A few years ago, I had a ninth grade class that developed the delightful habit of parading into the classroom to music each day. They'd organize out in the hall, decide on some kind of dance move or marching style, the ringleader would hoist a wireless speaker on his shoulder, and they'd amaze me and make me laugh before the bell even rang. On the last day of the year, I told them I wanted to film their entrance so I could remember it always. So we got a little organized: I knew they were coming, and I sat on a stool waiting, with my phone ready. I pressed the red button, and they made their splendid entrance. We all just glowed with the sheer joy of each other's company and the possibilities presented by our time together. And I was so glad I had captured the whole thing on tape. Til I looked down at my phone. And realized I had pressed the red button for a photo rather than a video and captured nothing but a picture of the open door of my classroom. As I was figuring out my mistake, I slid over to video and somehow started recording, so what I now have on tape is my wail of distress, a garbled explanation of what I'd just done, an agitated video of that now-empty open door as I threw my arms up in dismay, and then an image of the ceiling of my classroom, taken from where I lay ON THE FLOOR after I FELL OFF the stool, wailing. We eventually restaged the whole thing, but the recorded memory of our chaotic fun 100% captures the delightful energy of our time together.
That's even better in some ways! and the ritual of them literally escorting joy into your room daily brings a tear to my eye—such an amazing thing. Thank you for sharing :) That's incredible!
There are so many teachers that are so focused on being taken seriously that they lose the fact that teaching is fun. Teenagers are ridiculous and can be very frustrating, but they're also fun and, at times, truly funny. I have found that my best classes are the ones that I don't take as seriously, the ones where my priority is building community and safety versus plowing through content. Not that the content doesn't happen, but it's not the most important thing. I have had so many coworkers with detailed lesson plans and calendars who freak out when they fall behind. Meanwhile I don't really care, we get through what we get through. Don't get me wrong, my standards and objectives are on the board, I have lesson plans and a calendar, but it's all flexible, it has to be.
"Community and Safety" is the key phrase here, I think, as those are the seeds of investment that feel dormant early in the year but you have to have faith in, right? Because then moments like this happen 4-5 months later, and you remember back to those early weeks of seed-planting as far as community and culture.
I do very much believe in the both-and of culture along with high-quality content, but so often that balance feels askew—and I think the gravitational forces at this point in the year definitely lean towards content and away from the community students need most right now!
I love the word "opening" here in your comment :) almost like tipping over a domino for so many others to fall forward into more joy, individual and collective!
A few years ago, I had a ninth grade class that developed the delightful habit of parading into the classroom to music each day. They'd organize out in the hall, decide on some kind of dance move or marching style, the ringleader would hoist a wireless speaker on his shoulder, and they'd amaze me and make me laugh before the bell even rang. On the last day of the year, I told them I wanted to film their entrance so I could remember it always. So we got a little organized: I knew they were coming, and I sat on a stool waiting, with my phone ready. I pressed the red button, and they made their splendid entrance. We all just glowed with the sheer joy of each other's company and the possibilities presented by our time together. And I was so glad I had captured the whole thing on tape. Til I looked down at my phone. And realized I had pressed the red button for a photo rather than a video and captured nothing but a picture of the open door of my classroom. As I was figuring out my mistake, I slid over to video and somehow started recording, so what I now have on tape is my wail of distress, a garbled explanation of what I'd just done, an agitated video of that now-empty open door as I threw my arms up in dismay, and then an image of the ceiling of my classroom, taken from where I lay ON THE FLOOR after I FELL OFF the stool, wailing. We eventually restaged the whole thing, but the recorded memory of our chaotic fun 100% captures the delightful energy of our time together.
That's even better in some ways! and the ritual of them literally escorting joy into your room daily brings a tear to my eye—such an amazing thing. Thank you for sharing :) That's incredible!
There are so many teachers that are so focused on being taken seriously that they lose the fact that teaching is fun. Teenagers are ridiculous and can be very frustrating, but they're also fun and, at times, truly funny. I have found that my best classes are the ones that I don't take as seriously, the ones where my priority is building community and safety versus plowing through content. Not that the content doesn't happen, but it's not the most important thing. I have had so many coworkers with detailed lesson plans and calendars who freak out when they fall behind. Meanwhile I don't really care, we get through what we get through. Don't get me wrong, my standards and objectives are on the board, I have lesson plans and a calendar, but it's all flexible, it has to be.
"Community and Safety" is the key phrase here, I think, as those are the seeds of investment that feel dormant early in the year but you have to have faith in, right? Because then moments like this happen 4-5 months later, and you remember back to those early weeks of seed-planting as far as community and culture.
I do very much believe in the both-and of culture along with high-quality content, but so often that balance feels askew—and I think the gravitational forces at this point in the year definitely lean towards content and away from the community students need most right now!
Appreciate the thoughtfulness of your comment :)
I love this story so much. Laughing at our own foolishness can become such a lovely opening for authenticity and joy!
I love the word "opening" here in your comment :) almost like tipping over a domino for so many others to fall forward into more joy, individual and collective!
Isn’t it true!? Kids wait to see if it’s okay to smile, to laugh, to breathe in our classrooms. What a relief when they find out they can :-)