Archive for the ‘Growth’ Category

Running Shoe Sketches and Three Minutes of Class Time

Wednesday, July 14th, 2010

I’m sharing this story with everyone so they might feel more confident about changing their agendas and schedules to focus on what’s real and important from time to time.

The other day my wife and I were out for a walk when a car that drove past us slammed on its brakes, made an abrupt U-turn, and drove right up to where we were walking on the sidewalk. I was slightly concerned until I saw who jumped out: a former student shouting, “Mr. Ross! Mr. Ross! I have to tell you … ”

Four years earlier I taught this boy, now a young man, in a 10th grade social studies class. He wasn’t what you would call a ‘strong’ social studies student, but I’ll be the first to admit that the content was not enthralling, and it most definitely wasn’t relevant to a lot of the 15 year olds in the class. Anyway, several times during that semester I saw Ryley drawing running shoes, and I thought, “OK, the boy likes running shoes.”

One day, however, during an open book exam, I walked past his desk and saw he hadn’t even started because he was busy drawing yet another picture of shoes. “Hmmm…” I thought, and asked him, “Ryley, what’s up with the running shoes?”

With a big, embarrassed smile, he replied, “I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?” I asked.

“No one knows. Like I always draw running shoes and I don’t know why. It’s weird, right?”

And here I saw a 15 year-old boy who knew he should be working on his in-class exam, who knew he wasn’t the strongest social studies student in the class, who knew that there weren’t many other kids who drew running shoes, and he looked pretty embarrassed being caught with what he thought was a weird habit.

“Not at all,” I said, “I think it’s great! How long have you been doing this?”

“Like for as long as I can remember. I’ve always wanted to make running shoes when I grow up.”

“That’s great!” I said and I proceeded to tell him – in the middle of the open-book exam, that he was lucky to know exactly what he wanted to do at such a young age. I had run this lesson with that particular class, so this advice wasn’t coming out of left field, and I encouraged him to sketch out a life-plan that included running shoes. “Heck,” I said, “I can just see me and everyone in this room one day paying big money for your shoes. Wouldn’t that be awesome if we were all wearing your shoes one day?”

He nodded and smiled, and I gently encouraged him to get started and do his best on the in-class exam. That was it. Three minutes of my time.

Fast-forward 4 years and here he is, jumping out of his car to tell me, “I’m doing it! I’m doing it! I sent my designs off to a manufacturer in China and I’m getting my first prototype in a couple of weeks.”

It took me a second to figure out what he was talking about and then, once I did, he and I excitedly told my wife about the story of him drawing running shoes in social studies class.

“You were the one Mr. Ross. You were the one who told me to do it. I just thought you’d want to know.”

(How much time did I invest? Three minutes. It had nothing to do with me … but anyways … )

And here I saw a young man who was excited about life and his future plans, confident about himself, and grateful to a former teacher for not scolding him for drawing pictures in class when he should have been working. It was pretty cool to say the least, and I’m happy I spent the two or three classes talking to that group of students about life.

I’m glad I chose to make an otherwise boring course meaningful instead of  simply ‘covering’ the curriculum.

I’ll end with Ryley’s words, who messaged me on Facebook the other day:

hey mr. Ross! hope your doing well, i just thought i’d tell you i’m leaving to florence italy on tuesday to attend Polimoda fashion university for shoe design!!

Focus on Student Actions and Choices, Not on the Student

Wednesday, May 5th, 2010

There’s a massive difference between someone judging you and someone judging your actions and decisions.

When someone says that you’re bossy, or timid, or too sensitive, what they’re doing – usually without even knowing it – is psychologically backing you into a corner. They’re dead-end conversations. You can’t differentiate you from yourself.  So when someone says, “You are this,” well it’s only natural to get defensive. “What?” you’ll say to yourself, “They’re saying this about me? How could they?  No, no, no! I’m not that.” And off you go mentally defending yourself from the direct judgment made about who you are.

On the other hand, if someone comments on something you have done or chose to do, then their remark isn’t as much about you as it is about your action or decision. There’s psychological wiggle room. There’s room for discussion and exploration.

The focus on the action or decision allows us to step outside ourselves.

We can safely reflect without worrying about threats to our identity.

Focusing on our actions and decisions enables us to detach from ourselves … a key ingredient for meaningful reflection.

We can even join the other person in a discussion about ‘the act’ or ‘the decision’ without discussing who or what we are (or aren’t).

Now this is all very esoteric stuff, but it has massive implications for teachers and their dealings with students. I’ll illustrate with two quick examples, and will let you mull it over thereafter. I would love to read your comments.

Example 1: The statement,

“Come on Susie, you have to be able to accept criticism in life if you want to be successful.”

is about who Susie is. If Susie was your student she’s going to be thinking she has to change, whereas this statement frees Susie from the worry about who she is and allows her to focus on the consequences of her actions and decisions:

“Susie, have you ever thought about how many growing opportunities you’re going to miss out on if you continue to cry/ blow-up / retaliate whenever someone tries to give you constructive feedback? You’re better than that. Do you really want to let those outbursts rob you of important information that could make you stronger … and maybe more successful?”

