classroom notes #9: learning as a teacher

What is worse? Feeling angry at someone or being disappointed in them?

That's a lesson my kids experienced today...

When a teacher is angry, she may yell, shout, scold, punish, assign stacks of penmanship or other repetitive unwanted tasks.

When a teacher is angry, she may look frazzled like a monster with static-y hair.

When a teacher is angry, you can almost see the steam coming out of her ears, and the furrows between the brows is like a mask that is slipped on over her normally cheerful demeanour.

When a teacher is angry, you don't take it seriously because the teacher still cares to push you to finish your work and still cares to make you work harder, as hard as you are capable and then even more.

But.

When a teacher is disappointed, it's as if a dark gloomy cloud has settled over the classroom.

When a teacher is disappointed, there is only silence, that can't be stirred back up and you start wishing for the teacher to yell, shout, scold, punish, and assign stacks of penmanship or other repetitive unwanted tasks.

When a teacher is disappointed, you feel lost since anger is something easier understood.

When a teacher is disappointed, it is more serious because you are faced with the teacher's expectations and hopes compared with your own effort.

It got me thinking about my own parents. How many times have I made my parents angry? And how many times were they disappointed in me? And so it becomes my own lesson today too.

classroom notes #8: it's all worth it

The bell rings. It’s the end of a lesson.

“That’s it for today. Hand in your work.”

Chairs scrape loudly echoing off the walls in the hall.

“Don’t forget your homework sheet. It’s due next week.”

Kids muttering impatiently as they wait to be dismissed.

“You need to write in complete sentences and give five good reasons.”

The noise level increases as papers rustle and kids start running around upstairs.

“Give examples. Such as… For example…”

Feet shuffle about as they edge towards the door ready to flee.

“Okay, good-bye class.”

Within seconds, the hall is deserted.

Then a tug on my sleeve and a quiet voice… “Thank you, Miss Hester.”

My pleasure.