Giving Thanks

It is tempting to fall into the pop trap of creating a catalog of things I’m thankful for about Chinquapin. I won’t do that however long the list is, because I don’t want to trivialize my thanks into a kind of advertisement. My thanks are deep and wide. Let me try to express something of them here.

I am thankful for the leadership of Chinquapin. From its earliest days, its leadership has been inspired. From all I have read and heard, Bob Moore must have been one doozy of an educator, but he and Chinquapin’s other early designers also made so many right decisions to guide the school successfully – among them the desire to create an educational setting away from the negative distractions of the students’ lives, also imbuing the school with a meaningful quid pro quo philosophy that binds the students to the school they serve and that serves them -- they earn my deep respect and thanks.

Closer to home for me is the leadership provided by Bill and Kathy Heinzerling. Each embodies a seemingly boundless commitment to the school that earns the respect of everyone who comes in contact with it. More than serving as models of dedication to this cause we believe in, however, they direct the school as exemplars of democracy, decency, and empathy. I don’t mean to make them sound like saints. Anyone who has experienced Bill’s slightly off-color humor or Kathy’s growls of frustration knows that these two complementary forces are real people who relate to all of us as real people deserving of respect and dignity and love. They are not the kind of walking egos who allow their own sense of self to get in the way of meaningful interactions with the people with whom they are working side by side. I am thankful for Bill’s overwhelming kindness, a quality that imbues his leadership, as it does his teaching, with humanity. I am thankful for Kathy’s straightforward, no-nonsense advice, for her patient listening when I have been worked up over a problem, for her wise way of seeing through to the core of things. Together, they are one powerful pair. I’m thankful for that too.

Early in my career, before I went into teaching, I remember being envious in more than one instance of offices or groups of people who worked together towards a common cause in seemingly blissful harmony. It’s not that these were Stepford Offices; rather, there was an aura of purposeful camaraderie and pleasure in working together that emanated from them. The places where I worked, in contrast, were divided by political in-fighting or dominated by personalities loaded with so much psychological baggage they trampled the rest of us because they simply could not see where they were going. So what I want to say is that I am thankful for the atmosphere of congeniality and shared purpose that is created by the faculty and staff at Chinquapin. I have been warmly welcomed, trusted and listened to, respectfully engaged and challenged. I have found in Chinquapin one of those special places I was always so envious of.

I am thankful for Chinquapin’s students, too, who are the reason we’re here. Though they are not always easy to teach, they are easy to love. Their desire to learn inspires me to find ways to teach them better, give them more. Even the students who trouble us are often seeking knowledge and ways of learning outside the scope of their classes. We may think of these things – sports, personal relationships, the Internet -- as distractions, but we have to respect our students’ desires to expand their knowledge beyond the streets of their neighborhoods. Then there are other students who eat up what we feed them in the classroom. They are hungry; they are becoming gourmets of learning. We should all be thankful for that, and strive to provide more than just the bland stuff of your average public school. They are hungry, also, for us to show them how to succeed, how to make something of themselves. How inspiring is that.

I am thankful for the beautiful, comfortable campus that makes me smile every time I step out of my car in the morning or when I walk across the quad to a class. I am thankful for the freedom I am given to teach what works, to experiment (and sometimes fail). I am thankful for the forward-thinking donors to the school, to its dedicated board whose personal, gut-level attachment is evident in all they do. I’m thankful for the gracious help my husband and I received when we moved here. I am thankful for “a room of my own,” the office where I can meet with teachers and students and work effectively. I am thankful for the thanks I have received – I feel appreciated. I am thankful for the good people of Chinquapin, the good it does, the good it can engender.

Winding Down

Graduation has come and gone. The summer sessions are over. We finally have a chance to clean out the debris accumulated in our offices, to meet colleagues for lunch, to have meetings on those projects that we discussed all through the year.

Yet there's that let-down feeling hovering in the air. What to do with ourselves? Where to focus?

Reflecting on a remarkable year, I have to say that I am astonished at what we accomplish with our students. They deserve much credit. They come to class, for the most part, with the idea that they want to learn. This is an essential ingredient that we must constantly strive to capitalize on. This is what should be at the forefront of our minds when we tend to be distracted by the few students who disappoint or frustrate us. It is our jobs as teachers to keep that positive energy flowing, to keep feeding the hungry minds. If we don't, we lose them. They'll go somewhere else for satisfaction. We are lucky to have students who want to learn in our classes, and we need to remember that.

I am thinking a lot about themes that emerged from the students' evaluations of their classes. This is where they get to speak to us directly about how they learn and what they want. Despite what some teachers think (as they become preoccupied with those few slackers once again), the students want to learn and want us to teach them in a way that they can learn. They are ecstatic when a class goes well.

Two other themes emerge. One is how sensitive students are to our moods. We often think of them as impervious to adults, but they are really constantly reading us. Sure, we should be allowed to be human and express real feelings to them. But we may also have to explain those expressions, to interpret them for the students, so that they don't misunderstand. And huge, seemingly unexplained fluctuations in temperament are really upsetting to them.

The other theme I want to talk about is our role as figures who can inspire and motivate. Our students want to be inspired and motivated, to be uplifted, to be encouraged. I'm sure all students need this, but our students need it a hundredfold. Thus, we need to be conscious of how we can turn a negative event or quality into a means for true inspiration. The teachers who can do this have our students greatest admiration -- and I think they deserve it.

More thoughts will come as the summer progresses. What is on your minds?