Example 2: Or what if a teacher asks a student to leave the room, or sit off to the side, or do push-ups for repeated misbehavior … and the student retorts, “Why do you always pick on me.” (I got this a lot this year). In my opinion, the teacher shouldn’t get into the ‘about me’ trap. The discussion should shift to one about actions and decisions. A reply like the one below points out to the student that he’s not the problem, it’s simply his actions and decisions that are causing him problems. So I would say,

“Gee, I don’t know Dylan. I wish I could answer that question, but only you can. You know, I don’t like it when you sit off to the side, but you keep saying and doing things that result in that happening. It’s not that you’re bad or I don’t like you. It’s just that you keep deciding to put yourself in this situation. What’s funny is that I don’t think you really want to be in this situation. It doesn’t make sense, really … but it’s not like you’re giving me any other choices.”

The point is this: Discussions about actions and choices enable far more meaningful and reflective conversations than “you/me” discussions can ever generate.

Introducing the “Sanity Savers” Series for the Upcoming Teaching Year

Tuesday, September 8th, 2009

Last year I talked with lots of educators across North America and one thing kept coming up: the year was abnormally busy and people were stressed out. Educators were saying the same thing everywhere: teaching is really, really stressful.

We all know that teachers are overworked, under-resourced, and on stage all the time. Just trying to ‘cover’ all of our prescribed curriculum while making it palatable for our students – let alone exciting – is ulcer-inducing on its own.

Heck, being in a room with 20+ children or teenagers 5 days a week can be enough to send someone over the edge.

Then there’s the fact that we teachers often have to work with a clientele that doesn’t want to work with us, or with helicopter parents who have no problems telling you how you should be teaching and grading their son or daughter differently.  Oh, I almost forgot the marking, calls home, attendance and late slips, coaching, and after-school time for extra-help and make-up assignments.

I’m getting stressed just writing this.

Enter the Sanity Savers …

So, to help make this coming teaching year a better one, I’d like to share with you 5 Sanity Savers that have helped me make teaching more fun, less stressful, and even less work over the past 12 years. These aren’t your usual ‘teaching tips‘ that you’ll find on any old website. I’ve gone to great lengths to ensure that each one is high-quality, easy to execute, stress-reducing, and exciting!

I’ll be posting one “Sanity Saver” every Thursday morning for the next 5 weeks, starting this week. This will give you a week’s time to think about and practice each one, making it more meaningful.

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On Wisdom and Creativity

Monday, August 31st, 2009

Last week, at the first-ever Civic Mirror Summer Institute in Edmonds, WA, I spoke to the group several times about how truly crazy it is that I’ve spent the last 8 years developing The Civic Mirror and now Action-Ed. I mean, when all of the emphasis in education over the last ten years has been on assessment methods and curricular standardization, I’ve totally done the opposite and invested everything into an experiential, growth-oriented, game-based educational initiative.

But (I continued to explain) there was always something deep down that told me it was the right thing to do. It was real teaching. It brought out the inner-life in my otherwise sedated students. It got them out of their seats and talking about life and the world and how they want it to be.  It was the reason I put “wisdom” at the center of Action-Ed’s philosophy.

And so I want to share an inspiring passage from the best book I’ve read in a long time. It’s taken from Brenda Ueland’s If You Want to Write (page 144). It reminds me of why I got into the business of teaching in the first place, and what “real teaching” and “real learning” truly is. I hope you find it a pleasant contrast to all the standards and benchmarks and assessment methods we’re all worrying about right before this new school year begins:

“Or should I put it this way: van Gogh and Chekhov and all great people have known inwardly that they were something. They have had a passionate conviction of their importance, of the life, the fire, the god in them. But they were never sure that others would necessarily see it in them, or that recognition would ever come.

But this is the point: everybody in the world has the same conviction of inner importance, fire, of the god within. The tragedy is that either they stifle their fire by not believing in it and using it; or they try to prove to the world and themselves that they have it, not inwardly and greatly, but externally and egotistically, by some second-rate thing like money or power or more publicity.

Therefore all should work. First because it is impossible that you have no creative gift. Second: the only way to make it live and increase is to use it. Third: you cannot be sure that it is not a great gift.”

Slug Students and Positive Shock and Awe

Monday, April 6th, 2009

For some students, absolutely nothing their teachers teach them will ‘get through’ because their self-talk is resistant to learning. I am NOT talking about troubled, abused, incapable students; I’m talking about those ‘slug students’ who just sit there and resist learning because what they say to themselves on a minute-by-minute, second-by-second basis repels it. Their self-talk, for whatever reason, repels new information, new ideas, and new skills … like water off a ducks back. It’s stupid, lame, retarded, boring, who cares, this sucks, whatever, when does class end?

