A Letter to Parents

Dear Parents of my Students,

I am writing you this letter to let you know that we are on the same team. It may not always feel like it, but we are. We both want your child to succeed in English class this year, to learn a lot, to improve in writing and reading and grammar usage. We also want your child to be responsible, kind to others, and hard working. Above all, we both want your child to be happy and to be close to God.

You should know that I love all of my students, including your child.

I hope you know it would be much easier for me, as a teacher, to just give everyone a “good” grade. I would avoid a lot of angry emails from you that way and a lot of hurt feelings and a lot of heartache.

But what is easy isn’t always right.

I hope you know that when I give your child a grade, I am not grading your child at all. I am assessing his work. I am trying to give him as accurate feedback as possible on what he has demonstrated he has learned, and what he has demonstrated he hasn’t learned yet. Your child’s grade in my class is a grade he has earned.

So when you say to me, “My child is not a D student!”– I completely agree. She might have a D in my class right now, but she is not a “D student.” There is no such thing as a D student–or, I might add, a “B student” or “A student.” Because, whether or not he or she is doing well in my class, your son or daughter cannot be defined by a mere letter grade.

The grade merely attempts, as accurately as possible (but certainly not perfectly) to reflect the learning your child has demonstrated so far.

I am on your team. I love your son or daughter and I hold them to high expectations not in spite of, but because of that love.

I promise to give them help, support, encouragement, and guidance. I promise to show my own love of learning and of English literature.

Anything you can do to support that effort is greatly appreciated. You are the primary educator of your son or daughter and I very much honor and respect that huge responsibility. I honor the fact that you are making many sacrifices to send your child to a Catholic school. I thank you for entrusting your child to me. I can only imagine how challenging it is to be the parent of a teenager, and I know you are doing your best. You have your own crosses to carry every day that I know nothing about.

I ask you to believe that I, too, am doing my best. I ask you to respect my professional background, my dedication, my experience, and my dignity during parent-teacher conferences this week.

Let’s work together for your child.

Sincerely,

Ms. Shea

What Education Can’t Fix

I’ve been having a lot of good–but difficult–conversations with teachers about the state of Catholic education in the United States.

And as I was talking to one of my former ACE roommates about all the struggles I’m having this year with my kids, I realized something that maybe I had only been aware of before on a subconscious level.

Education can’t fix the problems it faces.

That sounds pessimistic. But it’s true.

And maybe also a little bit liberating.

I was frustrated a few days ago with a kid who did not come to finish an essay we had written in class. I was offering her support and extra help, and she did not come after school even after I had reminded her. And then I reminded her the next day and she did not come. And I had made myself available during lunch this time even though originally I had planned on trying to keep my lunchtimes this year. I was upset. Why oh why won’t you come when I am bending over backwards trying to help you?

And suddenly, later, on the phone with my ACE friend, I realized — this kid doesn’t really give a damn about my essay. And that’s kind of reasonable. From the little I know about her situation, she has so much going on at home that if I were her I wouldn’t give a damn about some essay either. She has bigger battles she’s fighting.

I mean, she still has to write that thing and I reminded her again today and she did come, thank goodness.

But sometimes as a teacher I get so caught up in my goals for my kids– or the curriculum standards — that I lose some perspective.

And I starting feeling like it’s my job to “save” them, when of course that’s God’s job.

But I think all educators–not just Catholic ones– are suffering from an identity crisis. We think that education can save these kids from their apparently grim destinies. But although a good education can make a big difference, it is not the only thing.

We get kids with learning disabilities. We get kids from broken homes. We get kids who have never met their dads. We get kids whose parents are struggling to pay the bills. Many of these parents — for all of our Catholic talk of “primary educators”– do not have the time or resources to read to their kids or get them books or help them with homework. Some of them may not know how to read well or at all. Indeed these parents are the primary educators, but many of them do not have the ability to educate. And no matter how good a school is, a school cannot fill the role of a parent.

Education isn’t just trying to overcome ignorance– its trying to overcome material poverty and broken families and cultural decay and entitlement and prejudice and despair.

But really all educators can do is try to teach kids who may be unwilling or exhausted or distracted by bigger problems.

Even the best charter school networks with all the money and resources and professional development and “best practices” in the world cannot quite make up for those things.

All we can do is help. All we can do is love our students and hold them to high expectations and give them the support they need to meet those expectations. And some of them will get there, and some of them won’t.

As Mother Teresa says, “We are not called upon to be successful, but to be faithful.”

Let’s be faithful to our students and leave the success part to God.

images
via Roy Bennet @ InspiringThinkn

 

Retakes and Repentance

Usually when I write a blog post, I sit on it for a day or two and reread it a few times before hitting “publish” and unleashing my stream-of-consciousness onto the internet.

Unfortunately, I didn’t do that the other day with the post “Retakes as Mercy.”

I was feeling fired up and published that post without reflecting on my tone. And although I still stand by the heart of what I said, I want to apologize for some of the things the post may have implied about teachers who don’t necessarily agree with me. There are many wonderful teachers out there who do not agree with an “assessments only” or a “retake policy”, and they are wonderful, merciful, Christlike teachers.

Clearly, every year I am trying to grow as a teacher and I certainly am not perfect. Maybe some of the ideas I adhere to so passionately today I may have to revise in the future when I learn more.

First of all, I should have clarified that because I am only a high school English teacher, I do not know how an assessments-only policy and a retake policy would work in other subject areas or for other student age-levels. I can only speak from my own experience that it has worked well for my kids.

Second of all, there might be many other ways of showing mercy to students besides allowing retakes. Some teachers allow test corrections, for example, which I think is a great idea.

Third, a friend reminded me that repentance is an essential part of Church teaching on mercy. God always offers us His mercy, but we cannot receive it unless we repent. Repentance opens us up to mercy.

So, if you want your grading policy to reflect mercy, you also need to make sure it makes room for repentance. I try to do this in my own retake policy, but I can see how students might take advantages of the policy and not use it the right way.

I’m not trying to suggest that failing a quiz because you honestly did not understand the concept is a sin and therefore requires repentance–it’s not and it doesn’t.

But laziness is a sin. Assuming you’re all set without honestly preparing or quizzing yourself–that is, pride–is a sin. Making excuses or blaming others instead of taking responsibility for one’s own learning–vanity or dishonesty–those are sins. And they are all sins by which high school students are tempted and to which many of them succumb to from time to time.

Teachers sometimes succumb to them as well.

I firmly believe that grades should reflect learning. And I firmly believe that one’s grading policy should reflect mercy.

But your grading policy must also encourage repentance–the only way human beings can open themselves up to mercy.

It is important to remember that different teachers may have very different ways of encouraging both mercy and repentance.