On my very first day of teaching EVER, I invited my students into the classroom and instructed them to write on the board in response to three prompts:
- What are your expectations of me as your teacher?
- What are your expectations of each other as classmates?
- What are your expectations of yourself this year in my class?
After about five minutes I had everyone sit down, and we reviewed their responses as a class. These would become our social contract for the year.
In each of my six class periods, I was largely pleased with their responses. Some students wrote a teacher expectation of “no homework” and the like, but for the most part, I saw phrases like “be patient with us” and “be kind, not mean”. Against such things there is no law.
However, in second period when I asked, “Is there anything else anyone wants to add that they may not have written up on the board?”, a large, dark-haired boy in the front row raised his hand.
“Yes…” I checked my seating chart, “…Art?”
His brows drew together angrily. “One of my expectations of you as our teacher is that you get kids out of here who don’t deserve to be in this class.”
The previously silent classroom seemed to get even quieter. Perhaps I had heard wrong. “Excuse me, what?”
He repeated himself. “Like those two.” He pointed down the row at two smaller boys, Ernie and Kevin. “They’re not smart enough to be in Pre-AP, but their parents put them in here anyway. You should kick them out of your advanced math class or they’ll hold back the whole class.”
Stunned, it was purely by the grace of God that I managed a reasonable response. “Well, Art, that leads us nicely into our next topic, which is ‘Expectations of Each Other as Classmates’. You’ll see all over this board words like ‘kind’ and ‘respectful’.” I looked pointedly at him. “So we’re not going to have any more comments like that in my classroom. Is that understood?”
Art stayed behind after class. He told me again his concerns. Totally flabbergasted at his blatant arrogance and prejudice, I suggested, “You know, Art, I’m happy to have you come alongside me as the teacher and help tutor some of these other students if they need to be brought up to speed. Instead of tearing down our classmates, let’s work together to build them up, okay?”
Art laughed – a hardened, angry laugh. “They’re beyond help.” And he walked out of my room.
Yesterday I gave my first test of the year, and I marveled as I graded the papers from second period. The high-and-mighty Art only got 20% right. And little Ernie got an 80%.
Pride goes before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall. -Proverbs 16:18
Authentically Aurora
I don’t write because I think that the world revolves around me or that everyone else should be enamored with the daily dramas of my life. In fact, I barely have any followers – less than 50 – and most of them don’t even know my real identity.
Authentically Aurora 