Sheryl Green: ‘These kids can’t do that’
As you well know, spring has unleashed her madness into the air, stuffing up our noses and blanketing our cars with a sheet of yellow. The budding trees are a beautiful change from the colorless gray of winter, but these watery eyes can barely see the hints of purples and pinks.
I bet if I were a science teacher, I would understand what’s happening in the natural world during this time of year. But I am not, so I wander around the cloud of yellow dust in a daze of confusion.
This wonderment reminds me of a conversation I had this past week with my seniors in British Lit class. I guess the conversation was prompted by my sharing with them a conversation I had recently with another teacher. My colleague said she has an enormously fine filter on the materials she teaches her students because they can’t understand a lot. They can’t do a lot — they won’t do a lot.
I just couldn’t understand how a teacher could say such a thing.
I asked my students, “Do you guys know when a teacher lowers his or her expectations for you?” What I meant was very clear to them. I was asking if students realize when their teachers think they can’t: Can’t read this story because it’s too difficult. Can’t work this math problem because it’s too hard. Can’t handle this experiment because it’s too intricate. Can’t grasp this moment in history because it’s too disconnected from them.
They answered a resounding YES. Then, my seniors fired their rants about moments throughout their 12 years of public education in which they were forced into simplicity because teachers thought they couldn’t. They felt antagonized, ridiculed and offended.
From the pulpit several years ago, my preacher said these words: “Good is the enemy of your best.” He encouraged his congregation to seek out opportunities that challenged us spiritually, physically and mentally, teaching us that settling for second best is simply not our destinies. I learned a valuable lesson during that sermon, a lesson that my kids reiterated in our conversation.
In the world of education, we teachers are faced with countless obstacles to overcome. In the tempest of mandates facing us, we often take the easy route out of desperation and self-preservation, settling for what is good enough to get us and our students by. As far as our expectations for our students are concerned, what a heart-breaking area to skimp.
When we settle for mediocrity in our expectations, we might be protecting ourselves from the gripes and complaints of our classes. We might be sheltering ourselves from the frustrations of failed attempts by our students. But concreting our feet into what is “good enough” leads us down a slippery slope into forever being an average teacher of little to no impact on the children we are charged with preparing for life outside the walls of public school.
My senior British Lit class highlighted that fact to me. They rely on me a lot, a ton. It is difficult to get them to think for themselves and have an original thought, but I almost feel sorry for them because I don’t think it’s their fault. Along the line of their 12 years in public school, seldom have teachers risked a little frustration to challenge them to do so, and they realize this and are offended.
As a profession we have crippled our students by creating for them sub-par standards in our classrooms. As individuals we have saved ourselves the headache that comes with maintaining high expectations, but we sacrifice the focus of what our responsibility is — to mold productive members of society who can think and make decisions.
If my students can recognize what low expectations are and are offended by them, then logically the flipside is true as well. Here’s how I think about it when I’m making my lesson plans and hunting through the literature book for something for my students to read: these kids are going to be voting. These kids are going to be making decisions that will directly affect me. These kids are going to be taking care of me when I am old and gray, or older and grayer. I want and need them to practice giving things their very best shot. I need them to shoot for lofty goals and develop the skills to reach them.
So, my fellow teachers, be encouraged. You might get a little resistance when you present a difficult task for your students to perform, but if you think about it, you could be saving the world — or at least the ease of life during your retirement.
This story was originally published March 22, 2016 at 8:42 PM with the headline "Sheryl Green: ‘These kids can’t do that’."