Oh Captain, My Captain

The Robin Williams movie that I personally consider one of his greatest, and one of the finest teaching movies ever is Dead Poet’s Society:

1. It is important to be an individual.
2. We each have a great need for acceptance, but must trust that our own beliefs are our own.
3. To speak our minds – that no matter what anyone tells you, words and ideas can change the world.
4. To never stop learning,
5. To seek a fresh perspective – I stand on my desk to remind myself that we must constantly look at things a different way.
6. Don’t be lazy.
7. Be proactive.
8. Don’t take things too personally.
9. A grand gesture goes a long way.
10. To live life to the fullest – Carpe Diem, because, believe it or not, each and every one of us in this room is going to stop breathing, turn cold and die.

 

I don’t believe many of these concepts need my expansion, especially if you’ve seen the movie.  But also because I believe you can all interpret these in the way you see fit depending on the point in life that you’re at.  Robin Williams taught me a lot of things from all of the characters he portrayed over the years, but this last movie, in particular, made a huge impression.

 

I have in my life had the pleasure of having teachers that I’d stand on a desk for, and have also been grateful to teach with such colleagues as well, teachers that students love and adore, who have been there for them, in spite of their own lives, despite the challenges that they face or the time that they have – these teachers are the ones that are remembered, that are honoured, that students mention in yearbook entries, and who they come back for year after year to check in with…I do hope that one day in my career, my students will walk away with the life lessons I’ve taught them, and stand on their desks in tribute reciting, “Oh Captain, My Captain”.

Open Letter to Teachers from a Student

This letter was written/posted on Promethean Planet, I loved it and I think we teachers need to hear this from our students every once in a while.  It helps to know that we are doing good, that our students appreciate us, that they understand what we are trying to accomplish in our time with them.

Dear Teachers:

As I approach my senior year in high school, I look back and remember all of the teachers who have valiantly fought to cut into the deepest depths of my brain and expose it to both school and life lessons. Skillfully avoiding the lethally thrown spears of “I don’t care” and “When are we ever going to use this is real life?” soldierly teachers trudge onwards, forever trying and hoping that a new stab at a lesson will fixate the knowledge within our ever-growing minds. Day after day, teachers strive to find a new plan of attack for the advancement and permanence of their teachings.

The biggest issue during my career as a student has always been a severe lack of continuous motivation and focus. I would sit in class, head on my hand and eyes glazed, and my mind would float from the classroom to anything and everything. However, around the tenth grade, I started to notice certain patterns with the classes in which I succeeded. The most evident pattern was simply that I enjoyed the class; my mind was stimulated, the material was appealing, and I felt incentivized to actually participate. I recognized that the teachers who caught my attention and fanned my curiosity were the ones who allowed us to actually be kids. Hands-on learning and discussions in which everyone’s ideas were heard urged me to become engaged with the subject and class. And even though I will still occasionally zone out and become distracted, you are the one who ultimately coaxes and molds the desire to learn.

So, as an upcoming senior who has grown up within today’s educational system, I wanted to say both thank you and sorry. Thank you for putting up with our shenanigans, back-talk, and ungratefulness, amongst many other things. And I, on behalf of all students, am sorry for all the same things. You sacrifice so much of your time, patience, and sanity for students, and are often unrewarded for your intense devotion. Too often, students stand by without giving thanks; however, you should know: we appreciate you. And although we might not physically have the words cross our lips, the hand shooting into the air like a missile, the small smile pasted on our faces after a lesson, and the progress from addition to multiplication to dividing trigonometric functions are our thanks. So, teachers— thank you. Thank you for making me excited to grow as a student and person. Thank you for allowing me the opportunity to expand my learnings and explore my passions. Thank you for being teachers.

Yours always,
A student

Assignment – Purchase (buy or lease) a Vehicle

A couple of years ago, I created an assignment where I asked my IB1 Studies students to use the information they had learned in the finance unit of the course to purchase (buy or lease) a vehicle (car, motorcycle, etc.) and instead of the usual writeup, I asked them to create a commercial, to sell their vehicle to me and the other judges.

Well, some turned out pretty good, and one in particular was quite memorably horrific and made me look sheepishly at my colleagues and sigh at the student.  It also gave me an opportunity to reassess, reflect and move forward with the assignment in the future if I should desire to use it again.

