"to teach": what I think I've learned thus far
10 lessons from 10 years in the classroom
Marcus here! With a wee bit left of my summer still remaining—and while Jim forges into the tidal surge of the first weeks of his school year—I wanted to make sure that I refined and compiled some reflections I had been considering this summer into a tidy list: 10 different lessons from my first 10 years in the classroom.
Before I delve into this list, though, I do want to underscore perhaps the deepest of convictions: this was my first decade in the classroom but I have no intention of it being my final.
I entered teaching not sure of where I would be a decade in, but I am quite excited at the prospect of sitting down and typing (if we’re still “typing” at that point!) a decade from now, reconciling these ten current lessons with ten more in the year 2032.
And, more than likely, myriad more lessons…
Without further ado, though, the ten things (I think?) I’ve learned in my first decade of teaching:
#1 — Your classroom is your calling card, like it not, context be damned. Don’t pretend otherwise.
Yes, so much of what happens in the classroom is affected by what takes place beyond it. Having worked in several schools with quite-varied contexts, I am the first to admit that.
However, sometimes I think pragmatism gets neglected a tad much in our tendency towards idealism in education, and there’s nothing more pragmatic than being clear-eyed about the fact that, as a teacher, you will be viewed largely by how people perceive your classroom—especially in terms of how students experience that space.
Do students feel cared about and supported in your room?
Are students learning and do they understand the purpose of that learning?
Is there an inclusive community of respect and joy within your space?
These standards aren’t always fair to hold yourself accountable to given the many contexts beyond the room, but there are many unfair things in education (that can be Lesson #11, I guess?).
So doing what you need to do in order to make your classroom a positive, productive space for students has to be a top priority. Which leads to #2…
#2 — A fence has two sides—and so does a classroom wall. Don’t forget that.
Yes, I wrote on this in my previous post, but it is worth reiterating: don’t let your focus on your classroom keep you from building the relationships you need beyond its walls.
“Close the door and make your classroom good” comes from a well-intended place (see #1 lesson, right?) but it also can be its own trapdoor. Time invested learning more about your colleagues and co-workers, creating authentic relationships with the community, and simply acknowledging that your classroom is just one space of many spaces for all of your students—and you, too!
Speaking of that classroom space…
#3 — Your students rarely chose to be in your classroom. But you did.
While I will be the first to advocate for supporting the teaching profession (especially in this current moment), I don’t ever want that advocacy to confuse the irrevocable fact that no one was forced to become a classroom teacher.
It was a choice.
And it is not only a choice at the onset of one’s teaching career, but rather an annual choice to recommit and re-enter the classroom the year after. If nothing else, it is important to never lose sight of that power dynamic: that you as a teacher have agency in being in the space you are in whereas your students rarely do.
Be clear-eyed about that, even when it is tempting to look past it.
(and, I’ll add, continually reflect on your own why—why did you enter the room, and why did you choose to stay there? I have examples of my own mind-mapped reflections in the image above, but FutureMe also is a great place for this!)
#4 — Never stop learning. And never stop thinking of yourself as a learner.
With some of the additional time I had when COVID initially hit back in the Spring of 2020, I signed up for an online course on Modern and Contemporary American Poetry—and fully stepped back into the “student perspective” for several months. It was enthralling, and a reminder of just how much joy I could find in simply being a learner for the sake of learning.
There is a tendency, I think, once one enters the classroom, to neglect that “learner identity,” though. Teaching too often takes far too much time, after all, and any remaining time is often needed for restoration by stepping away from anything related to it.
Still, I have found immense value in recent years in prioritizing my own learning, especially during the summer months when I have a bit more distance from the day-to-day of the classroom. (This summer this consisted in part in a two-week journey through James Joyce’s Ulysses and the many supplementary readings this text requires!)
And then of course that learning itself has trickled into my own teaching, not only in terms of actual content but also as far as an enthusiastic mindset. In consistently rediscovering my own joy as a learner, I believe it makes me that much more purposeful of a facilitator of learners in the classroom space.
#5 — There’s a lot you don’t know as a teacher, no matter your experience. Don’t be intimidated by what you don’t know—but don’t be ignorant of it, either.
An added benefit of the “learner” identity: resisting the fixed mindset that experience tends to tempt us with in education. Having been blogging about my teaching experience since Year One (here’s a piece that I return to often from Year Three, for example), it is easy to recognize just how much has changed in my perspective since those initial years—with the automatic reminder that everything I believe right now likely will also shift (at least somewhat) going forward!
The work of a teacher demands humility—not to paralyze us from conviction and purpose, but rather to afford the mindset necessary to continue seeking new ideas, re-examining current practices and strategies, and always being open to feedback from different stakeholders but especially the students in our room.
And yes, this also means acknowledging as much.
Admitting “I don’t know” isn’t easy as a teacher, standing in a position of presumed authority, but is that much more powerful because of that context.
(an additional note: this is also quite helpful as a mindset when you find yourself questioning decisions made above you at the administrative level or higher. There are just simply things you aren’t privy to as a teacher that others above you are—including legal policies/requirements!—and having the humility to consider your blind spots before speaking your mind too aggressively is a wise hesitation, in my experience!)
