Students as other people's children

In the few years I've worked with high school youth, almost all of my favorite memories involve students and their parents.

Lisa Delpit, who I mention in the Why the name? section of this blog, has a book called Other People's Children.  I recommend it. I've found it extremely helpful to look at students as the children of other people.  The extreme majority of whom are loving their kids, fighting and sacrificing for their kids, and trying to navigate complicated relationships with their kids.

Sometimes it's easy to forget that high schoolers, especially the defiant ones, the ones who on the worst days make me think how nice a cubicle must be, are someone's kid.  An example.  One student who as been assigned to my classroom is pretty damn defiant.  He's said things and made certain hand gestures at me that I'm not going to explain here. In the moment, I can have some real negative thoughts about this kid. And it's easy for me to see him in a vacuum, because in an a way classrooms are vacuums. I have a pretty de-contextualized view of this student for 4.5 hours a week.

A few nights ago, I sat down with this student, a few other teachers, his parents and his younger siblings, and an interpreter.  His parents are awesome!  They have high expectations for him.  They want to know from us when he's defiant.  They are noticing he is changing, and have some concerns.  The student's dad shared that he wants to teach his son to treat all people with respect. We were all serious, but had some laughs too. 

Yesterday, when I saw this student again, I thought about his parents.  There was context to this student.  He might be an asshole now, but his parents are cool. He's a teenager, he's changing, and if enough people patiently lift this student up, I think he's going to be okay.  Maybe he'll even thrive. I see this student a lot differently now, as other people's child.

I've sat in meetings with parents and students, and watched how parents look at their children.  With pride, with concern, with annoyance, sometimes with an anger that you see comes from love.  I've seen students laugh with their parents, say nice things to their parents you can tell haven't been said in a while, and also stare at the floor, avoiding eye contact. Perhaps ashamed.

It's all interesting, and it makes me want to step up my game as a teacher.  Other people are trusting me to educate their child.  It's a big deal.  But it also helps me be more patient and more understanding of students, because I see them in the context of their families.

But best of all, the next time this student flips me the bird I can call his dad and know he might miss out on a trip to Mexico this summer!