Schools are social institutions, agents not just of academic education but of socialization and transmission of cultural norms. We must be intentional, critical and reflective when we make choices about how we carry this responsibility. Holidays are just piece of a broader puzzle about inclusion, cultural responsiveness, and equity, but I’ll use this time of year as a good opening for conversation.

Wasn’t teaching supposed to get easier?

It’s been really disheartening to me lately, especially in my role doing online engagement work with Edutopia, to see educators type things along the lines of “I really care about each and every one of my students. Those parents, though…” Another common one is “I can only do so much but those parents need to…those parents should…those parents shouldn’t.” It’s disheartening because I strongly believe that when we make a commitment to support our students as “whole children,” we commit to supporting students in their family and home context. This means pulling family members closer to us instead of writing them off, engaging caregivers even when they frustrate us, and doing everything we can to see past old excuses and blame-based commentary. Saying we support “the whole child” but giving up on parents we perceive as “not involved” is giving up on the child themself.

Unconditional positive regard doesn’t stop when my students walk out the door at 2:15.

The core paradox of teaching is that the work requires us to be both confident and humble, self-assured and self-critical at the same time.

This post is intended to be a jumping-off point for those seeking to become more trauma-informed in their education practice. It is not meant to be an exhaustive list of resources, but rather a collection of accessible places to start to get familiar with concepts and strategies.

“Tough love,” as I understand it, doesn’t serve our students. However, there are valuable aspects to the concept of tough love, and I want to offer an alternative way to talk and think about these concepts.

After something tough happens between ourselves and our students, breaking or testing the positive relationship we’ve built, it’s essential to be intentional in our next steps. This is especially important when the hard situation feels personal, for instance when a student calls me a name, breaks something I own, or otherwise targets me. In these moments when I am feeling overwhelmed or personally attacked, it would be easy to act from a place of reactivity and blame. However, these are the moments where it’s most important that I take the opportunity to “break the script” with my student and work through conflict in a different way.

When people ask me what subject I teach, I never know how to respond. My teaching license is in English Language Arts. My master’s degree is in educational technology. In the past five years I’ve taught science, social studies, art, physical education, and more at our small school, where every teacher flexes to meet our students’ needs.

I’ve been getting more involved lately on Edutopia as a volunteer community facilitator. Here’s a post I put up a couple of days ago on supporting students who experience(d) trauma:

Heading into this school year, a bunch of factors are creating an atmosphere of super-stress for my teachers, beyond the regular stresses of the job (and teaching is not a low-stress job). Beyond our giant and ever-present to-do lists, there are also elements of uncertainty – how will this work out? – and confidence – can I do this? Will we make it?

I hear a lot of conversations in educator spheres about “the power of relationship.” We all know relationship is important; we agree that caring about our students is essential if they are going to trust that they can learn safely in our classes. I’d love to see the conversation turn now to the how of powerful relationship with students. I’m lucky to work in a school where I have the luxury of time and a small ratio to get to know my students well, but I think anyone in any setting can build powerful relationship if they develop the skills to do so.

Make a connection. Instead of “sit and get” professional development, EdCamp requires that you move around, actively participate, and talk to new people. I went to a tech conference in the area last spring and went almost the entire day without having more than a small-talk conversation with anyone – and I’m a pretty social person. It’s pretty impossible to get away with that at an EdCamp – I promise. We’re expecting participants with a wide range of backgrounds and experiences, so take advantage of the cross-pollination and make a connection with someone new.