Below, is the kind of commercial I had in mind when I created the assignment.  Maybe I needed to be more explicit in my instructions?

Vicious Cycle of Assessments

I think sometimes students think we make tests and because we intend to torture them.  This is not true.

As teachers, we understand that assessment is necessary – projects, problem sets, labs, quizzes, tests, exams – the combination is endless and yet, the final exam is inevitable.

This year, I got to experience something I’d actually missed.  The sight of students writing exams in a gym, the seriousness of it, the dedication, the sweat beads on their temples as pens scribble furiously across paper booklets attempting to squeeze out every ounce of information they’ve shoved in the brain.

I’m so impressed by the boys – they don’t have issues following the rules, they arrive on time, they read the instructions and sit in the correct rows, and they write.

I do believe though, that some of them are still learning how to study properly – to learn whether they are group studiers, or solo studiers, studiers to music (edm, lyrical or classical) or pin drop silence, whether they study in their rooms, or at the kitchen table with easy access to food.  I think a lot of them still have yet to figure this lesson out.  However, many still have time, so they’ll get there.

However, I return to my point as a teacher – once we create the assessment, and the student completes it under the designated circumstances, we then have to mark.  I am always amazed at how tall the pile of marking becomes, especially around exam time.  I have resorted to late nights, Coca-Cola and marking at my best friend’s house to stay on task.  Sometimes, it seems unending.  Sometimes, I laugh when my red pen runs out of ink.  Other times, I curse the marking and really wish it would be over.

Regardless, it is a vicious cycle of creating, writing and marking assessments.  In case you were still wondering boys, it’s not always fun for us either as teachers.

You’re assigning a project?

I’ve learned a lot of lessons this year (some of which extend directly from teaching at a boys school), and as I find time this summer to reflect on them, I’ll pause and take a moment here and there to share them with you.  Some will be serious, others in jest or humorous, but all are intended to be reflective.

Let me discuss assigning projects.  My boys, especially my younger students, get SUPER excited when you tell them that we’re going to work on a project, so much so, they actually stop listening to the instructions.  There is always a moment at the end when I stop my explanation and ask something along the lines of “are you ready?” and then I get this look…

And then all I want to do is sigh and scream at the same time…because then the questions start.  All of which I’ve just explained.  My patience is tested.  My students’ ability to reason and use common sense is put to the test.  In essence, we are all pushed to the limit and we all pray that it all turns out ok in the end.

 

They grow up when you’re not looking…

I’m not a parent at this point in my life, but as a teacher I often spend a LOT of time with students – from conversations at lunch time to life advice in the middle of a hallway, from extra help sessions to international trips.  Sometimes, you meet kids in their final year of high school and have an accelerated relationship with them (kind of like my current IB2s) and other times you have students that you’ve known since grade 7.

This particular group I’m referring to graduated high school today.  When I first met them, they were short, keen, and kind of goofy grade 7s.  We spent an entire year together, which at times, felt like an eternity because they had boundless energy and I hadn’t taught grade 7 until them.  I spent my first month trying to figure out how to harness that.  After that point, we had a blast together.  I made relationship predictions, I teased them about their fast food choices, I taught them how to work together, how to work alone, how to behave, how to communicate effectively with their teachers…and the list goes on. They came in as a little posse for extra help (my little mitzvah crew).  They fiercely searched for answers and tirelessly gave effort to anything I threw their way.  They quickly became some of my favourite kids.  We parted ways after grade 7 and I didn’t teach them again for a few years.

However, last year, I got to teach them in IB1.  Again, we had a blast.  I talked a mile a minute and they kept up, gobbling up the mathematical gems they were learning.  I gave them assessments that pushed their mathematical knowledge.  I encouraged them in their academic goals as well as their co-curricular passions.  I teased them and talked with them.  They allowed me to teach math and to teach life, two of my favourite topics.

I taught them and they taught me.  Several of the students wrote me emails and asked me to come to their graduation.  I responded that I was teaching at the time, and they asked that I come to the garden party afterward.  I want to pause at this moment to acknowledge just how important this moment was – that my students wanted to share something and wanted me to be there for them at this crossroad.  I showed up at the event (and yes, dressed casually since it was a casual dress day for my school) and as kids saw me, my excitement at their graduating and the promise of their futures filled me with happiness.  I am so proud of where they have come from and the journey they have taken to get to this point.  I hope they are all happy and know that their loved ones are proud of them.

