
Teachers and The Knack
Mamacita says: There is a knack to teaching middle and high school students that some teachers never quite learn. I’m not sure it can be learned; it might be an art, a talent one must have at birth. For want of knowledge of this art’s actual name, I will call it ‘the knack.’
I have seen many teachers fail at the secondary level, because they just simply did not have ‘the knack.’. I have seen a lot of excellent, successful elementary teachers fail at this level, because they did not have ‘the knack.’
It’s easier to do at the upper high school level, because some of those students are more mature than some adults I’ve known. But at the middle school level, and the lower high school levels, it’s harder to do, and even more important to do it.
Once in middle school, students are no longer ‘children.’ Oh, we know they still are, but don’t make the mistake of treating them as you would treat a fifth-grader.
Never talk to older students as you would talk to younger ones.
A teacher can lose an entire group of seventh-graders simply by referring to them as ‘boys and girls.’ I’ve seen entire classes turn against a teacher because he/she used a tone of voice that connoted ‘elementary.’ I’ve seen principals wonder all year why the students disliked him/her so much, and it was all because of a condescending remark made on the first day of school, that the adult doesn’t even remember but every student knows by heart.
Never talk down to older students. Or younger ones either, for that matter.
Put simply, talk to older students as THEY THINK you talk to other adults. And put simply, that’s not simple.
It is possible to talk to an older student about very serious matters, or matters that are actually frivolous but which are important to the student, in a tone of voice that tells the pre-teen or teen that you consider them capable of reasonable judgment, and that you respect what they have to say. Two teachers can say the exact same thing and one of them will succeed while the other antagonizes and infuriates the student.
There is some kind of internal attitude inside each teacher, and the least astute kid in the entire school can pick up on it.
Being a good teacher is hard work, exhausting and nerve-wracking. Loving kids isn’t enough to be a good teacher. Being organized isn’t enough. Being passionate about one’s subject isn’t enough. Being a member of Mensa isn’t enough. Having been an excellent student oneself, isn’t enough. Ditto on having been a poor student. Having kids of your own isn’t enough. Wanting desperately to have kids of your own isn’t enough. Having had an excellent teacher in one’s past isn’t enough. Having had a terrible teacher in one’s past isn’t enough. Being the favorite Aunt or Uncle to tons of nieces and nephews isn’t enough. Combinations of these things aren’t enough.
Oh, those are excellent parts of a teacher’s background, yes. Definitely. But alone or in any combination, they are not enough.
To be able to deal with secondary students, to be able to communicate and earn their respect, a secondary teacher has to have the right kind of internal attitude.
Can’t some of you still instinctively know when someone is sincere? Do you still have that radar detector in your brain that tells you when somebody can be trusted? Pre-teens have this instinct, and it’s sharp and clear and laced with brand-new hormones, a big hunk of ‘fear of the unknown,’ and an intense desire to be accepted.
A good teacher must understand the pack instinct of teens, and be good at intervening, listening, and helping them to realize that it’s not the best way to live. Some cliques at this level can be brutal; a good teacher watches for such things like a hawk and simply does not permit it
in his/her classroom. A good teacher must have shock absorbers in his/her heart, because some of the things older kids will tell them are real zingers. A good teacher knows how to speak the “language: of all the different social groups within the system. (A REALLY dedicated teacher is bilingual.) A good teacher knows how to encourage individuality and creativity, and be able to stand firm when a student or his parents try to buck the system and gain privileges which that student did not personally earn. Other students know when this happens. Word gets out, and it gets out fast.
Good teachers are probably just a tad on the schizo side, because every time the bell rings, they have to shake off one personality and put on another. No two classes are alike, and a good teacher will not try to teach them in the same way. Secondary teachers are doing stand-up, and audiences differ with every gig.
It goes without saying that a good teacher will not compare a student with his/her older brother or sister, even favorably. Each student stands, or falls, on his/her own merit and work habits. Students respect that, even when they try to sway the teacher. They know that some teachers are easily swayed, more’s the pity. (The good teachers aren’t.)
