Not in the Lesson Plan

I have never, in all my years combined, missed as many days of school as I have this year. Without double-checking, I believe I just exceeded a dozen days and I have a few more already on the schedule before the year is through.

My classes have struggled in my absence, the same way they struggle in any of their classes or specials when there is a substitute. It has little to do with me, although I wish beyond wishes that I knew how to help students grow and employ personal moral codes that would encourage them internally to make good choices and not to just exhibit good behavior when they are in fear of being caught. But that’s a topic for another day.

Today, I was at school, but my co-teacher was not and her class really struggled during the morning. Really struggled. Our Dean of Students stepped in and spoke with them – saying, I am certain, many of the same things she and others have said to them before when I was absent and they made similarly bad choices. By the time they came to me, at our after-lunch switch, I felt stuck between wanting to say or do something to make them change and yet not wanting to be one more adult harping on them for the same poor choices. i know that we have taught the expected behaviors. I know we have taught them over and over. I know that we’ve tried praise. I know that we’ve tried rewarding the good behaviors. I know that we’ve even bribed and offered incentives. And I know we’ve laid the hammer down as well. At this point, I wasn’t even sure what more to say or do.

But last Friday and again this morning at our staff meeting, we had brief presentations about restorative justice or talking circles. These conversations at our staff meetings were meant to be an introduction to us about the practice, although I think many of us have heard of the idea and even used a variation of the theme during our years on staff. While I would consider myself far, far, from “trained” on the matter, I decided then and there to just try it. To try something. To just change things up and see if I could somehow get through to these kids. More than that, I wanted these kids to get through to each other. And I thought the circle might help give a voice to them all in a way that might promote change.

We shoved the tables out of the way and the students sat down in a big circle. It took a moment or two until we could all get settled and another moment for me to find a “talking stick” which ended up being my empty water bottle, but it would do. I joined the circle and took a deep breath, trying to remember what ground rules I should talk about before we got started.

Even as I explained what we were going to do, kids were already nodding. People kept knocking on our door for a whole variety of reasons and the kids were getting frustrated – they wanted to do this thing – but we stayed patient and were finally able to begin.

We made a lap around our circle to talk about how the morning’s learning environment, or lack thereof, had made each of the students feel. The talking stick passed through many hands in silence before it finally came to a brave student willing to break the ice, but then the flood gates opened. Many thoughts were shared. Frustrations, disappointments, worry, anxieties. It felt very open and very honest for a group trying such a conversation for the first time.

The second lap, we tried a different question. I asked them to reflect on how they thought the kids who made good choices came to do so. What did it take? How are some kids capable of doing that when others struggle? Lots of great ideas were shared.

Both laps had revealed that the issues earlier in the day had been caused by many of the students. No one had named names, no fingers had been pointed, but it was clear that it was a massive group and not just the usual few. This had been a large scale issue and it had caused large scale feelings.

I took a risk with my third lap around, wondering if I was breaking every rule, but I really wanted the kids to truly hear each other. The third lap I told them that they could say something specific to someone specific, but it absolutely had to be done with kind intent. I demonstrated using the name of our fictitious naughty student, George, whom I often use as my “what not to do” example. I said to the circle, “For example, if I am particularly frustrated with what George did this morning, I might say to him, ‘George, I think you are wickedly funny! You crack me up all the time! But when we are in the middle of the math lesson, that’s just not the time. I really need to hear what’s being taught. Tell me at lunch. That would be a great time to make me laugh!”

Nods all around my circle.

And so it went. The kids who had been the instigators and even some who had followed into bad choices passed the water bottle without a word. And the others, in such tremendously kind ways, told their peers how much they really liked them, but what needed to be different, especially with a substitute.

We had taken an enormous amount of time, but I had the kids do one last lap. Our last lap we told one thing that we loved about this class of kids. I wanted us to end on a positive note and I wanted them to see how much of a family they really are.

On that last lap, one of the students said, “I really like this class. And I really liked this process. It showed us different perspectives and that we all have a voice and maybe that will help us to change.”

I probably did it a hundred ways wrong, but I think, for us, just for the moment, we got at least a couple things right.

And for Chris, thank you for reminding me about this practice. You saved me twice today.