Congratulations my dears!
Rem

Adieu to the IB2s

Dear IB2s,

This blog post / letter is dedicated to you.

Thank you kindly for welcoming me into your UCC world this year.  I can only imagine how difficult it was for you to arrive for your final year and get a new teacher, someone you didn’t know, didn’t yet trust and weren’t sure would help you get to the end.  It was just as unnerving to show up in an IB2 class, with no reputation  or “street cred” (as I grew up saying) from past UCC years to pull out of my back pocket.  I’m sure many of you were wary; however, you kindly kept those worries at bay or those thoughts to yourself.

It was challenging being a new teacher at UCC this year, fully comprehending the weight of this final year for you. I can only express that I am grateful for the chance you gave me and that you let me in to your world.  I am aware that you probably did some digging and sussed me out (which is quite normal) and decided (after sourcing out your information carefully) that I would do a good job.

I appreciate that we got to know one another, that you trusted that I would answer the door when you knocked to ask a question, that you knew I’d take the time to help you, no matter when or how long it took.  I appreciate that we got to relax and have fun in class too, that we could joke around and laugh but also get down to the serious business of getting you prepared for your exams.

I love the end of the IB2 year, the official celebration of completing the diploma programme, but also attaining your high school diploma.  I am thoroughly sentimental about it.  I appreciated being invited to the leaving class dinner and thought that the time you all took to swing by and say hello, thank you and goodbye was touching.  I was so impressed (but not surprised) by your classiness before, during and after the meal.  You are a great bunch of guys and it has been an absolute pleasure teaching you.

I wish you all the best as you head out into the world, off of UCC campus.  Do know that regardless of how far away you go, what adventures you embrace and challenges you tackle, I wouldn’t expect anything less of you, and do hope you’ll stay in touch.

Congratulations boys,

Remtulla

 

Teacher Boredom

Here’s a teacher truth for you – teachers get bored sometimes.  Maybe it’s just me (but I highly doubt that).  Let me clarify that it’s not that I don’t have work to do – I do!  Creating assessment tasks, marking, working on course work, etc.  I could even plan for next year, if I was so inclined; however, at this moment in time, I am not.

So instead – I’ll organize clean.  I did that the other day.  I cleaned the math tutorial room just prior to the arrival of our interns.  Then, last week hit and this is what I did:

 

Dissecting the Semi-Formal

In my time as a teacher for the past 10 years, I have chaperones many dances – regular fall dances, semi-formals and of course, proms.  This was my first semi-formal at UCC.  I will take a few sentences to dissect the event.

First off, it was a good venue and a lovely evening.

Second, male dress code – the boys were quite spiffy in their suspenders and bow ties, or full suits.  If only they could have stayed immaculately dressed by the time they left.  Shirttails hung out everywhere and some suspenders had come unclipped.

Third, female dress code – I felt that the coloured saran wrap barely covering any skin needed to be addressed.  I know teenage boys didn’t see much wrong with it, but I do think that maybe it’s time to let females know that when there is a dress code, they should adhere to it and maybe work on the “classy” factor.

Fourth, the doors opened at 8:00pm, closed at 9:30pm and the event ended at 11:00pm.  At 9:30pm, there was a mass exodus.  By 10pm, I was sitting in my car speaking to my best friend, never having wrapped up at an event that early.  I laughed.  Perhaps attending the event for longer than 15 minutes is something the boys will consider as they get older.  Here’s hoping…

Clock Tower Moment

One of the things I love about my school is that we have traditions.  Traditions that are decades old.  Sometimes only rumoured, definitely secretive, but wonderful and emotional when you get to be a part of them.

Last week, I was a part of the final pancake breakfast for the IB2 students in my house, Howard’s.  B, my Senior House Advisor, had arranged that the boys could go up to the clock tower.  Climbing up steel ladders, hearing only the awed whispers of boys as they pass names of boys they’ve known, teachers they admired and friends they have.

We reached the top, and we all sought out a place to sign our names – a place for posterity, to join in the tradition of UCC students and faculty of the past, but also to join what would become the future for others to come.