Working the Gap - Require Authenticity, Demand Humility

"I encounter citizens not consumers, unruly sparks of meaning-making energy and not a mess of deficits..." --William Ayers, To Teach: The Journey of a Teacher

There is no way to truly understand teaching without stepping forward to meet those students (we assume) we will take the helm for in pushing their growth toward becoming a full, well-rounded, thoughtful human being. 

Even that language is quite lofty for the real nitty-gritty of teaching today.

There are times when I have sat down in my junior high school dyad and wonder if I had just run into not a generation gap, but a generational windshield that buffets my efforts from blooming the way I would like to see it happen.  The students are quite blase and open with talking, public displays of affection, and language that would have landed me in detention during my own junior high school years.  Too many mornings have been passed in mutual blankness between myself and the students--they weren't "mine" to discipline, which bothered me when I had to intervene in a horseplay turned argument.  Nothing galled me more than pointing to the two students for discipline, when I didn't know their names, their thoughts, or their personalities.

Then today, for a moment, these generational fogginess changed.

Our placement teacher was introducing the topic of freedom in the United States and abroad to the students.  Eventually, between students' imput of their ideals of freedom and the history of freedoms in the U.S., the discussion turned to veterans in past and present wars.

"Who in here has had family in the armed forces?" In every class, there were at least a quarter of students who would raise their hands.  One by one the students' sleepiness started to vanish.  They were hesitant in sharing their family histories--yet you could feel the new focus as they listened to each other.  I even overheard one tough-looking boy mutter to his friend, "mine's not even that cool", then spoke to the class--his great uncle had been the service mechanic to the Tuskegee Airmen.  The Tuskegee Airmen.

By the end of the day, I asked myself if I was in fact seeing the kids from the wrong side of the lens.  I felt I was magnifying their flaws and ignoring any signs of their strengths.  Granted, the dyad placement doesn't provide the same opportunities as a September Experience.  I felt that my mind was being placed on a different track, a second train of thought that I hadn't been able to find.

"Unruly meaning-making energy".  "Mess of deficits".  Trying to hold one picture of a student is like trying to take a picture of lightning.  The bare bolt that shows up in the photo is a frozen moment, while the current moves onwards.

If I can do any students a favor this quarter, it's to see past the first vivid frame.