Intentionality - Part I

Once, long ago, in a far-away school, I had a student that drove me nuts. As I griped at the copy machine, a fellow teacher leaned in and said with all seriousness, “You know, Eric, whatever happens in your classroom is completely up to you.”

Right…

I could think of a hundred scenarios in which that was clearly not the case. I didn’t pull the strings that made the mouths open that let the bad words fly. I didn’t push the lethargic heads down on the desks when there was work to be done. I didn’t create the poorly completed assignments, and neglect the homework from the night before.

But it stuck, what he said. I knew, in some fundamental way, that the pompous jerk was right.

I accept that my presence, attitude, and actions in the classroom have a profound impact on my students. I don’t always acknowledge or handle this awesome power too well, but I recognize it. I’ve started to watch for it, and have begun seeing it at work in my classroom.

I’ve been thinking a lot about ‘intentionality’. It was a big mistake to look it up. Seems that a lot of other people have been thinking about intentionality, too – thinking very hard about it, and making it way too complicated for the likes of me. So as far as 'intentionality' goes, I just want to dwell for a while on my own little realization that every word I say, every gesture I make, every action, response and oversight in my classroom sends a message to each of my students - one that may be interpreted in many ways, but is received and processed by them, however subliminally. As such, I need to look and listen carefully.

My first and most disappointing realization after reflecting on this was that I am not Superman. I am not Super-Teacher. I am flawed; prejudiced, opinionated, and weak. It took awhile, about ten years of teaching, but I’ve accepted that. Really, I’m OK.

The second thing that occurred was to become a little more attuned to, and forgiving of, my students' imperfections. They noticed, too. I mean, I didn't become a pushover, but I started to listen to the complaints about soccer games, play rehearsals, and not enough time. I started to notice that my students read more, and wrote better, when they did it in class.

The last thing I discovered was that as a flawed, prejudiced, and opinionated person, I - the teacher - became a little more interesting. I found that when I shared a bit of myself, admitted a shortcoming or two, revealed an opinion in an open and fair exchange of ideas, my students perked up a bit.

Part II on Thursday (good to set deadlines, even if I break them.)

NaNoWriMo

NaNoWriMo

My English team-teacher got me on to NaNoWriMo. That’s “Na”tional “No”vel “Wri”ting “Mo”nth. Thirty days of writing to crank out 50,000 words by November 30th. No edits, no revisions, just crank out the crap and see at the end of November what kind of pile you have. It’s possible, if you average a mere 1660 words per day.

I signed on. It’s November 3. I’m at 800 words. But I’m learning. So far I’ve learned that writing a novel-length story is not as easy as writing a drunken manifesto. You have to think. That’s not fair.

So I walked to school today. It took me an hour, and that gave me time to I solve a few problems with my story. Which, in turn, created problems. But at least I could keep writing.

My English team-teacher opened up the challenge to her students. Kids are encouraged to go for 7 to 15,000 words by the end of the month. She’s tracking each participants progress, including mine.

So what? I don’t have time for this. I won’t possibly reach 50,000 words by the end of the month.

A couple things. The challenge and the freedom to just write without editing, writing for quantity over quality, frees things up. The time frame is doable, with some commitment, of which this rates as pretty low on the priority list. But at least it’s on the list! Getting the kids involved was a great idea, and having me and other adults in the school involved gives the act of writing just a little more cred. Not that I’m oozing with ‘cool’ or anything, but the kids see adults involved, and they think, well, writing for fun and the challenge like this is something that even some adults do. Writing isn’t so weird.

That’s all for now. Back to the story. I need help though. What would a Tibetan monk be doing with a satchel full of cash? Stay tuned, or, just put in an order for my NaNoWriMo book!