Small Slow & Stupid

I began taking class time many years ago to get the point across to my students that they are not the only ones in the room watching. Just as they have five or six teachers to follow each day, that I was also watching them. Most other teachers are as well. I wanted them to know just how they appeared. I began illustrating to them just how their actions (from silly things like the way they raised their hands or the way they walked) looked to me and questioning just what their message was. I turned it into a class discussion that I’ve continued for decades. What I found was surprising and rewarding for both of us. Here are my two main take-aways: [1] Our students have little idea what they look like to us, much less any message they are portraying. [2] Teenage students love to talk about themselves and to be reflective about their actions. Within this discussion is a message of change: they have changed a ton from adolescence to young adulthood, and they’ve never really given this change thought – much less discussed it with an adult. We talk about how they only focus on the “now” in their worlds. Today’s tests… today’s friends… today’s feel… are all they are used to and therefore all they know at this time. In the same way we are all shocked to see a picture of ourselves from four years ago, my seniors are surprised to consider how much they’ve changed socially and behaviorally in the same amount of time. They see one day or a small span of days. They plan for small actions and occurrences only. This school life and young adult journey they are so used to is their only experience, and they shouldn’t confuse being “used to” it as “having arrived” anywhere. Our talk affirmed the feelings they have had inside. They laughed. We talked about who they were, who they are, and possible reasons why. We discussed the way they act and how it makes others feel. Most notably, we forecasted change in their lives ahead and made clearer the possibility that lies in front of them (and us all). We made fun of each other a bit, and then we get to the point of the little “life lesson” here. None of us have arrived. There’s more. We’re not done becoming more until we’re dead. We shouldn’t stop trying, because we’re not who we’re gonna be yet. I present this lesson to students by saying there’s an “altitude” to their lives. Such that when you’re a newborn, you can only see a small bubble surrounding you. You know of only your mother and perhaps some other shapes, feelings, etc. and can thus only see maybe some four feet up away from your crib on which you lay. As you get older you can sit up which enables you to see even further. The more you see, the more you’re aware. The more you are aware the more you can experience. The more you can experience the more you can know and do. As a baby begins to stand in a crib or play pen, it can see and experience more. Soon a baby can crawl and move about. With that comes many new experiences and their sphere of knowledge grows and grows (as if they are looking down from higher and higher above). With every stage of life comes new opportunity and therefore new experiences. This is how we gain intelligence. This is how we change and grow “higher and higher” in the altitude of our lives. And this is what I have observed teens do over a period of four years or so during high school. Getting them to see just how they’ve changed and how much more is to come is our challenge… and the goal of this book.