Action-Ed’s “Making Education Meaningful” Blog

Psychology tells us that we’re pretty good at sizing things up in the first few seconds. I’m sharing this because it has serious implications for school teachers.

We can learn a lot about someone in just 30 seconds; even more in 5 minutes; and after an hour we pretty much know how to act/react around someone. We know what things to say and not say, what things to do and not do.

One of the most difficult things about being a school teacher is learning how to stand up for yourself and the rules you believe in. In the social world we don’t “administer” consequences to our friends when they arrive late, forget to bring something, talk out of turn, or say something off-base. We might get mad at them, we might say something to them, we might stop being friends with them, but we don’t administer the kinds of consequences teachers have to administer when someone in their class breaks the rules. It’s entirely different.

When rules come before feelings and relationships – like in teaching – how we interact with people changes. And this requires us to change. And this change is one of the toughest lessons teachers have to learn. But it is vitally important.

If you start off as their best friend, they’ll treat you like a peer. They’ll love you at first and then laugh at you when you try to get serious … when you try to “pull rank.”

If you start off like a bully, they won’t like you … but they’ll never tell you they don’t like you, because they fear you … and then your students won’t learn anything.

If you start off timid, they’ll jump all over you. You might be able to regain control, but it will be difficult, and you’ll never get a second chance at making that first impression … which will linger despite your recovery.

Not Taking a Stand

If you never take a stand, they won’t know where you stand. They’ll likely walk all over you and what you believe in because … by not taking a stand … you let them.

But if you take a stand, right at the beginning, articulating your rules, your boundaries, and your expectations, which have to include, either implicitly or explicitly, that above all else everyone is to be respected and listened to – a rule all of us want and know is right – and you show them that you’re not afraid to administer consequences to those who violate the rules … When you show them this, when you take this stand in the first 30 seconds, 5 minutes, and hour of your time with them, they will know where they stand in relation to you.

And they’ll like it. They’ll respect you more for it. For setting boundaries. For letting them know where they stand in relation to you.

When respect is present, it holds steady because people gravitate towards it. They know it’s right.

But be careful: Disrespect can spread like wild fire. And if you don’t take a stand … well … you’re letting the winds of chance dictate what becomes of your classroom learning environment.

So take a stand.

Hey educators, guess what. What you teach in your classroom won’t matter if there’s no respect.

Let me explain with a story.

If I had to describe my 9th grade math class in a word, it would be ‘scary.’  Every class I was afraid. For starters I was afraid of my teacher. He looked scary, he talked scary, and he often made fun of students who couldn’t produce the correct answer. I’m sure he thought he was being funny.  But I was 14 and he scared the heck out of me. I also dreaded the humiliations and punishments that 4 or 5 students in that class inflicted on the rest of us. Getting drilled in the arm when our teacher wasn’t looking. Pen jabs in the back of the head. Kicks in the shin. Desk weggies. Being called names that I probably shouldn’t repeat here. You know, typical 9th Grade stuff.  And these kids never got in trouble. They weren’t bad kids. If anything, it was developmentally appropriate. But they knew they could get away with it. So they did it. And I dreaded it. When I looked at my Math 9 textbook at home, I only thought about the next class … with fear!

And how much did I learn in that class? Like how much did I really learn?  Zilch.  Nada.  Nothing.

Sure hormones got in the way. Sure a class full of imaginary audiences got in the way. And sure I wasn’t the best at math to begin with. But it’s true, I learned next to nothing in 9th grade math.  But that experience made me a better educator. Why?  Simple:

Respect first, learn second.

Let me explain.  When we perceive a threat, our brains get hijacked by our fight or flight response. Our brains – specifically our amygdala’s – pump adrenaline and other hormones throughout our bodies. We sense the threat, and our brains optimize our bodies for a fight or a flight. Now this is important to understand because the ‘human’ parts of the brain – the parts of our brains that allow us to do human-like things (like learning in schools), are way up in the cloudy-looking part of the brain called the cortex. In fact, there’s a general rule that the closer a part of the brain is to the spinal cord, the more primitive its function is. Breathing, for example, is taken care of by the brain stem (right above the spinal cord). And you can see that the amygdala – our fight or flight center – is way down low with the rest of the primitive brain stuff (for more, click here).

The amygdala is where fear happens ... way down by the primitive brain stem.

For educators, this is important, especially the word “perceived.” In my 9th grade math class, I was never going to die. My teacher wasn’t going to kill me. I knew my classmates would never beat me to a pulp. But each and every day I was afraid nonetheless. I perceived a threat, and my amygdala got me ready to fight back or run away. My cortex was hijacked. I couldn’t learn a thing.

Had my teacher made us feel comfortable, had my teacher insisted that everyone in the room treat one another with respect, had my teacher punished those who were being disrespectful, none of us would have been as afraid as we were. We would have felt safe (or safer), and we may have been a little more able to learn.

Educators must demand respect in their classrooms. They must be willing to come down hard on students who are being disresptful. And they must – more than anything – be respectful themselves. We can all think back on one or two teachers who we learned so much from. Not necessarily the ones who we liked the most, but the ones we learned lots and lots from. And I’m willing to bet that somewhere near the top of that teacher’s rulebook was a “Be Respectful” rule. It may have been explicit. It may have been implicit. But if you learned lots, I’m betting that you felt safe. You felt respected. You felt dignified. Your cortex was operational. And you learned … a lot.