Southeast Coastal Alumni '77
I like to think of myself, and my method of teaching and reaching kids as transformative and innovative.Every so often, when things don't go as planned in the classroom, I have an "aha moment". Just when I think I am going where no teacher has gone before, I realize that I am getting stuck in a rut and going where every teacher has gone before, traditional teaching and traditional classroom management. I realize at moments like these that I am allowing the locus of control shift to student behavior, and away from meaningful moments. As educators, we've all done it. Average educators do it more than they realize. Focus becomes so intent on delivering content and instruction to students, that if someone asks us, " What do you teach?" the canned response is fill in the blank for whatever subject you teach. In the public schools, it is easy to make this slip. In the era of " No Child Left Behind" and teacher accountability, and test results being the ultimate measure of a teacher's success or failure, it has become a rat race that ultimately does just what it intended not to do. It leaves children behind.
The day I learned to be a "decent" teacher, back in the early 90s, was the day someone asked me, " So what do you teach?" and I responded, "Children. I teach children." The next milestone for me was becoming a parent myself. Once I had become a parent, and someone would ask me the same question, I would respond, " I teach children. I teach your child." These are fundamental distinctions that make me decent at what I do. I'll never admit that I'm great at what I do. I imagine the board of directors at SOAR reading up to this point are saying, "What is he doing? Admitting he is not great... SOAR is a world class program." While the preceding plug for SOAR is true, admitting personal greatness would suggest that I have nothing further to learn. That couldn't be farther from the truth. The truth is, I learn new things every day, when I take time to reflect. I hope I never stop learning to do it better, whatever "It" might be now, or in the future.
Desert Southwest Alumni '65
That said, I found myself engaged in a brief stint of mediocrity today in the classroom, but I didn't realize it right away. Imagine if you will, a classroom filled with extremely intelligent students, each with their individual differences and challenges, only one of which include a difficulty to focus and stay on task. You have your kids who think they are cooler than "The Fonz"( I date myself here), the kids who want to be "The Fonz's groupies". Then you have the class clowns, and the class clown wanna bes. You have the rebels both with and without causes, and you have your Charlie Brown's with the attitude, " Why is everybody always pickin' on me." You essentially have a microcosm of a much larger school, with everyone and every personality type represented in one classroom. In essence, you have the Sweathogs on steroids in that each and every student represented is a distinct and unique individual, but in contrast to the depiction of the Sweathogs in Welcome Back Kotter, at Soar, you have many students who haven't fit in at their previous schools, but students who all have tremendous potential just brimming under the surface, waiting to be discovered and or recognized.
Definitely could be a Soar alumni - year unknown
Another Soar alumni from the archives
I finally come full circle. Let me say for all the worried directors and nervous parents at this point, that academics and setting high expectations for academics is of the highest importance to me. I was just reminded today, through my interactions with your children of the answer to that age old question, " So what do you teach?" My answer reawakened in me, "Your kids." I had the perfect lesson plans today. They were real, they were relevant, they were engaging. They were the kind of lessons that if I had to ask a kid, "So why should you care about this?" I believe they would be able to formulate a quality response. I was in a groove of knowing we have a long way to go, and a short time to get there. After all, at SOAR while academics are very important, students are only in a traditional classroom setting 5 days every 3 weeks, and then get their instruction 2 to 3 hours a day on expedition. We have to cover material in a comprehensive and quality way so that students can ethically get credit for their coursework. I was feeling a pressure to be accountable for results. After all, everyone, from the directors to the parents at SOAR have very high expectations, as they should.
So, like I was saying, I was in class with the perfect lesson but the kids weren't fitting into my perfect mold for behavior. One student in particular was having a hard time with her own personal challenges. I had redirected this student for days. We'll call her "Jane" for confidentiality-sake. Although I was patient and I understood the challenges that "Jane" was facing, I was getting a little impatient. While Jane contributed to class, and did her work, she was disrupting class, frustrating other students, and keeping me from my "everything goes as planned agenda", which I should never have because I know better.
It wasn't as if "Jane" wasn't aware and sensitive about her own conduct. She was having a difficult time managing her conduct, and she was getting really down on herself. I decided to follow the advice I had been given by my stepfather years ago, and advice I had given to many teachers in recent years. I did what that students and the others least expected. I stopped teaching. I remembered my own saying, " What do I teach? I teach kids" and decided to throw caution to the wind and throw the remainder of the lesson out the window. For as people wonder, "If a tree falls in the woods but no one hears it, did it make a noise?", so too did I wonder, " If I continue to teach but no one is listening, did learning really take place?" It was a teachable moment and I took it. Jane was incredibly down about herself, feeling that she couldn't do anything right and that she couldn't control herself. She was feeling sorry for herself. I could relate. I had to let her know.
I shared with Jane and the group more about my daily challenge as a person who stutters. I wanted to let Jane know that I could relate to the way she was feeling, though we both had our own very unique challenges. I told Jane, and the group that last week had been a really terrific speaking week for me. I had rediscovered speech therapy after over 10 years without, and a therapist who was golden at Western Carolina University. I shared with Jane, as others listened in, how last week had been one of the best speaking weeks I had experienced in years, but that due to stress, I wasn't feeling that confident this week. Another student chimed in that I sounded really good today. I thanked him for the vote of confidence. I went on to tell Jane that she needed to shift her focus from the negative feelings about things that probably are less significant than she thinks, to the few small but significant successes she had experienced in the past few days. Since Jane was not accustomed to focusing on her successes, I shared a success that Jane had experienced with me with the group. Jane indicated that it was an incredible boost and that she hadn't even realized how successful she was. She realized that I was not angry with her, or impatient, but that I legitimately cared.
I spoke to Jane after class, because she owed me a few minutes for her disruptions, but I decided to make the few moments we talked continue to be affirming rather than punitive. I wanted Jane to see my classroom as "an oasis in the desert" rather than a place to be feared or dreaded. We talked in greater detail about the success I had seen in her that day, and how all those things she was convinced she could not do, she had, very effectively accomplished for an entire hour working with me. She was surprised not only that she had been successful, but that she had done so for an entire hour. It was the beginning of perhaps a shift in focus that had been so rewarding for my own life, that perhaps I was passing along to Jane; Celebrating successes no matter how small they seem. We talked about acknowledging challenges but not letting them hang us up because we all have them. We talked about recognizing and celebrating small successes so that they might be fuel for future successes.
So my break from a "rut of mediocrity" that I almost got stuck in, to engage in a teachable moment was not academic in nature at all. Taking the time, to break out of the molds we tend to set for ourselves, if no one sets them for us, allowed me to make a connection with one particular student, and set and example for the other students. Today, I went where many teacher fear to tread, away from the mainstream expectations that can be measured by a grade on a test. I reminded myself that some of the greatest gifts a teacher can give a student are immeasurable, in being human, and being approachable.
I recaptured even more of the idealism that I've regained since coming to SOAR, that education can truly be about the students and for the students without exception. I was reminded of what a former student of mine from 20 years ago wrote to me on Facebook just last week:
Brian wrote:
... you made a lasting impression. If every teacher I had would have been as dedicated and as caring as you school would have been a whole lot easier. You proved that it was possible to be a teacher and a friend...."
I taught Brian when I had been teaching for 2 years and in retrospect knew nothing about teaching and learning as pedagogy. So perhaps the art to teaching is much more simple than "The Academics" would make it out to be. Perhaps I'm not just an average educator after all.
Mike Lefko
Academic Director
The Academy At Soar
Your Child, A Soar student, could claim this desk and chair one day