Saturday, June 14, 2008

Keeping Distance Keeps the Peace

Sixth graders are at an interesting point in life: they are at the stage of disbelief.
"Nuh uh."
"No way."
"Sure. Right."
"Who said so?"
"Why?"

A nine year old can ask why, and you can bet he or she means: "Why?" in a really serious "Why does that happen? Why does that work? Why does that mean that?" kind of way.

Two years later, he or she asks, "Why?" in a "I don't think you really know what you are talking about" kind of way.

Two years later we are re-living the terrible twos in the form of something more frightening: the terrible tweens.

Of course, first let's re-spin this word "terrible" to "challenging". It's much more accurate and post-Dr. Spock.

As an educator AND an adult I have double-jeopardy in the world of sixth graders. They can hate me in two ways.

They are not mystified by adults at this point. I do not have the advantage of awe anymore. In fact, awe I think leaves around second grade and is replaced by tolerance through fifth. They would like to like me, but I represent two forms of authority which they can easily resent.

The best answer is keeping a friendly distance.

I often state, "I cannot be your friend. I can be your teacher." This is usually in response to a request to "Don't tell anyone" or "Don't tell my mom". I try to smile as I say it, to carry the message that being someone's teacher isn't so bad. (In fact, I secretly hope I am cool but it's a dim hope. I resent teachers who have the image of cool purely because I cannot carry it off. )

A common mistake in teaching practice is to be too friendly with students. It's a newbie error when starting out in all forms of industry and creates a particulary stressful nest of vipers when placed with children as an authority figure. I will not recount the horror stories I've heard about new high school teachers attending parties of students, new middle school teachers involving themselves in the personal social lives of their students, etc. It destroys any chance of respect when engaged in teaching students, and worse, diminishes all teachers in a small way.

In truth, older children do not respect adult "friends". As their AIC (adult in charge) to function as their leader, I need their respect. We should never attempt to be like their peers through joking or extreme behavior. Children need structure and respond to consistency, and as their adults-in-charge, we use those needs and responses to develop or "earn" their respect so we can do our ultimate job: teach.

I have a high regard for those teachers who can easily carry themselves in a lively fun debate with their students and then turn around and introduce the lesson. I don't have that skill (yet). In fact, I may hold myself a little too distant from my students, but, during these days of media-fed teacher-student scandals, that's the safest bet.

When starting out as a teacher, I've heard the advice: Don't smile until Christmas. It's a truism that smiling too much sends a message to students that "Hey, I won't be mad if you dump pencil shavings on a neighbor".

I don't know why, but three smiling Septembers later, that appears to the message. To combat that message I now start September with very FEW smiles. I can NOT not smile. That's not my nature. But I do smile less and I DO find that my classroom management has improved (meaning: the class does (often) get quiet when I ask them, a milestone in teaching).

In the beginning, I wasn't badly dressed, but a little casual. These days I dress more deliberately. That is to say, I match better and my clothes are less weekend mom and more shopping mall mom. I sometimes wear make up. On the days that I wear a suit, I have their complete attention. I am still exploring teacher dress styles. I am trying to find one that is "me" yet is still professional because I although I like suits, they are a little restricting.

I also make fewer jokes. I enjoy speaking with my students but "on the side" (of the classroom). I don't have personal conversations while I am "up front". I've found that if I start joking around up front, then it sends out a message that I am comedian inviting responses from the audience. But I don't need interruptions. I need their attention. This part is hard for me, because I am a natural jokester, but I've learned to adapt. I am trying to use my style, my placement in the classroom, as a signal. If I am up front, I expect quiet: the lesson is starting. If I am on the side, looking at your paper, I might admire your work, and then ask about your day. This maintanence of placement in the classroom as a signal is difficult to do but it's something I am looking forward to developing.

As a sociable person, it was a bit of a challenge at first to relenquish some of my need for their attention and allow them to have the spotlight of my attention. I am applauding at times, and laughing when appropriate. It is a universal human need to be wanted. As a teacher, I am predisposed to fulfill this need.

Without any disrespect toward this common shared human bond of need, I underscore the idea that we have two different roles in the classroom: teacher and student. I show this by respecting their privacy and, by extension, mine.

Being friendly and not a friend, in their sense of the word, will always prove to be in the best interest of both student and teacher.

No comments: