Safe Spaces

This wasn’t originally what I planned to write. I had a perfectly good idea that I attempted to write about on multiple occasions during the week. I’m sure I will return to it in the future, but this week, like much of America, I have been consumed by the images and words that have filled my tv screen, dominated my social media feeds, and disturbed my dreams.

The unimaginable devastation of Hurricane Harvey is impossible to ignore. I can’t even fathom what it must be like in the midst of the destruction, but watching from afar has been horrifying. Last night, I sat mesmerized for hours watching news footage of people escaping rising waters, abandoning what is left of their homes, clinging to rescuers for security, and entering shelters in hopes of finding safety.

Watching the families and individuals filing into the shelters reminded me of an experience 15 years ago in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina. To offer whatever help I could, I signed up as a volunteer for the Red Cross, attended a fast-tracked version of their disaster-response training, and reported on Saturday to Reunion Arena in downtown Dallas to work at the shelter that had been set up there.

I did many jobs that day: serving meals, distributing toiletries to people who were about to have their first shower in days, sorting supplies, and working the main floor of the arena where families were setting up cots and staking out the tiny squares of floor they would call “home.”

“Hopeful relief” is the phrase that best describes the atmosphere in the shelter that day. Though the people there had traveled for miles, had left all but minimal possessions behind, and were uncertain what the future might hold, they knew that at last they were safe. Love was everywhere that day. Children played games and colored together at tables at one end of the arena. Grandparents read stories aloud and hugged their grandkids tightly. Fathers returned from DART rail trips to the Cityplace Target with clean, new shirts and socks for their children. A small choir of teens practiced a song to perform at a local church the next morning. One elderly woman told me she was eager to go to a house of worship to give thanks for the safety of her family.  

After thousands were fed and bedtime approached, the shelter began to settle down. The harsh overhead lights were dimmed and quiet hours began. Voices were at a whisper as the elderly and the very young began to drift off to sleep. One father sat in a silent vigil, watching protectively over his wife and children as they slept. There were some quiet tears amid the snores as the room drifted into a deep slumber. Peace and safety replaced doubt and anxiety. Life might look different from this point forward, but things were going to be alright.

An hour later, the silent night was disturbed by the sound of a bullhorn and the glare of the arena lights being turned on suddenly. It seems that several other busloads of evacuees were due to arrive the next morning, and the man in charge of overseeing the operations at the shelter decided that we needed to make room immediately for them and others who might show up later. The volunteers were told to squeeze everyone into half of the arena floor.  With no concern for the comfort, safety, or humanity of the people, the man barked orders into a bullhorn, rudely waking the room and destroying any sense of home created during the day. The space was no longer a safe one.

I do not recall ever in my life feeling so bad on behalf of others as I did that night. These volunteers who had spent all day ensuring the safety and helping to establish community in that shelter were the very ones who had to disturb sleep and attempt to explain why it was so crucial to move everyone in the middle of the night. I couldn’t explain it because it didn’t make a bit of sense to me.

All of these memories remind me of the importance of creating safe spaces for students in our schools and classrooms. Many of us will encounter students in the upcoming months who have been displaced by Harvey. All of us already have students in our classes who experience traumas of their own every single day. During childhood and adolescence, even tiny problems can seem insurmountable. Unfortunately, many young people deal with issues that no one would call tiny. Homelessness, depression, domestic violence, abuse, death, crime, neglect, divorce, abandonment, substance abuse, poverty, and so many other traumas we can’t begin to imagine are everyday parts of the lives of some of our students. For many, school is their safe place away from all that, their escape.

In high school psychology, we studied Maslow, who said that safety was one of the needs—second only to physiological needs such as food, water, and shelter—that must be met before things such as learning can occur. People who don’t feel safe are constantly on high alert. Their brains are in the fight-or-flight stage, and they aren’t receptive to things that don’t impact their immediate survival. Learning doesn’t take place when students don’t feel safe.

Creating and maintaining a safe space for learning should be the top priority for anyone who works in education. We create safe spaces in many ways:

• by the family or community we build
• in the ways we speak to students and they ways we allow them to speak to others
• through our responses to mistakes, errors, and imperfections
• in the rules and norms we set up and how we enforce them
• by listening, even when we are busy
• in our preparation and readiness for each day of class
• with our policies and procedures
• through our body language and physical arrangements of the learning space
• in the ways we accept and celebrate the wide variety of personalities, learning needs, backgrounds, perspectives, and physical types that inhabit our classrooms
• by our words and actions on the days when we are the most stressful ourselves

A teacher told me today about a student who wrote and shared a piece of writing about what it felt like to have a seventeen-year-old older brother who will be in prison for the next ten years. The class listened intently and cried along with this sixth grade boy as he read aloud about an extremely sensitive and personal part of his life in a classroom he had only known for six school days. That teacher has clearly created a safe space for that young man to take risks and share important aspects of himself with others.  

Safe spaces take work to create and even more work to maintain, but the results are worth the effort.

May your students find refuge in your classroom from whatever storms they are weathering. For some, you will be the lifeboat that rescues them, the compass that guides them, the rudder that steers them in the right direction, the life vest that keeps them afloat, or the rock they can cling to when things get rough.

My day working in the Katrina shelter was one of the best and worst days of my life because I experienced the power of creating a safe space and then witnessed what happens when that safety disappears. To our sisters and brothers affected by Harvey, whatever the future brings, I wish a speedy return to safety and stability.  

May we all soon inhabit safe spaces because only there can we be our very best selves.  

The-Words-That-Must-Not-Be-Spoken

In the Harry Potter series of books and films, the baddiest of the baddies, Lord Voldemort, is so dreadful that he is often referred to as “You-Know-Who” or “He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.” He strikes such fear in the hearts of others that the mere utterance of his name is completely terrifying (not to mention, what’s up with that creepy reptile nose?).

In education in Texas, there’s another word that provokes similar fits of terror in young and old alike: STAAR. The pronounceable acronym of our state test—in addition to its not-too-distant high school cousin, EOC—raises the pulse rates of all who hear them.  

I would like to add STAAR, EOC, AP Test, final exam, MAP, and the name of every other high-stakes test to a list of Words-That-Must-Not-Be-Spoken.

What would happen if teachers never mentioned the names of those assessments until a few weeks before they took place? What would happen if no educator ever told kids, “You’re going to need to know this for the [insert name of test here]”? What would happen if we completely eliminated any language that insinuated that what we are teaching or practicing is important solely because they have to know it to pass a one-day, three-hour ordeal nine months from now?

Here’s what I think could happen:

Teachers could teach meaningful lessons focused on the TEKS and guide students toward rigorous content-area habits of mind that would prepare them for much more than just a test. And, because the learning was guided by the assessed objectives, they would be prepared for the test without preparing for the test!

Students might believe that what they are learning matters beyond one silly test because they see the usefulness of the learning in a real-world context.

Learners wouldn’t be beaten down by mind-numbing practice problems, fake multiple choice items, and tedious bell ringers swiped directly from released tests or test-prep workbooks. Instead, they could move away from a multiple-choice world of predetermined responses and enter a realm where students get to generate their own answers.   

Students would believe that their teachers care about their learning, not just about their standardized test scores.

School could be fun. Did I just say that? Fun? I did. Fun! Or if not fun, at least not miserable.

Students who are worriers—and there are more than a few of them out there—won’t spend the majority of the school year paralyzed by anxiety as they endure the 150-day countdown to the Big Test.  

A week or so before the test, teachers could tell their students, “By the way, there’s an end-of-course exam coming up next week. The reason I haven’t already mentioned it is that I’ve been so busy teaching you things that it slipped my mind. No need for you to worry about it. You’ve got this. I’ve prepared you. All you have to do is show them what you’ve been showing me all year.”             

It’s kind of an exciting possibility. Let’s make a pact. I won’t say the Words-That-Must-Not-Be-Spoken if you don’t say the them. We can teach what we’re supposed to teach, make learning exciting, create a culture of happy scholars, and have a fantastic school year.

A Party Invitation

Your teacher is having a yearlong party….and everyone is invited.

That’s the message—the invitation—I want students to receive on the first day of school from every one of their teachers. I’m not talking about a wild, out-of-control, call-the-cops-and-shut-this-craziness-down kind of party. The type of party I’m thinking of is one where everyone is excited to attend, has a good time, meets and learns from interactions with others, and leaves with lasting memories and anticipation for the next get-together.

