The Lesson

We were going to make a memory. I mentally pictured one of those warm and fuzzy moments between my students and me. Planning all the little details was giving me a great deal of pleasure. On our high school career campus where I taught at the time, all the buildings surrounded a courtyard. The landscaping in this opening was minimal, especially at this time of year. It was autumn and most of the trees had shed their leaves, but one spectacular tree was left. Its leaves shone a brilliant crimson in the sunshine. I decided to take my class outdoors under this single beautiful tree to make the moment memorable. I knew they would enjoy the break from our windowless classroom. this would alert them to the importance of the occasion and help cement the memory.

Why?

Something positive and significant had happened. It was an event of great importance to me; I had just had my first article published. Admittedly, it was published in a small local newspaper. Technically, I hadn’t sold the article. No money was offered or expected. Yet still I felt high on success. An article I had written had been published with my own byline. They even spelled my name correctly… a rare event. This had been a long-term personal goal and a sense of pride was flowing through me. I wanted to mark this milestone with my class.

Goal setting is something I try to model for my students. I didn’t realize until I started teaching teenagers how lucky I had been in my life. Setting goals was something my mother taught me at home. I was surprised and sorry to note that this skill was particularly lacking in many of my adolescent students. How fortunate for me that my mother had taught me all the steps. First dream. Then visualize your dream. Begin to make it real by finding a picture of what you want and displaying it. In my mother’s home, this meant the kitchen refrigerator. List the steps toward accomplishing this dream and take the first step. As soon as possible, take another step.

Role models are the best teachers, I believe. Sharing my dreams, my accomplishments, and my setbacks with my students is one of the most powerful things I bring to the classroom. My students knew that I wanted to be a published writer. My frequent failures and rejections I shared with them too. How better to make them capable of facing failures in their future than to admit my own and let them watch me continue working the steps toward a dream, even after a failure? They teased me about my dreams, but they humored me too. Naively, I visualized how excited they were going to be for me…how this tiny but significant event in my life would motivate them to set new goals and give them the courage to dream a little larger. I could mentally hear the song ‘I believe I can Fly’ serenading my soul. I looked forward to the last class of the day when this tremendous bonding moment would take place.

I Had Forgotten One Thing

Teenagers sometimes use automatic weapons to burst your bubble when a pin would do the job nicely. Oh, but it was a humbling experience. When I told them we were holding our class outside under a beautiful tree, amazingly but immediately the complaining began…

Why do we have to go outside?

It’s freezing out here!

Where are we supposed to sit?

There’s not enough room on this bench!

I’m not sitting on the concrete!

Why are we doing this?

This is soooo dumb!

And my personal favorite….

Do we get a grade for this?

Disappointed and through clenched teeth, I growled. I mean I really growled. (Clench your teeth and snarl when you read this). We…are…making…a…memory!

Though it wasn’t audible, you could feel the expletive at the end of that sentence. Some of the students quieted down, but several continued to grumble throughout the whole activity. I told them the about the significance of the occasion. I showed them my byline in the newspaper with my name on it. They were not impressed. I read the story aloud to them. It was a touching story about planting tulips with my daughter and about how the reappearance of those tulips each spring signaled that she had survived another year cancer free. They were not touched. I talked briefly about the importance of having meaningful goals and celebrating successes when they occurred. The exact moment I paused in my speaking someone said,

Can we go in now?

Totally deflated, I nodded. A few of them actually sprinted for the door. I had never before seen them run. They sure didn’t run when they were coming to my class. I walked back to the building slowly, feeling completely rejected. I made a mental note never to try anything which even remotely resembled this activity ever again. My self-esteem couldn’t survive it. My wonderful lesson felt like it had been ground through the garbage disposal.

The Revelation

About a year and a half later, Edie, one of my new graduates came to school to visit me. While we were catching up I shared some of my current good news with her. I had just received a book that contained an article I had written for A Fourth Course of Chicken Soup for the Soul. I showed her the book autographed by Jack Canfield and Mark Victor Hansen. She gave me the most startled look and said something quite odd as she extended her arm in my direction.

Mrs. Easley, feel my arm.

I was puzzled but I wrapped my hand around her arm as she went on…

I have goosebumps. Can you feel them? You’ve given me goosebumps.

Then she said something even more surprising…

“I can remember the day you took our class outside into the courtyard to read us your article that was in the newspaper.” Her voice was full of awe as she continued. “You told us on that day that you wanted to have a story published in the Chicken Soup for the Soul series. I can’t believe you have accomplished this! I’m so proud of you.” She gave me a big hug and then sat down to read the story. I watched her read as I blinked back tears.

How different were our memories of that day. I was certain that I had reached no one. Frankly, it was a horrible memory for me. And yet here was proof that my message had been heard. I have no recollection of telling my students that one of my goals was to be published in Chicken Soup for the Soul. I’m certain I did, but only because Edie shared her memory with me. What an incredible lesson she taught me on that day.

