Teacher: A Picture of Success
Do you remember the process of learning how to read and write? It’s been so long that it seems I’ve just always been able to do these skills. I can’t imagine not being able to read or write, and I certainly can’t remember learning how to do them.
On occasion, when I get desperately struggling readers in my high school class, I am stunned that skill isn’t coming natural to them. To be perfectly honest, I begin to panic, for I am unsure how to teach a child to read. And since writing comes a bit easy to me, when a junior in high school enters my classroom without the ability to write a complete sentence, I become frantic. This set of instructional tools are not in my toolbox.
We could speak all day about the why’s and how’s these fundamental skills are lacking in some children, but that’s not what this column is about. This is about the amazing abilities elementary school teachers possess to teach our kids two of the most important skills required to become operational and successful in today’s society — the ability to read and write. I simply am dumbfounded at how they do it. But this column isn’t really about them. It’s about a little third grader I’m going to call Max. It’s about how a struggling child in literacy gains strength from his teacher.
Max is a third grader at Key Elementary. He’s a member of a special class for students who face some additional challenges to their learning, and his fearless leader is Mr. Roderick Williams. The assignment was simple: write four sentences about success and what it would take to reach that goal. Seems simple, and to us, it is. But to the children in Mr. Williams’s class, the task was seemingly impossible.
“You need four periods,” Mr. Williams reminded his students of the length requirement, and many of his kids were making their way to completion of the task at their own speeds. But little Max was especially struggling. The blank piece of paper looming before him was more than intimidating, it was a trigger for noticeable anxiety.
My friends, this is when a teacher becomes a superhero. This is the precise moment when our teachers thrive and soar and become our community’s most important commodity. Because there’s a certain knack teachers have to draw even the unthinkable creativity out of our kids, to conjure up original thoughts never thought possible, and to spark a fire of possibility in the hearts and minds of our youngest who exist in a world of “I can’t”. As I so often say, that’s what teachers do.
To the rescue of Max, the prompting questions began: “Max, what does success look like to you?” His answer offered not a lot to work with. “Ok, what do you want to be when you grow up, Max?” And that was it. That is what broke Max’s writer’s block. “A teacher,” Max responded. “Great!” his teacher exclaimed. “What kind of teacher?”
Max enthusiastically responded, “A teacher like you, Mr. Williams.”
And so the writing began to flow.
So, this column isn’t about what’s lacking in our kids. It isn’t about the negativity we so often hear in the media surrounding public education. It’s never been about these things. It’s about a little boy named Max and his adoration for his teacher. It’s about how to many of our youngest citizens, a teacher is the picture of success.
I’m not sure about you, but for this middle aged member of this great city, I agree with Max.
Sheryl Green is a secondary educator in Columbus. To correspond with Sheryl, please email her at sherylgreen14@yahoo.com.
This story was originally published October 9, 2018 at 12:50 PM.