Secondary teachers, the good ones, know how to talk to the students as the students think one adult talks to another. Read that sentence carefully, for it does not say that a good teacher talks to the students as one adult to another.
Some teachers will not agree with me. That’s fine. All I know is, those things worked for me, and for several other teachers that I know.
I’ll add this, too: A good secondary teachers keeps up. He/she knows what the students are reading, and what they’re watching, and what they’re listening to, and who. This is absolutely vital at this level. If you are conversing with a secondary student and that student happens to drop the name of a band and tells you this band is his/her idol and he/she adores them, and you don’t know ahead of time that this band advocates drugs and violence and kinky sex, and that the lead singer has been arrested for DUI and CDM several times, something ignorant such as “Oh, me too, aren’t they awesome?” might be said. And any teacher who doesn’t know ALL about Facebook and texting and pretty much all other aspects of social networking has no business at either the elementary OR secondary level. Check that stuff OUT, because I’ll tell you what, your students sure are. Get on there yourself so you can communicate.
These things have to be done carefully, remember. Don’t make the mistake of trying to ingratiate yourself with students by using their generation’s groovy, out-of-sight, beat-me-daddy-eight-to-the-bar, gnarly vernacular with them. Some words were never meant to come out of the mouths of actual adults. Am I right, peeps?
All of these things, and more, can be done if a teacher has that internal attitude, the right attitude, the one that can’t be detected by anyone except a teenager. Sometimes, other teachers sense something different about a really good teacher, and there are occasional clashes. Age has nothing to do with it; some of the very best teachers are 110 years old if they’re a day, and some of the least savvy ones are 25.
Middle school kids are the greatest; I loved teaching that age level. Teachers who tell you that those grades are a nightmare just didn’t do it right. Such statements are unkind, and untrue.
I am not, of course, referring to NASTY SPOILED BRATS WHO HAVE NEVER BEEN REQUIRED TO BEHAVE PROPERLY IN PUBLIC, but that is their parents’ responsibility and fault. They should arrive at school already knowing how to behave. But I’ve ranted about that too much already. . . . .
Good parents always go to parent-teacher conferences, of course. While you are there, see if you can dredge up some of that adolescent attitude detection you used to have. Check out your kids’ teachers.
I’m not saying to sniff them all over like a dog, but wouldn’t it be cool if we could? Heh.
At any age, we could all use (to paraphrase Hemingway) a good, built-in shock-proof shit detector. Our students need it for us, and we need it for them.
Shhh, I Hear Freedom Ringing!
Mamacita says: Happy Independence Day. And if you do not believe in that, then, Happy Fourth of July.
Everyone has a fourth of July. It’s right there between the third and the fifth, so none of your lip now. . . .
I was looking at all the black burn marks on the deck today and wishing the kids were still little and out there making more. Our deck is covered with many years’ worth of black burned Fourth of July spots. Isn’t everybody’s?
Please tell me your deck is covered with black spots too? From bottle rockets and snakes and all kinds of fun noisy things?
Well, mine is, and I love the memories.
I’m afraid to ask about your sidewalk, because, well, mine has a lot of black spots on it from those “snakes” the kids used to burn when they were little. I like the spots, because they make me remember those giggling little kids, watching the coiling black snakes with big laughing eyes. The kids, not the snakes.
I’d rather have the spots, and the memories, than a life full of pristine “things.”
Have a wonderful holiday, everyone. Please be safe, and happy. Don’t step on the hot sparkler wires on the ground. Watch out for the tiny kids; sometimes they bite and keep them out of harm’s way.
I love you all. Happy Independence Day!
Shhh, listen! Do you hear freedom ringing? I do.
Let’s all work hard to keep it so. Let’s not wait until we’re at the funeral home and it’s too late to say “I love you” to someone until another horrendous crisis to rally together and love our country in public.
