Monday, April 20, 2009

A Supplemental Reflection

Since I only have a captive audience for a bit longer, I thought I'd share a reflective piece I wrote that dovetails from my original piece. In both pieces, I attempted to grapple with the dynamics of the student-teacher relationship. I'm still not sure I'm crystallizing my thoughts on this matter as well as I'd like to, but if you've time and the inclination, here is my second attempt on the matter. Thanks.


I had an interesting conversation with a group of my advisory students yesterday. The conversation started something like this - "That librarian got some issues. I didn't do nothing to her, so I don't know what that attitude's all about!" Following C's comments, a slough of responses to her impression of the librarian began to pour in from the class. This led to a veritable bitch fest where students began to comment on every bad or mediocre teacher they've had while here at Bartlett. After listening for several minutes, I felt compelled to ask, "Okay guys, I've got a question for you. Based on your comments, one might think that every faculty member at this school is rude, condescending, and completely dehumanizing. Is the climate here at this school really that bad, or are you guys just fixating on a few bad experiences and over exaggerating the overall situation?"


By and large, the sense of most of the students was that about 1/2 of their overall interactions with teachers and faculty members is in some way negative. Specifically, most of the students said that they don't feel respected by the adults in this school. Strangely, if you were to ask most teachers, they would reply in same fashion - that most students don't respect them.


Respect is a funny thing. Perhaps the most basic human need, next to physiological needs, is the need to feel validated and valued as an individual. This is all respect really is, a simple acknowledgement that, "hey, you are there and you matter." One would think that such an important and simple thing would be easy to find on a regular basis. Why is it then that we have such a scarcity of it here at our school?


I've got a few thoughts on the matter. The obvious culprits are students and teachers whose mama's didn't love them enough. You know which ones I'm talking about; you can recognize them by the face they wear, chronically distort by anger and mistrust. You know them by their voice, shrill and full of resentment. You know them by their words, everyone of which is directed at belittling someone or something. Still, the chronically unhappy only account for a handful of these people. This leaves many teachers and students who spew disrespect at select others, but are otherwise happy people in most environment. Case in point is teacher B. I speak with teacher B quite often, and in our conversations she is consistently pleasant. She always wears what appears to be a genuine smile when around faculty members, and laughs voraciously at even the stupidest jokes. Yet, to hear her students speak of her, you would think she was the Anti-Christ. Her students loathe her, and comment about her daily attempts to belittle her students. They complain that she never smiles, is always insulting, and never gives students a fair break.


How do we account for teachers like teacher B? My sense it that our titles are too blame. Often in life, our positions relative to one another affect the manner in which we communicate. Those who are invested with authority are often compelled to treat others as children, to deny them what most would consider common respect, under the believe that their position dictates that they do so. Thus, teacher B feels that her role as a teacher demands that she be heavy-handed with her students. Anyone who has ever observed the candid conversations among teachers at my school would attest to the truth of this axiom. Teachers, when discussing the woes of classroom management and the decline of modern youth, vow that for every increase in classroom disruption or insubordinate behavior, they will respond with an equal measure of austerity.
Escalation ensues.


The matter is not merely one of duty. Most teachers feel that their role as teachers entitles them to student deference. When a student, even a relatively benign one, disrupts class, many teachers personally slighted. As a colleague of mine once grumbled, “I’m here for their benefit and it’s not like I paid a hell of a lot to do it, so it infuriates me when they don’t even have the decency to pretend like they’re paying attention and shut-up when I’m talking.” Her impression was minor compared to another colleague, who may quite honestly believe that the abysmal behavior of his students is a sign of an impending apocalypse. “When I was in school, nothing like this ever even existed. A kid wouldn’t even think of speaking to an adult the way half of my students do. If they did, they would be around long enough to encourage other students to follow because they would be out of school! Our students have no respect, no fear of punishment, and no values. All such comments reflect the belief that teachers and adults, by virtue of our position, are entitled to complete deference from our youth.


To some degree, I feel as they do, and many students recognize this as well. In fact,after discussing the overall perceptions of my advisory students in my 2nd hour English 11 class, many students were quick to point out that the negativity many students feel is simply karma. As Nicole remarked, “Those kids who say 75% of the adults in this school disrespect them are the same kids who are causing all of the trouble in class. I like all my teachers and get along with the ones I don’t like.” Perhaps she’s right. If teachers are by virtue of our position entitled to reasonably obedient and civil students, don’t we have a right to become indignant when we don’t receive it? Moreover, is it not our right and responsibility to adjust the severity of our attitudes towards students until they comply?


I humbly submit that the answer is that righteous indignation is counterproductive. Of course, there are moments when I want to scream at students and bring them face to face with their disrespect. Most times, they are clearly in the wrong and they know it. Still, I've yet to find many teachers who have had success in truly teaching a student the virtues of respect by chastising them. I've found even fewer who have inspired a love of literature and writing (or any facet of learning) in students by forcing them to remain fearful and silent in the learning process. Yet, I've seen first hand how powerful an effect a kind and compassionate teacher can have. Conversely, I've seen the damage a spiteful teacher can do in diminishing or complete extinguishing a student's desire to learn.


I'm not advocating that disruptive students should be allowed to behave with impunity. On the contrary, I think consistency in rule enforcement and consequences for poor behavior are paramount. However, enforcing rules doesn't necessitate an exaggerated emotional response, and a student's poor behavior is seldom intended as a personal attack. In as much as we teach with our curriculum, we also teach with our actions. What message are we sending to students when we emotionally detach from them the moment they behave out of line? What is to be gained by either party by treating students with indifference or condescension simply because we feel we have the right to?

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