Every parent would like to know that their child, as a new student in a school, will be greeted enthusiastically by teachers and warmly by students. The hidden reality is that a new student comes with a trace of anxiety. One more student in an already large class can be perceived by a teacher as the tipping point between control and chaos - the difference between effective teaching or what amounts to mere seat work for students. The thought of additional reporting, and even the apparently simple yet important consideration of where to seat a new child, can tinge that hoped-for welcome a new student so critically needs. After several weeks of hard work together, a class and a teacher create a working relationship that can be quickly altered by the emotional, academic, and social needs of an incoming student.
At a recent intake meeting, I learned of a prospective new student with significant challenges. I thought about how another teacher, perhaps even me a few years ago, might have smiled outwardly yet quietly internalized this information. How am I going to do this? Is this fair to my class? Is this really the right placement for the child, considering all the accommodations required?
I felt none of that. I thought about how fortunate this incoming child was to have a parent advocating for him. I thought about what a great experience this child’s presence would be for my students. Finally, I thought that I really don’t need to change a thing in terms of my instructional approach.
I wonder how it came to this. I can say now that writing with my students in my classroom has made that much difference in my approach to teaching. With that, we may not have precisely or entirely covered the curriculum prescribed, but we have learned and I have taught all that needs to be in order to accommodate this particular student, or any student. Together, we’ve learned to flex, to allow ourselves to be shaped and to embrace whatever person or idea comes through the classroom door. We've practiced patience with the process of writing; with the process of finding our thoughts and clarifying them with written words. We’ve established trust; that from wherever one approaches their writing is legitimate, fragile, and needs to be made to feel safe in order to share with others freely.
Where else will a new student like this be more suitably placed, but in a writing classroom?
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Interesting take... follows the idea I've had for the past decade that each student should have an IEP- it makes all that much more sense when the focus is on writing, since the evidence of learning is there on the paper.
ReplyDeletethanks for writing these
How great for you! One can tell teachers who feel that they GET to teach inclusively from those who feel that they HAVE to teach inclusively. Every so often, I find that I want to show an aspiring teacher what that positive, accepting, democratic spirit is like. I'll send them here for that experience.
ReplyDeleteThanks for sharing this.
Being a thinker doesn't require an ID, hazing, or shibboleths. Even if you're a foreigner to the community. It's what we do. If writing is a process of generating meaning, then that would explain why it's perfect for the new kid as much as the grizzled veteran writers of the class. In fact, I wonder if that is a great experiment: if you can throw a new person into it and have them join in easily, then learning (not testing) is the main groove; if the new person is a Big Problem, then maybe the class is too dependent on testing, coverage, and the anxious urge to own more knowledge real estate.
ReplyDeleteI appreciate the comments. I also want folks who have read this entry to know that I've edited it since posting, toning down the selfish 'unwelcomeness' component. I truly believe that nearly all teachers do the best they can to incorporate new students and make them feel welcome, and are professional about keeping their personal anxieties in check. Still, there is sometimes a bit of reluctance for having to step out of the 'comfort zone'.
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