P.S. Loud pops, bangs, smoke, and cool colors aren’t necessarily dangerous. Here are some great ways your kids (and you – who are we kidding?) can have a great time making loud noises and playing with smoke and cool stuff! You’re welcome.

Potty Mouth, Wiggly Little Boys, Recess, and Reading
“No two people are alike, and both of them are damn glad of it.”
Mamacita says: That’s a quotation; that’s not me saying “damn,” although I frequently occasionally do. I am, to my shame, greatly afflicted with “potty mouth,” and although I managed to control it somewhat while my children were tiny, it’s back, in full force. Honestly? I need help.
But I digress. No two people are alike, but both of them are expected to progress at the same rate by our public schools.
Our children are expected to learn to read and write by a certain age lest they be labeled “special education” and given an IEP and pulled from the classroom to be tutored in the Reading Room. Most of them are little boys.
Old hippies like me sometimes have a hard time admitting that there really are gender differences that no amount of “environment” is going to change. One of those differences is this: a lot of little boys need a few more years than a lot of little girls need, to mature enough so that their bodies and brains can sit still, together, long enough to learn how to read and write. Whether we like it or not, it is a fact that while a lot of little girls are reading “Gone with the Wind,” the little boys sitting next to them are still struggling to recognize letter combinations. It is also a fact that some of these little boys who still can’t do it in the third grade, or the fourth, somehow have their own “epiphany” in the middle grades; something in their brain becomes aware of symbols and their meanings and how to translate them to Harry Potter. It wasn’t that these little boys didn’t TRY down in the lower grades; it was that their bodies and brains weren’t THERE yet.
I saw this miracle happen over and over again. With my own eyes I saw it. Sometimes, when I tried to tell other teachers, especially elementary teachers, about this awakening, they did not believe me. “I had that boy in third grade and I’m telling you, Jane, that he just doesn’t have what it takes to be a reader, a good student. He just can’t do it.”
And I’m telling you, Madeline, that I don’t give a rat’s ass* what the child did in your class. I am trying to tell you that in my class, the boy can read. One week he couldn’t, and the next week, he could. And he’s ecstatic.
My point? Do I have to have one? I guess I could drag one in by the hind legs if you must have a point. How about this one:
Hold off on the IEP’s and the labeling until the kid is in middle school. Tutor, yes. Give special help, yes. Hang a label on his forehead and put it in his permanent record? Not so fast there, Teach. Don’t do it Not yet. Not just for reading. Save the labeling for the children who genuinely need the help; don’t fill up the room with little boys who just need a few more years to mature.
Same-sex classrooms in the lower grades? Why not? It might work. It would certainly be better for the little girls who, most of them, just naturally catch on to the reading faster; they could move on! It would be better for the little boys, too; they wouldn’t feel pressured and might get comfortable enough to relax and blossom, too.
Many of our most highly esteemed scientists, inventors, etc, were late bloomers. Edison wasn’t even allowed to continue at his school; he was so slow, he held the others back!
Let’s give our little boys a break, what say, people?
And by the way, taking away a child’s recess because he couldn’t finish his vocabulary words quickly is cruel and unusual punishment. I suppose the boy would then be punished because he was extra wiggly since his ‘outlet’ was taken from him? Energetic little children NEED to be let loose on the playground several times a day!!! Taking away recesses for punishment or to make more room for standardized test review is the action of a halfwit who knows nothing about either education OR children and probably hasn’t been in a classroom since 1972 teacher, politician, superintendent, or some other administrator who falls into the ‘nimrod’ category of typical la la land unawareness of real people and how we live. Probably people who do that don’t know how to access their email, either, or use a computer. But then, that’s what secretaries are for.
I put up with this for 26 years. No wonder I had a potty mouth.
And by the way, this guv’ment standard of requiring our tiny first and second graders to sit still for NINETY MINUTES and read without interruption is ignorance in action on the part of whoever thought that one up. Tell me, Mr. Standards: Can YOU sit absolutely still for ninety minutes and read without interruption? I thought not.
*Dammit **, there I go again.
** Crap.