#6 — Transparency is the harder path but the better one, too. Much better than the alternative.
Way back in my fifth year of teaching (when the hair line hadn’t receded quite as far), I created something that at the time felt rather novel: a “classroom blog” where I would upload all our course materials—unit plans, course texts, standards—along with a weekly overview of our learning sequence. This was made available not only for students but also their families, and it quickly became a staple of my own practice (in case you want proof, I went back and looked and the blog still exists, haha!).
And then COVID happened and, at my current school, “Canvas” happened, and everyone was expected to do essentially this: upload the entire learning sequence, just as I had been scrappily doing for some time, onto an online platform for everyone to see.
This was hard for many reasons for many teachers, but I think one pattern that emerged was the feeling of discomfort many teachers felt at having their entire work—including Zoom teaching!—online for anyone to access, essentially, or at least to record/share with others. And in the current climate this makes a lot of sense, as teachers are being antagonized and attacked in many cases for just doing their job.
Yet what I’ve realized about why I like 100% transparency about my teaching, both with students as well as families:
It is a great way to build in authentic accountability for myself as a teacher—not only in terms of the what but in how it is communicated out, which I’ve found makes me better in my planning and preparation across the board.
Often the feedback you get is helpful! Students are quick to point out confusions or corrections, and the sharing process is a great way to build trust with students and families alike by inviting them into the process.
Finally, it is a way to get ahead of hypothetical criticism and pushback because you have already been transparent on the front end. This is far better than not being transparent initially and having to provide this information after a situation arises, I’ve found, and is a great way to be proactive as well as professional.
#7 — Your values should be expressed as clearly as possible (i.e. core beliefs)—so that those values can ultimately hold you as a teacher accountable to the choices you make and especially the way you spend time in class
I’ve spent ample time talking about and writing about how I’ve shifted from just identifying values in our classroom to leaning into core beliefs that lay out what is meant by each value, so I will just reference some of that previous writing here as well as our opening activity around this here.
Bringing values-centered language and lenses into the classroom has been transformational for me, overall, but it also has had an added benefit: another mechanism to hold myself accountable to my students, particularly in how I use time in my classroom. In our classroom, these core beliefs are on every single desk, too (see image above of our desk decal for this year), and students regularly provide feedback on our classroom community in alignment to these beliefs.
An additional example of how this has shifted my practice: many years I talked about valuing self-reflection from students, but I rarely created consistent time around that. Last year, though, in looking at the core beliefs of our room and my own planning, I made the shift to structure in consistent self-reflection space into our learning environment—and in doing so I aligned how time was spent in our room with the core beliefs we were aspiring to. (And if you’re curious about what that looked like, here you go!)
#8 — Things to be pessimistic about are more visible than things to be optimistic about, especially in education.
Of the many wisdoms Kevin Kelly has been willing to share, this is the one that I’ve clung to the most: negatives are visible than positives in our life.
I think this is especially true from the vantage point of a teacher in education. You can have a class period that goes relatively-smooth with many positive interactions, but all it takes is one less-than-stellar interaction with one student (sometimes just for one moment!) and that is what you’ll latch onto.
Not that you should ignore that reflective opportunity from a challenging situation, but I’ve learned to try and keep it relative to scale. Why not also celebrate the many other successful (if less visible) moments in the classroom, too, alongside it?
Toxic positivity is one thing, but then there’s being unwilling to see the many good things that are around you every single day as a teacher. Be aware of that tendency, and act accordingly.
#9 — Do the work to see and affirm the best in those around you—and not just students. (And don’t forget to include yourself in this, too)
Don’t just pay lip service to the idea of positivity, either—build in practices, structures, and systems that help you make it a regular part of your daily experience.
Yes, you want to incorporate this into your classroom culture with what you build within the room (see this lesson here of what that can look like!), but it also should manifest itself in your own practices as a teacher.
For example, I’m going into this year with a modified student roster (see image above) that includes a listing of each student’s personal top value (from the activity hyperlinked in #7) as well as a strength I’ve recognized in that student over the first quarter of the year. By establishing a system rather than just naming a goal, I’ve tried to build it into daily practice for myself—which I’ve found makes a considerable difference as far as success in following through!
#10 — Hold yourself accountable while being kind to yourself.
More than anything, though, I return again and again to a central paradox to being a teacher: this work is incredibly challenging but also incredibly important. So be kind to yourself in considering those challenges, but also hold yourself accountable when considering the importance this work has for students.
That’s quite a balance, too! Life on a perpetual teeter-totter is its own challenge, after all, and sometimes you’ll need to lean more intentionally to one side or the other, depending on the day.
But here’s what I’ll add and how I’ll conclude:
never let “being kind to yourself” become an excuse not to take seriously the importance of this work and its ramifications on the lives of students. (Don’t forget Lesson #3—you chose to be in here.)
never let “holding yourself accountable” prevent you from seeing your own strengths and value as a person, and taking care of yourself as a person first and foremost—as you being your best self makes for the best possible classroom.
Do these two points contradict quite often? Yep, and therein lies the paradox.
And the work.