Example
I was in a classroom last week and overheard four female students converse during a work period. Here are some snippets:

“Mr. _____ is so lame. He thinks his subject is so important. It’s so stupid.”

“I have like no idea what they’re talking about in that class. Like I care … (friend says something) … Yeah, all I want is a pass.”

“______ (classmate) thinks he’s so smart. All he does is do homework. I think he’s the only one.”

“I can’t wait to watch ________ (reference to a reality TV show). All they do is fight with each other. It’s hilarious.”

“Are you working this weekend? Oh god, I hate my job. It’s like the lamest job ever … I don’t even do anything.” (friend replies with envious whine-like tone in her voice) “You’re sooo luckeeey you don’t have to do anything.”

How to Deal with Slug Students

How to Deal with Slug Students

When I walked over to this group of girls to see how their work was coming along, their bodies bristled, they stopped talking, and they waited for “teacher” to talk … in the same way we wait in fearful anticipation before a nurse gives us a needle. I spoke. They froze. They numbly nodded their heads when I asked if things were going well. They mumbled a couple of lame excuses as to why they couldn’t show me any of their finished work. They sat their like slugs, complaining about everything, liking nothing, and uninspired to do much of anything.

How do You Deal with Slug Students (or Workers)?
I’ve worked with many students like these ones over the years and, to be honest, they can be the most difficult (if you approach them the wrong way) because on a minute-by-minute basis they are telling themselves over-and-over that everything’s lame and everything sucks. Why would anyone work hard at something if they viewed the world that way? And if that’s the case, what could any teacher do to get them to do anything at all?

It’s easy to get frustrated with these students. It’s easy to write them off as lazy. As slugs. As wet noodles that aren’t worth pushing. Sadly, however, I’ve found that that’s how most people in their lives treat them and they’ve simply learned to respond in kind. But what I’ve found over the years is that what these slug students need – like what they’re really, really craving at a deep psychological level – is for someone to validate them. To put it another way, slug students are often hopeless students.

Positive Shock and Awe
What I’ve found works best is to give slug students a dose of positive shock and awe. They need someone to rattle their self-talk cages. They need someone to pull them aside and say how much potential they see in them. What outstanding qualities they possess. How frustrating it is to sit back and listen to them verbally beat themselves up – and the world – all class long. How their body language (have a look because I guarantee you that your slug students are really, really slouching) sends a message to everyone in their world that they don’t care about much of anything, especially themselves. They need to hear how happy you would be if you saw them taking pride in themselves. How happy you’d be if they found something they liked doing and poured their heart into it … regardless if it had anything to do with your course or not.

Basically, slug students need someone to come along and say, “I care about you, and I hate seeing you not care about you. In fact, in this class, I will not be able to stand by and watch you not care about you.” Slug students need their ongoing self-talk to be disrupted by something and someone totally unexpected.

Let me end with a story.
Seven years ago I was teaching a slug student who struggled with things, and her oral reading was awful. At the start of the course I let her pain through reading three sentences aloud to her classmates before respectfully moving on to the next student. After observing her repel everything we were learning in class and listening to her abuse herself over and over with her own self-talk, I finally pulled her aside and did the above (i.e. positive shock and awe), and encouraged her to read anything … just anything … for 30 minutes at night before going to bed. “Just read something! Steamy romance even,” I pleaded and then said quite seriously, “And I won’t tolerate you beating yourself up in my class any more. No more whatevers, yeah buts, or I’m stupids. Seriously.”

Three months passed and she would tell me from time to time she was finishing books. I continued to encourage her, but I remember being frustrated with her ongoing sluggish behavior in my class … but I didn’t want to be too hard on her either. With two weeks left in class we were reading a passage aloud and I asked her to read for the first time in 4 months. I was absolutely floored with how much she had improved. It was still tough to listen to, but it dawned on me that this slug student really had been reading. She really was trying. Her improvement was huge!

So I stopped her mid-sentence. She flinched. I said to her in front of all the students, “Get on up and stand on top of your desk chair.” I knew she was thinking the worst, but she obliged nonetheless. I explained to the class of students (hamming it up … in kind of an angry tone) that I had NEVER seen a student do what she did. And finally, I asked the class to give her a standing ovation for improving so much in her oral reading. They were a great group of students, we clapped and cheered for 3-5 seconds, and that was the end of it. When it was all said and done, I had maybe invested 20 minutes of time that semester working on that individual student.

Last year I met up with a few students from that class for dinner at the restaurant across the street from my house. She was there, and she was looking great. At a certain point during our two hours of reminiscing, she pulled me aside and said, “You were the only one Mr. Ross. You were the only one who believed in me. Everyone else thought I was stupid. My family, my friends, my boyfriends. You were it. The only one. It changed everything. I don’t know how I can thank you.”

20 minutes of positive shock and awe. Don’t write your slug students off. Validate them. Let them know you care.