers, and the fact that I have helped at least one student become a reader this year.

That is the best feeling in the world, guys. It really, truly is.