Should we fear or love our teachers?

As a teacher, am I more concerned with being feared or loved? And by loved, I don't mean LOOVED, I mean respected and open. Should I be putting the fear of my terrible wrath into them to "get it done, and do it right", or should I allow them some grace? I tend more toward the grace side of things. I really think my students, ALL my students, are hilarious, sharp, gifted, talented and sweet. I like them. I like going into class and seeing what new epiphanies and ideas they will have. To me, "winging it" means opening the class up to them and letting them take the lead. And yet I wonder, am I being too hippy-dippy? Too easy? Maybe at the beginning of the year I should rise up like an ancient dragon-lady and pour forth laser-beam glances and vicious sneers. Maybe I should set more of a strict tone in my classroom, reminding my students who is in charge and just exactly how things will get done.

Call me Cuckoo Mc Crazyton, call me Mary Poppins-ranka, but I think students shouldn't be afraid of me. I don't think students learn better if they live in fear of my judgment upon them. I know it is really tempting to be all-knowing and all-powerful, but in the end, where does it get me? I am not all-knowing or all-powerful, so why should I keep my students at a distance from this finite amount of knowledge? What am I afraid of? If I cultivate an atmosphere of respect, openness, and humor tossed in with some good boundaries, then my students won't be afraid to come seek me out for help. My door is always open, and my lunches and free moments are taken up with students who have good questions. I am happy to answer questions, and no question is too silly to be asked. My favorite teaching moments are when I meet with the student who wants to write a better intro, or the student who wants help dissecting a poem.

I want to be loved. Not LOOOOVED, but I want my students to know that I am an advocate for their learning, not a hindrance to their education.

Suckers!!

This is the first year I have taught seniors, and they are a nutty, if hysterical bunch of loons. My last block class on Friday decided to play a "prank" on me by simultaneously popping suckers into their mouths. I have an anti-sucker policy in my classroom. I call them "germsicles" and in a season of scary, uber viruses, I think licking suckers is akin to licking someone's used kleenex. My seniors started trading suckers with each other in this afternoon of prankery. I just sat and laughed. They were slightly disappointed that I didn't run screaming from the room, but it takes a little more to get that response. In truth, it was a highlight of my week. The bottom line is that my students listen to me, and they HEAR me. Their joke is proof-positive that they are engaged in my classroom environment.

After reading the New York Times magazine article about building better teachers, and today's Denver Post article on a similar topic, I see education reforms on the horizon, and I am freakin terrified. In the last 20 years, too many education reforms have come and gone without lasting change. In a sense, we look at education reforms in the same way we look at widget-producing. The students become the measures of education's success, but the standards for success are not clearly defined.

In my mind, there are three simple things that could happen tomorrow that would change the face of education reform. Ready??

1. Administration walk-throughs and more interaction with teachers, classrooms and students. If administrators walked through the building, stopped in classrooms informally, and got to know at least 50 students by name who didn't have prior arrest records, then that visibility would become a powerful tool.
2. Becoming "proactive" instead of "reactive". If you govern a school by constantly REacting to problems, then the burn-out occurs more swiftly. Disseminate information liberally. There is no power in hoarding information that impacts the school as a whole. Keep the faculty and staff informed and fewer problems will occur. Tell people what they are doing right before you launch into what they are doing wrong. And delegate, often. As I like to say, if your hair is constantly on fire, build a fireproof helmet.
3. Making your classroom an engaging, creative, (dare I say it) FUN place to be. Whoever said that you shouldn't smile until Thanksgiving was joking. I set clear boundaries in my classroom, and I demand high standards. But I am a benevolent dictator. I listen when students aren't clicking with a particular assignment, reading or task. If I change the lesson or due date or expectations based on valid student input, then the students know I HEAR them. And hearing what your students have to say gives them ownership, which immediately changes the classroom environment. Also, you should joke with them. Never laugh AT them, but laugh with them. If they can laugh in class and if you don't take yourself too seriously, then your classroom is not only a place where THEY want to be, it is a place where YOU want to be. And students are happier and more engaged if YOU want to be in your own classroom. Period.

