Again, I think honesty is key. I don't lie to my students - even when a lie would be convenient or politic. I speak to them the way I speak to adults, and I hold them to the same expectations. Because they know they can trust me not to treat them as intellectually inferior, just experientially disadvantaged, they tend to be willing to come to me for advice on personal matters (which can sometimes backfire - especially in regards to the work/life divide, which you mention below!).
The relationship you’ve built with your students has really resonated with me. I think above school/classroom culture, differentiation, discipline, etc., relationships are key. I want to learn more about how you’ve formed those relationships. How do I get students to respect me as their teacher, but come to me as their confidant? I believe that your grading system is so effective because you’ve already built that relationship. Your students don’t seem to be afraid of the grade, but afraid to disappoint you. At the beginning of each class, you approach them the same way I’ve seen motivational speakers approach their audience. I’ve never considered doing that before, but I think it really plays into fueling your students’ enthusiasm for the day. To be honest, I don’t know if I would come off as genuine and empowering as you do; especially if I were to try it exactly the way you do it, but it is definitely something I want to explore further.
To clarify my grading style for anyone reading, I ask my students what grade they deserve on any "practice" assignment - and very often assign more structured self and peer-grading sheets for larger "performance" assignments. I work during the year to clarify that a grade is NOT a judgement, but rather a guide to success - if a grade is inflated, it does not help, but rather cripples the recipient by creating the false impression of success. In my experience, many graduating seniors find themselves failing out of their freshman year of college due to years of "good grades" - grades given for completion, grades for "effort" - that have completely failed to give those students the feedback and direction they needed to develop real academic skills.
I make this explicit throughout my course, and have found that once students have accepted that I won't let them lie (either to themselves, each other, or me) about a grade, that they tend to be quick to know their own skill level. If anything, they're more likely to underestimate their own performance. Academic independence requires a vast array of particulate skills, and one that I've found is foundational is a clear, concrete ability to self-evaluate.
As for my "motivational" approach, it's one that works for me - but as you noted earlier, each cook (I love that you chose this term over "chef," as I do think teaching, while an art, is also perhaps more importantly a craft - a matter of skill and practice more than concept!) alters recipes to suit his or her own taste.
Your disciplinary techniques are also very different from what I’ve observed from other teachers, and from what I’ve learned in my own classes. I’ve been taught that if you call a student out in front of the class, you are raising their affective filter, and therefore, lowering their desire to learn. But, I’ve noticed that it works for you. It has really made me re-evaluate my stance on what students need from me. Maybe the social cost, if done right, can be more effective than damaging. You’ve shown me that.
Those skills are very much learned ones. I picked up the basis for my style working for the Institute of Reading Development, where I was asked in my first in-person interview what I'd do if I had just asked the class to do something and observed one student who was completely non-compliant. I answered that I would address it quietly after walking over. My interviewer asked me, point-blank, "why not call him out across the room?" I replied with the instinct it seems we all have in this culture: I wouldn't want to make him feel uncomfortable.
The interviewer, who eventually became my teacher-trainer, explained that addressing the action - non-compliance - could be done without emotion, rancor, or any sense of conflict. The importance of making that public, however, was an issue of classroom culture - expectations needed to be non-negotiable, issues needed to be addressed immediately, and making it public saved time that would otherwise be used putting out "smaller fires" on a constant basis.
When I teach my unit on parenting, many students are as shocked as most Western audiences were by Amy Chua's Wall Street Journal article about "Chinese" parenting. On the other hand, by the end of the unit more than half the class found her argument persuasive - that strict discipline early, focusing on the kind of hard work that led to success, could train children to accept tough work as a price they had to pay for the incredible pay-day of real success. While Chua's argument may be extreme, I do think that the "Dr. Spock" era of sponsoring children's "self-esteem" has a lot to answer for in the classroom.
Self-esteem is not something gained through empty compliments or affection; it is something won through hard work and achievement. You mentioned earlier that my students seemed to not want to disappoint me. I think that may be an extension of knowing that if I am disappointed, it is because I - and more importantly THEY - know they're capable of better. I also would like to think that the frequent and specific academic and behavioral praise I offer students has the opposite effect: because they know it's deserved and can only be won through real effort, they value it highly and are willing to work for it.
I think the key is understanding the difference between professional discipline and personal derision, and helping students make that important distinction. Professionally, certain behaviors are unacceptable, and failing to call those behaviors out is a sure-fire way to make students believe that in the great wide world everyone will be so concerned for their personal emotional state that they won't hold them accountable for their ACTIONS.
I'd say the key elements come down to:
1. Let them know you're on their side.
2. Focus on the action, not emotions.
3. Focus on the reasons the action is unproductive FOR THE STUDENT.
4. Provide concrete, rational steps to fixing the issue.
The publicity has to do with establishing classroom culture. I'll call out a student only if I know the behavior's root - if the student's looking for attention and thinks acting out will get positive feedback from peers, then making the conversation public can be a reinforcement of classroom expectations. I'll always include an explanation - something on the order of: "I know you want to goof off, but right now we're working on a skill that's crucial to college success. Even if you don't currently see the use, you're costing everyone else here - whether your realize it or not, by trying for a laugh, you're stabbing them in the back. Sit down and get to work!" I'll do it with volume, but an even tone, and maybe even a bit of a knowing smile if the kid in question needs some warmth. Again, that's my recipe - every cook has to cobble together his or her own.
Some kids do need some privacy - I always try to give it to them. You learn, over time, to identify different kids' cues - some kids act up when upset, others disengage. Every cook needs to learn their tools and ingredients. If a kid needs a quiet approach, I'll use that too.
Take an incident from the other day. Two of my guys got into a brief shoving match. I immediately got one out of the room as quickly as possible. First, I gave him a few minutes outside - I knew he needed to get out of his over-emotional state. When I went out, the conversation was NOT about "what" happened - it was all about consequences and next steps.
I started with compassion: "Are you okay?" When he blew off a little steam, I focused him on consequences: "You aren't at your best right now - I get that. But what you did in there didn't help you any." When he claimed he didn't care, I called him on the lie: "If you didn't care, you wouldn't be upset right now. It's good that you care - but what matters is what you do next. Losing your stuff isn't going to help you get ahold of this; it can only make things worse." I then focused on next steps: "Take a breath. At the end of class, we'll have to talk about this with the principal. Get calm - if you need some time, take it. Think about the audience you'll be talking to, and how your mood, posture, and what you say make arguments - get control of those arguments. If you feel like you can come back in, come ahead, and remember - if you need me, I'm here."
Again, this is an example of a recipe I use with kids who are angry or frustrated and have just badly misbehaved. You learn how to whip up the particular dish to suit the moment, but the basic ingredients tend to be the same four listed above. Of course, I make plenty of mistakes, but as I try to communicate to my students, mistakes are the only way to learn - studying recipes is all well and good, but if you want to learn, get in the kitchen and COOK!
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