Causing Learning | Why We Teach

Would I want me to be my teacher?

Mirrors sometime present both the best and the worst of ourselves. Standing before the glass we see ourselves as we are. Mirrors do not lie. At the same time, we see ourselves as we want others to see us. It is that dual impression that we must address. Are we who we think we are and is that who we present to others?

Let children be your mirror.

Years ago, I knelt beside a second-grade child to check how she was doing with math fact flash cards. Her face scrunched up in thinking as she quietly talked herself through the cards. I counted eight successful automatic responses to eight flash cards. She was nailing her math facts and then she nailed me. When I gave her a thumbs up for her math, she smiled then frowned and said, “Your breath smells like bad coffee.” Immediately I went from happy educator to crestfallen odor-monger. Her impression and my impression of me did not jive and I knew that hers was the only one that counts. That day I quit drinking coffee at school. I also began making a closer inspection of how the children I taught perceived their teacher.

I began by questioning the values I thought I brought to the classroom every day. I listed 15 statements of what I believe about good instruction that causes learning. These are six I held up to my mirror asking, “would I want to be my teacher?”

Once I started checking my assumptions, I confirmed some practices but needed to adjust others so that I was constantly moving toward best practices. However, my teaching soul can take only so much introspection before it wants to say “Ouch” and loses its critical focus. On another day I questioned other practices. Doing a professional introspection several times each school year keeps me from becoming stale and just teaching the same lessons repeatedly. At the end of ten years, I want my students to have a teacher who strengthened his teaching over ten years not a first-year teacher who repeated being a first-year teacher ten times.

After several rounds of introspection, I changed the question from “would I want me to be my teacher” to “would I want me to be my daughter’s teacher.” That really ramped up the critical review.

Back to the beginning. I never again knelt next to a certain young lady without a fresh wintergreen lifesaver in my mouth.

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