But it’s not easy to make such a life-changing experience happen. To learn how throw a superlative party, it’s a good idea to consult the experts. Emily Post was someone who knew how to entertain a houseful of guests. This wealthy, white East Coast socialite with her finishing school education and extravagant inheritances, though clearly not representative of most of America even during her lifespan, rose to prominence in the 1920s as the nation’s leading authority on etiquette and proper comportment. Her seminal 1922 book, Etiquette, and the website of the organization she started, The Emily Post Institute, provide some gems for educators as they ponder how to pack some punch into the “party” they’re planning for the upcoming school year.

According to the writers at The Emily Post Institute, party organizers should consider “Six Ways to Be a Good Host.”  Fascinatingly, these time-tested party tips also apply beautifully to what we as teachers do in our classrooms with students:

1) Invite clearly. Include necessary information for your guests in the invitation: the date, the time, the place, the occasion, the host(s) and when and how to respond “yes” or “no.” Add any special information such as what to wear or what to bring, say, for a pot-luck. (All quotations in blue are from emilypost.com.)

Most of us don’t get to invite students to be in our classes; students either sign up or they don’t, and schedules are magically assigned by a counselor or a computer. We may not be able to decide who shows up at our party, but we have the chance as we communicate with students, parents, and adults on our campus to make sure our language, tone, and body language send the message that we truly believe everyone is invited into our classrooms.  Eliminating phrases such as “isn’t honors (or AP) material” and “doesn’t belong” can go a long way to changing our own perceptions of our students. No longer will our party be like Studio 54 with a bouncer at the door ready to block the entrance of the undesirables. We can make sure every student is on the guest list. Having guests with wide and varied backgrounds, interests, perspectives, and experiences makes a richer party with livelier and more engrossing conversations.

2) Plan well. Take care creating your guest list. A great group of people will make any party a success, even if it rains on the picnic or the food is a flop. Get everything ready—your meal prepped, the table set, your party space tidy, refreshments ready—well before your guests arrive, so you’ll feel relaxed from the very beginning.

That part about getting everything ready before your guests arrive is spot-on advice for teachers. If you’re scurrying around trying to complete last-minute plans, write the learning target on the board, return unanswered emails, gather supplies, update Google Classroom, and put the finishing touches on a PowerPoint presentation as students enter the room, you start out the period agitated, and students can sense that. If you feel relaxed and can fix your attention on your students from the outset, class will run more smoothly for you and for the kids. Excellent preparation ensures a seamless flow of activities and efficient, unobtrusive use of materials, which lets your “partygoers” know that you’re the one who has taken meticulous care to make this the best party ever.

3) Be welcoming and attentive. Make sure guests are greeted warmly, then made to feel welcome throughout the party. Look after each guest as much as you can. If you notice a guest with an empty glass or if there’s one person standing alone, take action and remedy the situation.

Meet your students at the door. Learn their names AND how to pronounce them correctly. Show every student consideration and hospitality. What is hospitality? Emily Post addressed the topic herself in Etiquette: “The atmosphere of hospitality is something very intangible, and yet nothing is more actually felt—or missed.” Students may not be able to tell you when they feel welcome in a certain teacher’s class, but they are acutely aware when they don’t. Remember that each student is a guest in your classroom and, as such, deserves to be treated with the highest level of kindness and hospitality. The ancient Greeks had a word for this, xenia. In their case, the kindness they showed strangers stemmed from their fears that the stranger might be a deity in disguise who might strike them down if they didn’t treat him well. In today’s world, teachers should just be hospitable because it’s the right thing to do. Our hospitality expert again provides some sage advice on the topic:

“If you take some one under your roof, he becomes part of, and sharer in, your life and possessions. . . . You receive your guest with a smile, no matter how inconvenient or troublesome or straining to your resources his visit may be, and on no account do you let him suspect any of this.”

-Emily Post, Etiquette (1922)

A welcoming teacher has an extraordinary poker face that never lets that one student (or his classmates) know that he drives the teacher crazy or is an ever-increasing test of patience. I am still working on perfecting that skill.

4) Be flexible and gracious. Your soufflé falls. Or one friend arrives with an unexpected guest. The ruined dessert? Have a fallback. The uninvited guest? As discourteous as it is for someone to spring a surprise on you, be gracious. No polite host would ever send an uninvited guest packing.

