History Matters

I picked history because it was the subject I hated the least when I was in high school. I knew I wanted to teach. I knew I loved kids. I knew this was the right profession for me, but picking a subject area was the toughest part of getting started.

Luckily, in what I would consider a common experience for many of us, I fell in love with my subject matter because of a great teacher. It only took 20 years and countless hours of courses, but I knew what I wanted to teach.

 

Part of the allure of history and social studies, more generally, is how you can teach it. I feel for my math colleagues that are somewhat limited in how they can present their content. In social studies, almost anything goes. While we've been typecast as the "movie show-ers," and the boring story tellers, our discipline becomes more important and more relevant every day, in my opinion. The common core has tied social studies to critical thinking and writing skills that are crucial pieces of communication in life. The 1:1 initiative in many schools has opened so many instructional doors that its hard to keep up. The tech wave that's cresting was made for social studies. 

And while I've recently pushed my students towards current events involving the Donald Sterling tapes or the missing Malaysian airplane saga, I still come back to history. I love the strides social studies has made towards teaching what's really important for kids to know in the 21st century. We've replaced teaching the War of 1812 with the tragedy of September 11th. We talk about the Civil Rights Movement in context of the gay rights and immigration movements of today. We have to bring history to the present day and make it relevant for our students. Kids need those connections, but kids need history too.

I'm wrapping up my final year of teaching Advanced Placement United States History, a course that carries the reputation of being grudgingly difficulty and incredibly tedious. But in studying the highs and lows of our forefathers, I hope my students have felt the weight and importance of our country's past. 

History is rewarding. Dramatic. Restless. Puzzling. Romantic. Inspiring, And in some cases, unfair. 

What a parallel to life. 

Often times, we don't have to look far to find the passion behind what we teach. The importance of our subject matter and its relevance to who we are teaching gives us the answer every time. 

It Takes a Village...

A screen shot of our GHO on my phone

Today was another day circled on the calendar. Another obligation. Another family function. Another moment that I otherwise take for granted. We are fortunate to have such an amazing support circle and true to form, my son's baptism today was another outpouring of love from our family and friends.

There was something missing though. My sister, who now lives in Italy, is 8 months pregnant and obviously could not fly to be with us today. She and her husband are the godparents. So we did something no one would have dreamed of years ago- we had a Google Hangout and they were were able to see, hear, and share in our special moment. The church could hear them respond when our priest asked them if they were willing to accept responsibly for raising our son in the faith. There's power in that- being 4,651 miles away- yet still, connected.

We are very lucky and very blessed in so many ways. It shouldn't take moments like these to admit that. My son is fortunate to have a village of people raising him. Many of us can probably say the same thing about own own children and families. Unfortunately, for some families, this is far from the case.

I think about my students in times like these. I know for some of our kids, the school is their extended family. Their classmates function as their support circle. Some of their teachers act as mother, father, brother or sister. There's power in that, too.

Maybe it's easier that way. What if we all treat each other like they are a member of our family who is counting on our support. We could recognize that no family is perfect and that all families are different. Members of the family sometimes drift and we could pull them back in.  Other's aren't in the family, but we treat them like the closest of blood relatives. But that's what family is.

School is family- and it takes a village to raise the family's children.

Our school community doesn't ask for this service, we provide it for them. We owe it to our students to be "en loco parentis," and accept them into our circle of support. My personal priorities certainly are shifting these days as I spend a lot more of my free time taking care of my son. But I want to make sure that Diego, Jay, and Stephanie are taken care of- because in a sense- they are family too.

Every Student Deserves a Connection With Their Teacher

Most teachers have a student prototype that makes this job really, really easy. For me, it's a student who does all their homework, asks amazing questions in class, plays sports after school, recites 90's movie lines, and tells me that they want to go to Marquette. When that student walks in my classroom, we already have a relationship and it's gold.

Few students fit that description. Many of my students don't do their homework or enjoy asking questions in class. Most of them could care less about sports or my movie lines. The truth is, the sooner I learned that my students aren't me, the better teacher I became. That's not to say I did all the work, but its more to say, relationships are created and nurtured over time.

I have a student this year that I share very little in common with...

On the first day of school, she visited me in my office to tell me a sob story of why she did not have her summer homework. She was terrified and embarassed. Usually when AP students don't do their summer homework after 11 long weeks to complete it, I'm already raising the red flags.

From that moment, she went about her work quietly and never said a word in class. Her grades on tests were above average and I could see that she was internalizing our system and benefiting from the dilligence to her work. I began to regard her as a serious contender for a 4 or 5 on the AP test, despite knowing all along, that I had invested very little in her success. I hadn't tried hard enough. I did not forge a relationship with this quiet, sweet kid.

A few months ago while grading her notebook, I wrote her a short note apoligizing for not getting to know her better. I told her how impressed I was with her work and how I wanted to be a bigger part of her journey to getting college credit on this exam. I told her I believed in her, because I do. I made sure she read my note. When she did, she shook her head and smiled.

Two weeks later, I was returning tests to my students. As I approched her desk, I looked at her score and was shocked. I handed her the scantron. She looked down and saw her score. It felt like that moment in the movie where the music stops and the audience is left hanging.

She looked up at me with the most amazing smile I've seen. We gave each other a high five and I turned away to avoid welling up in front of my entire class. For the first time all year, she acheived the highest score in the class.

In many cases, we aren't teaching who we are, we are teaching who we aren't.

And while we don't always have a lot in common with our kids, we can create commonalities and value success together. We share in each other's learning and collective success. This particular student of mine has taught me a lot more than I could ever teach her.

Maybe this is a story of neglectful teacher. Perhaps it's a nod to the power of a hand written note. Hopefully as you read this, you feel inspired to reach out to those students who you may not share a lot in common with. Students like her make me realize that if we are uncompromising about anything in our profession, maybe it should be-

Every student deserves a connection with their teacher.