Moving from sixth grade to eighth grade this year was a leap, not just in curricular expectations or unit topics, but also in dealing with personalities. Three students in particular challenged me and made me continuously question how and why I was teaching the way I was. Because of their challenges, I grew as a teacher.
Y- was a little boy in a big boy’s body. Although he was as tall as the other boys, taller than many, and was one of the first in the grade to have an official girlfriend, he was only twelve years old until November, making him the youngest boy in the grade. He acted his age in small but important ways in the classroom: continuously poking his neighbors, especially if they were girls; unable to concentrate for longer than ten minutes—standardized tests were a torture and he would rock or sit on his knees and sigh; he had very little reading stamina, hating each story or book he was given because it took a little effort to get past the beginning. In class, he put his head down on the table. When asked to take notes or to write a reflection, he scrawled a few illegible words. He was simply unengaged. But he craved attention, and he reached out from his world to mine. “Mrs. Pohl, have you seen….?” “Mrs. Pohl, is this right?” “Mrs. Pohl, how do I…?” A huge movie buff, he frequently asked me if I’d seen the most recent movie, or one that connected to what we were discussing. He asked my favorite actor, or musician, or song. He was quick with verbal snipes back to my remarks. And when it was the last day of school and he asked, “Can we go?” I said, “Yes, but you have to hug me first.” He gave me the biggest, tightest hug of anyone. Y- taught me that the curriculum is not going to connect to every kid, no matter the games or role-plays, the choices or multiple intelligences opportunities. But I had better find a way to connect with every single kid even if their behavior is off-putting or negative, because they still want to be loved by their teachers. That will make a difference in a kid’s life.
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