Last semester, I was able to work with OSU English Language Arts (and Foreign Language) Student Interns, and was deeply moved by their dedication to their profession and their students. I learned to love my students, and supported their various decisions about their futures: some (less than half) will be teaching in #oklaed next year. Some are making the trek south on I-35 to teach in Texas. Some are returning to school, pursuing degrees in higher education.
They all were more than ready for their internship by a strong foundation in the academics and pedagogy. They will all find success in their lives, and this semester they spent in the classroom will always inform their lives.
I asked my students to share a story (no names) about a student...when we tell these stories, we get to the heart of teaching and learning. I published one story earlier, about a student who turned his life around with the help of coaches and teachers.
Today's story shows the power of a teacher stopping, reaching out to students and families, and building a relationship that will help that student grow.
We are training amazing teachers. Unfortunately, fewer and fewer are staying home to teach our students.
Today one of my students apologized to me.
An apology is a small thing, a simple action, but to a teacher it is one of the rarest and most appreciated things a student can do.
This student is not a bad student (there are no bad students, only challenging ones). He’s not the top of his class. He’s not sought out by many of his peers. He’s kind and intelligent; he’s funny and polite. And he doesn’t understand many of the everyday social interactions you and I find commonplace.
This student deals with autism and epilepsy, and the medical ups and downs that come with that, on a daily basis.
Sometimes he asks me after class why other students laughed when he wasn’t meaning to be funny. While the laughter wasn’t mean-spirited, the confusion and sometimes hurt that it causes breaks my heart. Still, on most days this student greets my lessons with an enthusiasm for learning and willingness to participate.
Last week, this student came to class without his usual enthusiasm for the material. He was late, obviously lethargic and irritable, and he was rude to me when I asked him to pay attention.
I didn’t call attention to his attitude in class, but after on Friday I called his mother to gain insight into his behavior. She told me his medication had been changed yet again in an effort to prevent more seizures, and because of this change, my student was experiencing mood swings and irritability. She thanked me profusely for calling, because her son is seventeen and naturally doesn’t like to share details of his school life with his mother. She said that without my call, she could not give her son’s doctor an accurate report of the effect the new medication had.
Today, one day after that phone call, my student walked into class, strode directly to me, looked me in the eyes, and said with sincerity “Miss B, I’m sorry for being rude to you.” I felt like crying. Because I was grateful for at least one caring parent. Because I could tell that he didn’t understand that his behavior had come off as disrespect. Because he had a bad few days and he couldn’t see past how poorly he felt, and he didn’t feel he could express that feeling to me then.
I thanked him, emphasized that I wasn’t offended, and we moved on. Today I saw the return of his usual disposition, and I hope that the next time he has a bad day, he feels able to confide in me.