Every year on the first day of school, I ask my students what they need from me as a teacher.
I get a laundry list of answers.
Some of them are heartfelt like: Don't call on me to read in front of the class because I get nervous.
Explain things so that I can understand.
Give me extra help when I need it.
Some of them are ridiculous like: Don't give any homework, and Let us have nap time (these are high school sophomores).
I take some into consideration and others I store in the circular file, but no one ever asks me what I want from them.
I guess they figure that teachers all want the same thing: to see them suffocate under a pile of homework.
Well, I thought about this and I even consulted some colleagues and I came up with five things that I really want from my students.
Consider this an open plea.
1.
I want you to care as much as I do.
I work really hard at providing interesting, relevant content.
I even found a way to relate The Epic of Gilgamesh to Jay-Z's Blueprint 3 album, and that wasn't easy.
So, I would appreciate if you would keep your head off of your desk while I'm teaching.
Don't talk to your friends in the middle of my lesson.
When I tell you to turn to your shoulder partner to discuss what you've just read, I'm not talking about your latest tweet.
And please don't tell me that a story, or book, or lesson is "dumb.
" Tell me that you don't like it, or you don't get it, but don't give it a human quality unless you are demonstrating personification.
2.
I want you to trust that I have your best interest at heart.
I went to school for this.
I paid actual money to get a chance meet you and to try to impart knowledge to you.
As a matter of fact, everyone in the building, from the custodians to the principal, is here for you.
We are all trying to give you the tools that you need so that you can live the best life that you can.
I'm not trying to fail you, although I do have to document that you failed yourself.
And I'm definitely not trying to get you in trouble, but if I witness you getting into trouble, I have to report it.
As a matter of fact, the worse that you do, the more work I have to do.
If you fail a test, I go to a workshop to learn how to become a better test-giver.
You have trouble getting to school on time.
Bam! Now I'm on the Attendance Committee.
I guarantee you that I will do everything that I can because I want you to succeed, not just in my class, but in life.
But education is a two-way street and you have to at least be willing to get in the car.
3.
I want you to come prepared and try your best.
Cell phone? Check.
Makeup? Check.
iPod and headphones.
Check and check.
Literature book? Notebook? Pencil? Ummm...
You would never go to the mall without money or show up for lacrosse without your stick, so why are you showing up to class without your book or your homework? And how much time did you spend preparing for your geometry quiz? As much time as it took to put on your makeup or get the scuff marks off of your new sneakers with a toothbrush? All I'm asking is that you give yourself a fighting chance.
If you show up unequipped and unprepared your grades will definitely reflect your effort or lack thereof.
4.
I want you to listen and follow instructions the first time.
I call it the Charlie Brown Effect.
You remember the teacher from the popular Charles Schultz cartoon.
She was a totally flat character.
Whenever the students interacted with her all you could hear was: Wah wah wah wah wah...
I think that Charles Schultz was on to something.
I truly believe that is what you hear when I talk to you, and that is why I have to repeat myself a thousand times a day.
I'm exhausted.
And while I'm on the subject, don't ask me a question that you can easily find the answer to, like What are we doing today? or What time is it? or even What's this? when I hand you a paper with the directions on it.
Sometimes if you just take the time to look at the board (I write the agenda there every day), or at the clock (I keep the batteries fresh), or at the directions (I typed them myself), you might find the answer right in front of you.
5.
I want you to show a little gratitude.
I once dropped an entire stack of papers when a kid said, Thank you.
That was nice.
That's it.
That's all that I want.
I think that if you give me these five things, or even two of the five things, it could make a difference in both of our days.
I get a laundry list of answers.
Some of them are heartfelt like: Don't call on me to read in front of the class because I get nervous.
Explain things so that I can understand.
Give me extra help when I need it.
Some of them are ridiculous like: Don't give any homework, and Let us have nap time (these are high school sophomores).
I take some into consideration and others I store in the circular file, but no one ever asks me what I want from them.
I guess they figure that teachers all want the same thing: to see them suffocate under a pile of homework.
Well, I thought about this and I even consulted some colleagues and I came up with five things that I really want from my students.
Consider this an open plea.
1.
I want you to care as much as I do.
I work really hard at providing interesting, relevant content.
I even found a way to relate The Epic of Gilgamesh to Jay-Z's Blueprint 3 album, and that wasn't easy.
So, I would appreciate if you would keep your head off of your desk while I'm teaching.
Don't talk to your friends in the middle of my lesson.
When I tell you to turn to your shoulder partner to discuss what you've just read, I'm not talking about your latest tweet.
And please don't tell me that a story, or book, or lesson is "dumb.
" Tell me that you don't like it, or you don't get it, but don't give it a human quality unless you are demonstrating personification.
2.
I want you to trust that I have your best interest at heart.
I went to school for this.
I paid actual money to get a chance meet you and to try to impart knowledge to you.
As a matter of fact, everyone in the building, from the custodians to the principal, is here for you.
We are all trying to give you the tools that you need so that you can live the best life that you can.
I'm not trying to fail you, although I do have to document that you failed yourself.
And I'm definitely not trying to get you in trouble, but if I witness you getting into trouble, I have to report it.
As a matter of fact, the worse that you do, the more work I have to do.
If you fail a test, I go to a workshop to learn how to become a better test-giver.
You have trouble getting to school on time.
Bam! Now I'm on the Attendance Committee.
I guarantee you that I will do everything that I can because I want you to succeed, not just in my class, but in life.
But education is a two-way street and you have to at least be willing to get in the car.
3.
I want you to come prepared and try your best.
Cell phone? Check.
Makeup? Check.
iPod and headphones.
Check and check.
Literature book? Notebook? Pencil? Ummm...
You would never go to the mall without money or show up for lacrosse without your stick, so why are you showing up to class without your book or your homework? And how much time did you spend preparing for your geometry quiz? As much time as it took to put on your makeup or get the scuff marks off of your new sneakers with a toothbrush? All I'm asking is that you give yourself a fighting chance.
If you show up unequipped and unprepared your grades will definitely reflect your effort or lack thereof.
4.
I want you to listen and follow instructions the first time.
I call it the Charlie Brown Effect.
You remember the teacher from the popular Charles Schultz cartoon.
She was a totally flat character.
Whenever the students interacted with her all you could hear was: Wah wah wah wah wah...
I think that Charles Schultz was on to something.
I truly believe that is what you hear when I talk to you, and that is why I have to repeat myself a thousand times a day.
I'm exhausted.
And while I'm on the subject, don't ask me a question that you can easily find the answer to, like What are we doing today? or What time is it? or even What's this? when I hand you a paper with the directions on it.
Sometimes if you just take the time to look at the board (I write the agenda there every day), or at the clock (I keep the batteries fresh), or at the directions (I typed them myself), you might find the answer right in front of you.
5.
I want you to show a little gratitude.
I once dropped an entire stack of papers when a kid said, Thank you.
That was nice.
That's it.
That's all that I want.
I think that if you give me these five things, or even two of the five things, it could make a difference in both of our days.