Between my reading for my graduate courses, the professional development sessions I’ve attended, and the online reading I’ve stumbled upon (See: See Each Other: A New Year’s Resolution for 2015), one big idea has taken up space in my brain this month: How do we show others that we see and hear them? For this month, I’d like to reflect on how this happens when we first build relationships with students. I’ll be continuing this idea in future blog posts :)
First, I’ve realized that all we really want, whether we are a teacher, student, coach, child, parent, spouse, administrator, etc., is to feel that we are seen and heard. This does not mean that others always do as we ask or want, but that our actions and words are acknowledged and considered.
So, how do we show students that we see and hear them the very first time we meet them? An interesting experience inspired by professional development with Laura Gleisner, an ICF certified life and leadership coach, helped give me some insight into this. In her session, she used an activity to promote positive culture. We all shared our 180 Song--a song that when you hear it, immediately elevates your mood, turning your outlook around 180 degrees. Sharing the songs in small groups served two purposes: 1) The mood of the room immediately lifted as people shared their songs. 2) We were able to gain some insight into individual’s personalities, thus seeing and hearing a piece of them, when learning their 180 Song.
Shortly after this, a colleague expressed interest for my support within his ninth grade Global Studies class. We came up with a plan to support readers in his neediest class period that would have me co-teaching 1-2 times a week. The first step in this process would be establishing a relationship with these students, many of whom don’t see themselves as readers. I knew that before I could have open conversations with them around their reading behaviors, I needed them to see me as a regular part of the classroom, even though I’m not there daily. We were a few weeks into the school year and this class had already established a culture. What I noticed in my first few minutes of this class was, first, even though many students seemed disengaged from the learning process, they loved and respected their teacher. Second, when I was introduced as a reading specialist/literacy coach, many openly expressed their dislike for reading, i.e., there was a lot eye rolling going down.
[Side Note: Something important to know about me is that I love eye rolling! Maybe this is why teaching eighth grade is my favorite? I see an eye roll as a challenge--a challenge for me to figure out what will engage the person rolling their eyes at me, a challenge to build a trusting relationship with someone who has different viewpoints from my own, a challenge to push us to grow in our learning together. My most common response when seeing someone roll their eyes at me is some version of the following statement (tailored to my audience): “I’m sensing some discomfort. Please be open with me about how you are feeling. I want to know your true thoughts on this because then we can figure out a way to approach the situation together and in a way that makes us both feel comfortable.”]
So, back to the ninth grade class groaning and rolling their eyes at me…
After explaining my role, I made clear that the purpose for my visit today was to get to know them. All they had to do was think of their 180 Song and I would be checking in with them during the class period about it. I’m sure I made a fabulous impression on them when I shared my current 180 Song--”Bad Blood” by Taylor Swift. I then spent the whole class period walking around the room, stopping by students to meet them, learn their name, and ask them the title and artist of their 180 Song. I then wrote it down in my notebook. That was it. No hard questions about their reading habits, likes and dislikes, etc., just their name and 180 Song. The conversations all were short, simple, and went well--except one. When I met Cole (name changed), he was talking with his neighbor when he was supposed to be reading, he didn’t have his materials with him, and he answered my questions with questions while giggling, trying to impress the girl near him. The conversation was pretty much a wash, but after repeating myself calmly a number of times, I got his 180 Song and name out of him. I could have gone into a lecture on what he was supposed to be doing; I could have asked him to treat me with respect; I could have addressed the girl he was giggling with, but I didn’t. I wrote down his name and the song and thanked him, knowing a little more about Cole than just those two things. At the end of the class period, I announced to the whole group that my goal was to listen to each one of their songs by the next time I was in class. This statement was also met with a lot of groaning and eye rolling.
So then, I listened to the songs, paying special attention to Cole’s song. It was a challenging song to listen to, and very different from my musical tastes, but I worked really hard to figure out one positive thing to say about it in case the time came to share it with Cole.
A week flew by and I found myself back in Cole’s class. The goal for my work today was to help the students pick independent reading books. (You might be asking yourself, “Independent reading books in Global Studies class?” More about the exciting things our Global Studies teachers are doing in future posts!) We were meeting in the library, and I was going to support them in their book selections, reading along with them for the class period. Before we dispersed to find books, I told everyone that I listened to their songs. Cole immediately perked up in his seat, and stated, “Even mine?! What did you think?” Thankfully prepared, I answered, “Yes, I did! At first it was really mellow and then it got really intense. That is quite a song!” A look of awe came over Cole’s face that I can’t explain. I, meanwhile, was doing a mental fist pump.
About twenty minutes later, as I chatted with a group of girls about their book selections, I felt a presence behind me. I turned around and came face to face with Cole. I looked over his shoulder and saw a group of his friends goofing off in the corner of the library, but then asked him if I could help him with something. He mumbled that he needed a book. I asked him about his reading interests and if he was looking for longer or shorter texts, and he mumbled back that shorter would be better, never making eye contact (can those of you familiar with adolescents picture this?!). I escorted Cole over to the magazines as I thought that this would be a good type of text to start with. This also helped him get out of the direct eyesight of his friends (still goofing off in the corner). Once we got to the magazines, I asked him about his hobbies and the floodgates opened. In the next five minutes I learned that Cole lives with his dad on acreage in the country, loves hunting and dirt biking, struggles with staying focused while reading, gets frustrated in school, misses his mom, and is fairly new to the area. Cole walked away with a dirt bike racing magazine and settled in a corner away from his friends to read. I, meanwhile, was mentally dropping the mike and walking off stage. Just kidding, I was in shock at what had just happened!
Did I cast some magical spell over Cole that made him want to spent the class period engaged in reading? I literally knew the kid for five minutes and he did today exactly what we expected and wanted after being the most challenging student last week. How could this be?
My theory is this: By listening to Cole’s 180 Song, I saw and heard him. The relationship of trust began to build on something that simple. I took three minutes out of my day and listened to a song that hurt my ears, trying to find something positive to let Cole know that I found value in his song choice. For three minutes, I saw and heard him loud and clear. And, to be honest, what I learned from those songs about all the students helped me understand them more deeply than I expected. It has become a starting point of conversation many times as I continue to work in the classroom.
I wish I could tell you how Cole is doing now, but he moved away two weeks after this conversation. Would he have continued this trend if he had stayed? Would our relationship have grown to support deeper conversations around his challenges with school? I don’t know, but I’d like to hope that it would have. I hope wherever he is, the idea of a 180 Song has stuck with him.
And, I hope the idea of asking people about their 180 Song sticks with you! Who knew such a simple question could be a foundation for great relationships? Thanks again for this golden nugget, Laura!
So, I leave you with two final questions:
P.S. - My current 180 Song is “Alive” by Sia. When things are so challenging, it is so important to remember that “I’m still breathing...I’m alive.” It is dance party time whenever I hear this song!