Education reform should be simple and doable in any classroom from here to Hawaii. It should meet the needs of students, teachers, admins, coaches, secretaries and custodians. I wonder if we, as a nation, could handle that kind of simplicity.

Let my love open the door....

Valentine's Day has come and gone again, and one of my students wondered if we have one day of love, do we have 364 days of hate. It should be the other way around, right? We should love people every day, give them flowers, eat lots of chocolate, feel loved and treasured... every day. Having the one day just seems to highlight the worst perceptions of love; that those who don't have this certain kind are left out, and heart-broken.

I love that Pete Townsend song, "Let My Love Open the Door". I love the idea of love having healing powers, especially when the heart has been broken by love. I don't know that my heart has been irreparably broken by love. Maybe that is a bad thing, like if my emotional heart were competing in a marathon of love, I'd be stumbling along with a side-cramp. But I am in the game again, I started online dating (oxymorons, anyone?) and this last weekend I had a flurry of responses to my online profile. My online profile says as much about me as my 401k. Vague, ambivalent answers to prescribed questions that will magically help me land a man. I wouldn't say that I am cynical, just multi-faceted. I like meeting people face to face. But in our culture, even that has become a Fear Factor event. But as my friend Eric reminded me the other day, if you wanna catch a fish, you have to put your bait in the water. So now here I am, fishing (for lack of a better analogy) for love. And I suppose that the hope (hopenness) that I have this year will allow me to answer love's knock at the door, and let him in.

When people keep repeating
That you'll never fall in love
When everybody keeps retreating
But you can't seem to get enough
Let my love open the door
Let my love open the door
Let my love open the door
To your heart

Happy Valentine's Day <3

I'd like to thank...

Well, awards season is upon us. I must admit, I relish the dresses, the presenters, the categories, the host banter... gah, I love it.

And now the crazy part, I have practiced my Academy Awards speech, like a few times. I mean, it could happen, I could write a hilarious and touching screenplay or a song that makes it into a quiet yet powerful movie. My name would be called, I would put a hand on my chest, fan my eyes a bit, kiss my date (Gerard Butler, obviously) and step up to the stage where Matt Damon would hand me the giant man of gold. What would I say? Who would I thank?

I love critiquing the acceptance speeches of the people who win. Meryl Streep is great; so humbly thankful and articulate while also charming with a little joke. Jonathan Demme is awful, goes on and on and on and on while being totally overwhelmed and flustered. There is a certain balance in a good acceptance speech; grateful and surprised while also being poised and articulate. That music is going to play you off, are you going to leave the stage without thanking your husband?? (Hilary Swank... talking to you)

I basically think you have to thank four groups in your speech; the people who gave you the award (der, they voted for you), the people you worked with (because they made you look good, never forget), your parents (they made you who you are), and a spiritual force of your choice (mine is God, because I can do all things through Him who gives me strength).

Until I get that award-winning screenplay or juicy breakthrough role in the next Tarantino film, I will continue to watch and love award shows and practice my own acceptance speech in the shower with a bottle of shampoo.

Being Hopeful and Open....

The Holidays, love 'em or hate 'em, they come around every year. And each year I look in the subtext for a lesson or thought that I might take with me into the new year. This year I feel like I receved two words; hope and openness. Those were the theme words for my holidays. Everything that came up became another lesson in how to be more hopeful or more open.

Hope to me means openness. The optimism that follows a really good day, the feeling we get when we have accomplished something, those are examples of when I feel most hopeful. But hope to me is a state of mind more than anything. I have to go there, even when I don't feel like it. And I think that at the core of all of us, there is a little bit of hope, even when all seems lost. Even the most hardened pessimist can feel a shred of hope in something good, even if it is just a nice piece of cake.

Openness is a little harder for me. I think I am an open book most of the time, but I don't always allow for the possibilities that COULD be. I tend to live in my safety bubble, hoping that things will turn out for the best, no one will be angry or hurt, no one will be uncomfortable, the doors will be safely locked against the outside world. But as I look at my locked doors, I wonder how many good things I have kept out. I don't want to live with regret, but I also don't want to stay walled up against the scary (yet ultimately rewarding) parts of being a grown-up.

So 2010 to me is about openness and hope... I call it my year of hopenness :-)