Bad Teachers and the "Little Sh*t"

At times, it is easy to become painfully naive. I am still a student of education. I'm not in the classroom every day so it's easy to be starry-eyed and overly idealistic. 

It's easy to think that all teachers try their hardest to reach every student and that each teacher feels called to teach.

I know that's not the case.

When I took my Introduction to Education class, Dr. Atkins gave us some advice. "Stay out of the teachers' lounge." He explained that the teachers' lounge could be a toxic environment for teachers. It was a place where teachers sometimes complained and even gossiped about students. Teachers, like humans, aren't perfect. And all teachers are not the same.

Some teachers are nice people, some tend to gossip and be cruel.

I would like to think that teachers love their students and want to watch them grow.

In Dr. Atkins' class, we had to do a lot of observation, some days spending 8-3 in the schools. I had a delightful 6-8th grade English teacher that I shadowed. She was very nice and I enjoyed spending time in her class. Let's call her Mrs. Smith. One day, Mrs. Smith invited me to go to lunch with her...in the teachers' lounge. I had to be at the school all day, I was planning to eat lunch at school—and it would've been awkward to say no.

So I ate lunch with Mrs. Smith and a few other teachers. Among them was Ms. Brown. She was a few doors down from Mrs. Smith and I frequently saw her in the hallway, standing beside her doorway with a look of displeasure on her face. I took her to be a stern and likely unpleasant teacher. She reminded me of the "mean girls" I had encountered when I was in school. 

The teachers were mostly talking about personal things when Ms. Brown spoke up. "Jeremy Rodriguez has really been a little sh*t lately." Ms. Brown went on, describing his behavior and his complaining about how horrible he was. The other teachers didn't say too much. They neither rebuked her nor agreed with her. 

Jeremy Rodriguez was in Mrs. Smith's Honors English class. He was quiet boy who, like many middle schoolers, was still discovering himself. He obviously had the raw intelligence to do well in school but occasionally forgot to turn in assignments or lost them in the monstrosity that he called a "binder." He didn't speak much during class and was quiet while working on assignments but seemed to get along well with his peers when they were allowed to freely speak before the bell rang.

He wasn't a little sh*t.

Something was wrong in Ms. Brown's classroom. Something was wrong with the way she was interacting with Jeremy. 

Things are rarely the students' fault. Perhaps they have a disability, don't speak English as the first language, have a difficult home situation. Maybe they're hungry—or just bored. You have to reach all students. 

Jeremy did well in Mrs. Smith's English class but was "elevated" to problem student status in Ms. Brown's class. 

There will be Ms. Browns in the school I end up teaching in. Mean, lazy, and perfectly comfortable with how they teach. It's a sad reality. 

Some teachers can speak to the Jeremy Rodriguezes of the world—I want to be one of those teachers. 

Introduction

Today begins my new blog about my journey to become a teacher. 

For a moment, I struggled to find a title. Something about "future teacher" wouldn't work because I want this blog to live into the days where I'm a "real teacher." Ms. H's classroom wouldn't work, either, because I don't precisely have a classroom—and I won't for at least a year. But then I came up with Raising the Bar Classroom.

I believe teachers should raise the bar and expect more of their students. 

I believe that if you hold your students to a higher standard, they're going to perform.

I haven't worked a lot in a classroom other than the observation hours I completed for my Education minor at Centre, which was about 75 hours, I would assume. 

I have, however, worked with kids quite a bit. For five years, I have worked through the local recreation department as a cheerleading coach. Every year, the season culminates with an exhibition where the girls get to show off a dance routine and a longer cheer, if they wish. Some teams simply do a few sideline cheers—the same ones they do at all of the basketball games. I believe this is cheating the girls. For my team, I composed a long competition-style routine and long cheer. We worked hard. Very hard. The routine was difficult for even the most experienced girls on the squad, and many of the girls had never cheered before my time with them. At the exhibition, my squad—composed of girls from preschool to second grade—performed a routine that was more difficult than any other routine performed at the exhibition, even by the third-sixth grade squads.

Were my girls exceptionally talented?

Not necessarily. I had some talent on my squad, like all of the other squads likely did. 

My girls were good because I would not let them be mediocre. I knew they could perform the routine I choreographed for them. I held them to a high standard—and they performed.

I want to translate that into my future classroom. I want to expect bigger and better things from my students.