Guess what? You’re working with kids. Something is going to go wrong. Things will happen that are not as you planned. Frequently. Some timid teen is going to show up in your room on the first day of school with your name on her schedule, and you are going to have no prior knowledge that she is coming...and may not have a spare seat in your crowded room for her. Have a plan B and a plan C. Welcome that student like you would all the others and find a spot for her, even if it means giving up your own desk chair for the day. I assure you that students are a whole lot more nervous on day one than you are; the way you handle those unexpected surprises makes an indelible first impression.  

5) Be the leader and the spark. It’s your job to run the show and let your guests know when it’s time for dinner, or dessert, or charades. Circulate among your guests, introduce newcomers, and stay with each group long enough to get a conversation going.

This timely tip has two components, both of which are important for party-planning teachers.

Be the leader. You’re the one in charge of your classroom, but you can walk a fine line between host-in-charge and dictatorial tyrant. Have you ever been to a party where the host met you at the door and began rattling off a list of things you could NOT (underlined and bolded and perhaps in all caps for emphasis) do? “There’s ABSOLUTELY NO chewing gum at this party. Using your cell phone WILL result in a ZERO. DO NOT talk to one another unless I give you permission to do so. DO NOT get out of your seat. And, if you have a question, DO NOT blurt it out.  Those who show up to the party late will receive a warning the first time and then will NOT be invited back next time. . . .” If your host greeted you with that tirade, I suspect you wouldn’t stick around that party for long. A good party planner welcomes guests, orients them to what they CAN do at the party, and trusts that they will behave in a civil manner. Nine times out of ten, when the party is well-planned, responsive to the needs of the guests, and run by an amiable host, the partygoers will behave. When and if a problem occurs, the host speaks with the offending guests in private because no one likes to be shamed publicly. The Puritans did the public shaming thing in the early days of the colonies in New England, and the Puritans didn’t exactly establish a historical reputation for having fabulous parties.

Be the spark. A host is the spark of the party, igniting the enthusiasm of each guest and getting things rolling. In the classroom, teachers kindle the fires of learning, but they must begin by building a strong classroom community. That involves taking a personal interest in every student, getting to know them all. For party hosts (and educators) who can’t be bothered with getting to know every guest, our friend Mrs. Post has some harsh advice:

“Introspective people who are fearful of others, fearful of themselves, are never successfully popular hosts or hostesses. If you for instance, are one of these, if you are really afraid of knowing some one who might some day prove unpleasant, if you are such a snob that you can’t take people at their face value, then why make the effort to bother with people at all? Why not shut your front door tight and pull down the blinds and, sitting before a mirror in your own drawing-room, order tea for two?”

-Emily Post, Etiquette (1922)

(Ouch, Emily. But thanks for speaking the truth.)

6) Be appreciative. Thank people for coming as you bid them good-bye. And don’t forget to thank anyone who brought you a gift.

As your guests leave your classroom each day, let them know you were glad they made the effort to show up and participate. Modeling gratitude and appreciation builds capacity in your students to share their gratitude and appreciation with others.

Odds are highly unlikely that a teacher would receive an actual gift from a student on the first day of school, so the idea of thank-you notes seems irrelevant in this unwieldy educational metaphor. Though there may be no Starbucks gift cards, tacky coffee cups, or apples left on the teacher’s desk, the teacher-as-host has the opportunity to notice and be witness to the gifts the students bring with them every day— those character traits and habits of the mind the teacher can reinforce through praise. By pointing out the gifts in our students when we spot them, we celebrate what we value and generally see more of it down the road. Mrs. Post touches on this idea when she writes about the actions of the ideal partner at a bridge party:

“The ideal [bridge] partner is one who never criticises or even seems to be aware of your mistakes, but on the contrary recognizes a good maneuver on your part, and gives you credit for it whether you win the hand or lose…. Also, to be continually found fault with makes you play your worst; whereas appreciation of good judgment on your part acts as a tonic and you play seemingly ‘better than you know how.’”  

-Emily Post, Etiquette (1922)

The power of appreciating the gifts in our students is that is makes them “better than [they] know how to be. “  It is so easy to find faults in things. I’m a champion at it. Fault finders don’t win popularity contests. Those who find and celebrate the good things others do, however, bring out the best in those around them. People want to be around them; they want to come to their parties.

My wish for everyone who reads this is that your classroom is a party all year long and that students learn, achieve, grow, connect, and surpass their own expectations as well as yours. May you be the “host with the most” and have cheerful students who are excited to return to your classroom every single day. What are you waiting for? Get the party started.