It's the end of the school year, and teachers have become reflective....asking questions: did I do enough? Did I contribute? Did I make mistakes? Was I who my students needed this year? What do I need to learn to be a better teacher next year?
This is a piece I wrote several years ago when I was still in the classroom...every student who let me learn his or her story gave me a gift. These young people are now adults, making their way in the world...and they still are part of the teacher I was and the teacher I am.
If you are a teacher, think about your students who have shared their stories with you. If you're one of my students, thank you. Thank you for being mine, for reading with me, for sharing who you are...
“Every student is a story. Some will share their stories; some
won’t.”
I always tell young teachers and interns this when they begin teaching.
I challenge them to create a climate where students feel comfortable sharing
their stories. It makes our relationships more authentic and it makes our
classroom a safe place to learn.
I knew this; but I never thought of the fact we, as teachers,
are stories as well. We bring all our training and professional experiences
into our classroom. We make decisions based on these stories as we add new
episodes every day.
So—my story first. My training includes English Language
Arts, Reading Education, Library Media, Special Education. Thirty-nine years in
the classroom. Three states; seven schools; ten principals. Sixth grade
teacher, high school English teacher, special education teacher, elementary
librarian, reading specialist. I have taught students from every grade in
public education, K-12. In high school, I’ve taught English 1, 2, and 4. I’ve
taught remedial classes and advanced classes. Sounds like I can’t make up my
mind, huh? But, throughout all this, there is a theme, a thread: literacy.
Every day I’ve spent in the classroom as a student or as a
teacher has led me to this moment in my career. My English elective, Reading for
Pleasure, is literally the culmination of all my training and all my
experience. I use everything I’ve been taught, and everything I’ve ever learned, in this class. Every day of my professional life has led me, inexorably, to
this class, to these students, to their stories.
Ben. Last year his special education teacher enrolled him
in my class. Ben, a junior, had spent two-and-a-half years in a remedial
English class; but that class was being dropped from our schedule and he needed more support in reading. A football player and a wrestler, he had a
legitimate chance at a college scholarship if we could improve his 6th
grade reading level. Oh, he fought me. Slept, “forgot” his book, sighed, did
the minimum whenever possible. Then, he began to listen to Sean and Michael
talk about their books and their favorite authors: Hunter Thompson, Chuck
Palanuik, Neil Ellis. He saw, in my room, these cool guys (Sean’s a musician in
a local band, and Michael was a respected football teammate) were passionate about
their books. Ben began to pay attention to these conversations; he began to
pick up books with curiosity. He read instead of napped. He talked to the other
guys about their books and his own. The next semester, he’d pop into my room to
ask about books, to trade out the book he’d borrowed for a new one. He’d tell
me the team was going on a trip and he needed something to read. This year when
he took a reading test, he scored post high school! He’s back this semester in
my class, now being the leader—talking about his books, contributing to the
conversations we have about authors. After Hunter Thompson's suicide, Rolling Stone did a retrospective...Ben brought a copy into class, read, and gave us his opinions on the piece and Thompson's ultimate meaning. Books have made a lasting difference in
his life. And he got that scholarship to play football in college!
Steven is a National Merit Scholar. His analysis skills are
amazing already. What could I add to his story? Well, not just me, but the
author, Chris Crutcher. Steven began to read Crutcher’s books because the author
was coming to our school. Although he prided himself on his reading of challenging classics, he had never read books that reflected the life he was living. He read dead white men. In Crutcher's books, the characters struggled with the same battles he does: being
accepted, being teased, standing up for justice, finding our values as we
mature. Steven was able to read books with characters he recognized. He found a
teacher willing to listen as he mulled over important issues not present in his
rigorous AP curriculum. As he read Staying
Fat for Sarah Burns, he talked about his anger and his need to protect his
vulnerable girlfriend from the thoughtless taunts of others. His story was
enriched by these books.
Jerry, a freshman, spent the first weeks in class starting
book after book, never getting past the first 10 pages. One day, on the floor
before my packed bookshelves, I asked him about the books he’d enjoyed. He
couldn’t remember ever reading and enjoying a book. I asked what books or
magazines his family read at home. His surprised snort was all the answer I
needed: none. He had no model at home of reading. We struggled until we found Born Blue by Han Nolan. He read it; his
logs were full of wonder. He brought me the book and demanded I read it so we
could talk. I did. We did. He invited me to his IEP; because we talked about
books, he believed I was the only teacher who liked him. This semester he’s
back! He has successfully gotten several classmates to read his favorite book.