In even our bleakest moments as teachers,

we may truly be accomplishing so much more than is apparent.

Edie taught me that. I will try and remember this forever. Quite by accident, I learned about the positive impact I had made on an afternoon I felt was a total failure. I had literally seen and felt the evidence. Goosebumps are not to be taken lightly.

A Celebration!

Just this week my second book for teachers, TEACH…To Change Lives has become available on Amazon.com. Woo-hoo! Purchase a copy to thank or encourage a teacher or future teacher.

It is full of classroom ideas and inspiring true stories.

Each MONDAY in August and up through September 10th, I will post an inspiring true story about teaching. Please pass the word along to all your teacher friends.

Thank you for reading my blog!

Are You Kidding Me?

All the prospective teachers in my classroom were angry. You could feel the tension hanging in the air within the classroom walls. I was teaching in a Teacher Academy program for high school juniors and seniors. I had just shown my group of high school aged future teachers an article that compared teacher salaries to the yearly income of a wide variety of other professions. But this activity backfired. The reality didn’t just inform them, it infuriated them.

Heated comments fueled by adolescent hormones were flying around the room. “Why should we work this hard to learn about a profession that pays so poorly”? “What makes accountants and salesmen more valuable than teachers?” “How come basketball players and sports figures are worth so much more than teachers who educate our country’s children?” They looked at me with indignation. They seemed to blame me as though I had written the economic reality of my own profession.

In that moment I sensed I was poorly prepared to answer them. I chose the escape route of a chicken. If you don’t know the answer, pose a question.

“Maybe it’s a good time to revisit the question I asked you on the first day of school,” I challenged them. “Why do you want to teach?”

I paused and waited for their answers. But they weren’t falling for it. They didn’t feel like sharing those touchy-feely stories again. If society didn’t value teachers were they preparing for the wrong career? Their body language said it all. They leaned back in their chairs and crossed their arms over their chests. They were daring me to defend a profession that was seemingly undervalued by our American culture.

I paused even longer, and not just because I know that an effective teacher gives students time to formulate answers. I waited because I knew I had to say exactly the right thing to this group at this moment. I couldn’t come up with the right words. I started to sweat.

Finally seventeen-year-old Chelsea began to speak. “My real dad is jealous of my step dad,” she began.

Every head in the room swung to look at her like she was nuts. Why in the world was she talking about her two dads at a time like this? But she read their body language and continued, “Wait, just a minute, hear me out. My real dad is jealous of my step dad. I know this is true because he told me so. My real dad said he is jealous for two reasons. First, my step dad gets to live with me. My real dad claims he’s jealous because my step dad gets to spend more time with me.”

“The second reason he says he’s jealous is because my step dad is an engineer who designs toys. He first designs a toy. If that toy design is selected by the big toy company he works for, he gets to watch the whole toy development process. He watches them produce the toy, choose packaging for it, and market the toy through ads and television commercials. He even gets to see his finished toy on the toy store shelf and watch kids take it home to play. My real dad thinks that would be such a cool way to make a living.

You see, my real dad drives a delivery truck. One day when we were having one of those kind of serious father/daughter talks, he told me that in his job at the end of a really good day all he has to show for it is an empty truck. He told me that he doesn’t care what profession I choose, but he wants me to choose carefully so that at the end of the day I will have something more than an empty truck.”

She paused to let that sink in and then she continued, “That’s why I want to teach. Because as a teacher, at the end of a day of helping students learn, I’ll feel a sense of accomplishment that will be so much more than an empty truck.”

I had a lump in my throat when she stopped speaking. I thought about the courage of her father. How tough it must have been to so eloquently admit his jealousy for her stepfather. He was so focused on his daughter choosing a career with meaning that he put his own self-esteem on hold to share an analogy she will never forget. She internalized his message so completely that she could pull it out and share it with others at just the right moment. It changed the whole climate of my classroom in an instant. My students sensed the complete truth in that story. I didn’t have to add a word.

Isn’t that, after all, why all of us teach? At the end of a day, a school year or even a career we will have so much more than an empty classroom. In this profession we build relationships that can honestly span a lifetime and touch generations to come. When we prepare a student to enter a profession with meaning because we have first helped him believe in himself, we help define not just his life, but the way he raises his family as well. As a career teacher, I admit not every day is easy. On those tough days I like to think about Chelsea’s story of the empty truck. I make myself stop, close my eyes, and actually visualize that truck. Then I take a deep breath and just keep on truckin’.

Today Chelsea is a teacher and has her own students in Hamilton, Ohio. I have written my second book for teachers titled TEACH…To Change Lives and Chelsea’s story is only one of the stories in it. It is now available at Amazon.com.

DaunaEasley

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