Lazy.
Dumb.
Trouble.
Attitude.
She must have been forced to take Spanish. She doesn't want to be here and won't do any work until the last week of the semester when she comes whining for extra credit.
I've seen him in the dean's office. I think he lives there.
See that look on her face? That's a look that says that she is here to make my life miserable for 55 minutes a day.
Thoughts like these ran through my mind when I first met my students back in August. None of these assumptions were positive, all of them were based on external appearance and behavior observed during a 55 minute class period, and none of them were actually true. Ever since that day, my students have been chipping away at these theories, sometimes bit by bit as with a chisel, and sometimes with the mighty power of a backhoe tractor.
The guys that I thought would cause trouble? They are kind, ready to help, willing to participate, and eager to learn Spanish. The girls that I assumed were arrogant and conceited? They may be some of the sweetest individuals I know. The students who I expected not to do any work? They are the hardest working ones, asking questions, completing assignments, and showing a deep desire to learn.
It was not until my students began to prove me wrong that I even started to realize what I had done. As I experienced shock after surprising shock, I began to wonder why these revelations were so startling to me. Why was I stunned that Jorge was polite and respectful? Why did it surprise me that Daniela had the highest test score in the class? Why didn't I expect Myron to help his classmates the way he always does? Why couldn't I believe my ears when Maci asked to sit up front so that she could focus better? Why was it surprising the first few times that Steven came in for extra help with verb conjugations?
The answer was that I had not given these students room in my mind to exceed my low expectations. I boxed them in, and when they jumped out of the imaginary boxes that I had created for them upon our first encounter, I was shaken both by their resilience and my error.
Sick to my stomach, I ask myself if I really have embodied the very prejudice that I constantly try to teach my students to challenge. Why did I automatically make assumptions about my students? How often do the people that I pass these judgements upon never get a chance to prove me wrong? Have I failed to notice other students fighting against the labels that I have unfairly placed upon them? How can I refrain from putting people in boxes and labeling them according to my very limited perceptions?
Some of these questions leave me feeling uncomfortable and unsettled. In the discomfort of not fulling knowing how to answer these questions, and sometimes being afriad of what the answers may be, I feel the weight of teaching students who have been misunderstood and mislabeled and I have a renewed resolve to do better. I know that if I am making judgments about my students, it is likely that other members of the community, including teachers, parents, neighbors, and potential employers, are thinking the same things. How can I use my platform as a teacher to also be an ambassador, to advocate for my students so that others may see what they have shown me?
Jorge, Daniela, Myron, Maci, Steven... I am sorry. I was wrong. Thank you for showing me who you are, even when I thought I knew.
Dumb.
Trouble.
Attitude.
She must have been forced to take Spanish. She doesn't want to be here and won't do any work until the last week of the semester when she comes whining for extra credit.
I've seen him in the dean's office. I think he lives there.
See that look on her face? That's a look that says that she is here to make my life miserable for 55 minutes a day.
Thoughts like these ran through my mind when I first met my students back in August. None of these assumptions were positive, all of them were based on external appearance and behavior observed during a 55 minute class period, and none of them were actually true. Ever since that day, my students have been chipping away at these theories, sometimes bit by bit as with a chisel, and sometimes with the mighty power of a backhoe tractor.
The guys that I thought would cause trouble? They are kind, ready to help, willing to participate, and eager to learn Spanish. The girls that I assumed were arrogant and conceited? They may be some of the sweetest individuals I know. The students who I expected not to do any work? They are the hardest working ones, asking questions, completing assignments, and showing a deep desire to learn.
It was not until my students began to prove me wrong that I even started to realize what I had done. As I experienced shock after surprising shock, I began to wonder why these revelations were so startling to me. Why was I stunned that Jorge was polite and respectful? Why did it surprise me that Daniela had the highest test score in the class? Why didn't I expect Myron to help his classmates the way he always does? Why couldn't I believe my ears when Maci asked to sit up front so that she could focus better? Why was it surprising the first few times that Steven came in for extra help with verb conjugations?
The answer was that I had not given these students room in my mind to exceed my low expectations. I boxed them in, and when they jumped out of the imaginary boxes that I had created for them upon our first encounter, I was shaken both by their resilience and my error.
Sick to my stomach, I ask myself if I really have embodied the very prejudice that I constantly try to teach my students to challenge. Why did I automatically make assumptions about my students? How often do the people that I pass these judgements upon never get a chance to prove me wrong? Have I failed to notice other students fighting against the labels that I have unfairly placed upon them? How can I refrain from putting people in boxes and labeling them according to my very limited perceptions?
Some of these questions leave me feeling uncomfortable and unsettled. In the discomfort of not fulling knowing how to answer these questions, and sometimes being afriad of what the answers may be, I feel the weight of teaching students who have been misunderstood and mislabeled and I have a renewed resolve to do better. I know that if I am making judgments about my students, it is likely that other members of the community, including teachers, parents, neighbors, and potential employers, are thinking the same things. How can I use my platform as a teacher to also be an ambassador, to advocate for my students so that others may see what they have shown me?
Jorge, Daniela, Myron, Maci, Steven... I am sorry. I was wrong. Thank you for showing me who you are, even when I thought I knew.
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