In less than one school year, Jerry changed from a non-reader to a passionate
advocate of his favorites. He now talks to others and loves to find new books
to share with me and his friends.
Angie told me she hated the book Cut by Patricia McCormick. She hated the main character, a
self-mutilator. She thought the book and the girl was “stupid” and she told me
at every opportunity. She kept reading. Kept complaining. Only later did she
tell me how close this story is to her own experience. She stopped denying her
problem and she found the courage to ask our counselor for help. Angie’s told
me she could never read that book again; but she knows it provided the
motivation to reach out.
Rosa is an exchange student from South
America whose English is not strong yet. She and I searched for
books that would show her life in America, and ones she could
understand. We found light “chick-lit” novels helped her understand the
dynamics of high school drama. She also read Jane Eyre—in Spanish! I so enjoyed our conversations about Jane and
loved seeing her through the eyes of another culture. Rosa was able to reach
out to our culture while retaining her own through her choice of books.
Diane has been forced to read
30 minutes every day for years. She told me she hates to read, hates it, hates
it, hates it. Yet her journals were full of original insights and sensitivity.
She read challenging books for her AP English class, and nothing for pleasure.
She struggled with her AP teacher, with her family, with her books—not chosen
for her own enjoyment. She continued to pour out her soul and her conflicts to
me. I knew A Northern Light by
Jennifer Donnelly, was the right book for her: a young girl, just finishing
high school yearns for her family to understand her love for reading and
writing. She is ready to fly, and no one encourages her. Diane recognized herself and her battles. Those logs brought tears to my eyes.
Sam stopped coming to class last semester—went to work,
instead. He enrolled in my class again this semester and has maintained a good
grade. He told me he wanted to change my opinion of him from last semester.
He’s recognized himself in Nick Hornby’s work. He reads everything by Hunter
Thompson he can find. He has shared himself with me generously this semester,
almost making up for his earlier desertion.
Robert is an English Language Learner, heavy-set and
painfully quiet—shy of his lingering accent. A gifted artist, he couldn’t
picture himself ever reading a whole book. As he talked to his family, he
discovered his uncle enjoyed Harry Potter.
So, what does my quiet ELL boy choose for his first book in my class?? HP #3! He struggled, but he persevered!
His logs were short—not surprising since he still lacked confidence; but his
responses showed a great empathy for Harry’s conflicts, and a desire to play
Quidditch—if it was only a real game! When his English 4 teacher assigned their
senior paper, a study of a British author, Robert was ready—Rowling, of course!
He gave me a copy of his paper as a gift, and he gave me his cover
illustration—a loving portrait of Harry and his friends. Now Robert smiles and
greets me in the halls; now he sees himself as a reader! He and his uncle have
lively conversations about their books!
Sylvia sauntered into class the second week of the
semester—an unwilling addition. Because of our previous friendship, she left
her ever-present attitude at the door but still tried to avoid books. She told me
proudly she’d never finished a book—ever, not ever. She played around, picking up
books clearly inappropriate for her below-level reading. In desperation, I
handed her a book from a series called Bluford—contemporary novels all set in
an inner-city high school. Written by different authors, some focus on the
struggles of young men, some on young women. Sylvia recognized her own California background
and experiences within these books, and began reading. Her body language
changed; her nose was glued to these books. She was
overcome with the sense of accomplishment: she finished a book! A book she
loved! It was heartbreakingly touching to watch her carefully consider the
other books in the series to read next—she’d never had that experience. What to
read next.
I had 300 students this year, and many told me their
stories. Some did not. Conrad, an avid fantasy reader, sits in front of me every
day, reading. He won’t write logs to me; I don’t know his story. He’s fighting.
I hope I have another chance with him. I’m not the person he wants to share
with at this time. Alice and Mike also chose to shut me out. I must
respect their choice and hope to see them again at another stage of their
lives, and of mine.
My background, my training, my experience have all combined
to give me tools to help my students. The librarian knows books and is always
looking for the perfect book for each student. She knows how to sell a book to
kids, and how to match kids with books. The English teacher pushes their responses,
challenges their ideas, supports their attempts. She can also discuss the high
school canon with confidence. The reading specialist knows literacy theory. She recognizes struggling students and can
support their efforts, matching appropriate books with students, suggesting
strategies for success. The special education teacher individualizes for every
student, knowing when to push, when to accept, when to question, when to
praise.
Every moment of my life, from those first months being
nursed by my mother who held me in one hand, and her book in the other, to the college
degrees, to the patchwork teaching experience, has prepared me for this class,
for these students, for this challenge. How very lucky I am to be doing this
work!
How blessed I am students tell me their stories.
