In a little over a week, I’ll be standing at the door to my classroom, waiting to greet my new students. I have seniors for English Language Arts, and I’ll also have one section each of sophomores and juniors for the reading intervention I lead.
For the past few weeks I’ve been analyzing my scope and sequence, reviewing my summative assessments, and examining data from last year. Last week I met with colleagues to plan and prepare. This week I’ll be in my classroom arranging desks, putting up decor, and finalizing my lesson plans.
As I move closer and closer to being with my students, I am beginning to wonder what their summer has been like.
Mine was filled with family, wedding preparation, food, celebration, and time in the garden, with friends, and in long, luxurious reading sessions.
To be honest, with all the activity around here, I haven’t given much thought to what my students have been up to.
Have some of them had summer jobs? Have others been responsible to care for younger siblings at home?
Have they spent time with their friends or family?
Have they had plenty to eat? Have they been safe? Have they suffered a loss?
Are they ready to come back to our building — to the predictability, the routine, the familiar faces?
Do they have what they need to feel comfortable walking through those doors on day one?
I don’t know.
What I do know is that we’re changing things up for our students this year, and change is hard. When teachers learned last week that we’d changed from a block schedule (four 100-minute periods a day) to a traditional schedule (seven 50-minute periods a day), there was some scuttlebutt in the room. The rhythm in the building will be different — students will get up and move every hour, and seven times a day the halls will be teeming with the entire student body. The goal? That each student will interact with each of their teachers every day.
Ultimately, the change will benefit both teachers and students. Our data shows us that our students need more “at-bats” — they need to touch math every day, practice language arts principles every day, and get micro doses of science each day. We moved to the block schedule during Covid to simplify virtual instruction — to give teachers more time with each class to get connected, to build a sense of community, and to be able to touch base with each of the students within the confines of the zoom room. When we returned to in-person learning, we kept the block schedule to minimize the amount of change that our teachers and students were managing. We remained in the block schedule last year, but as June rolled around and the data came in — low attendance, low test scores, low family engagement — we had to take a look at making some changes.
We’ve got to see our students every day. We’ve got to build a stronger sense of community and belonging. We’ve got to strengthen connections with our families, to clearly convey the fact that we want their students to succeed — in high school, but more importantly, beyond high school. We’ve got to build strong relationships so that our students and their families can see the why of education — the possibilities it provides, the doors it opens.
And in order for our students and families to be able to buy in, they need to be able to trust us — their teachers, their staff, their administrators — they need to see that we are for them, and that can only happen over time and with plenty of reps.
The good news is that we have a strong, committed staff. We routinely retain over 90% of our teachers. Inside an environment like ours — one with 100% free and reduced lunch, 99% students of color, and a history of educational inequity — this kind of loyalty is rare. Our teachers function like a family — one that cares wildly for its kids.
These teachers and administrators, seeing the data and recognizing the work it would take to reconfigure their instructional plans into a different model, took a collective deep breath and got busy. They want their “babies” to have what they need — mastery of content, success in the classroom, an opportunity to move beyond the high school to other worlds they have not yet dreamed of. And because of that, they are willing to do the hard work — not only of reconfiguring their plans, but of communicating their buy-in to a few hundred teenagers who will likely have some opinions about this change.
I can see it now. I’ll be standing at my door next week wearing the stupid grin I always wear on the first day back to school — man I love love school! — and the students will start showing up at my door.
“Mrs. Rathje, what’s up with this schedule?”
“We’ve got seven classes every day?!”
“Ya’all doing too much!”
“I’m already ready to go back home!”
It’s the sound of discomfort around change. They had pictured what this first school day would look like, but when they arrived, reality didn’t match expectations. And if you’ve lived through some trauma, which most of our students have, the unexpected can be unsettling. So, I’ll want to hear my students. I’ll want to acknowledge that they are experiencing something new, and I’ll want to assure them that everything will be ok.
“Yes. The schedule is different this year. Yes. We’ve got seven classes every day. Yes. It’s going to feel like a lot for a minute. And, yes, I am sure you feel like going home. Let’s look at your schedule together. What period do you think you’ll enjoy the most? What time do you have lunch? When will I see you each day?”
I’ll want to come beside my students. I’ll want to let them know that although change can be intimidating, it can also bring a freshness, a new outlook, an opportunity for something different.
They won’t believe me right away. Life has taught the students of today to be wary — to be suspicious — to anticipate the other shoe to drop. So, I’ll have to encourage them to hang in there, to give it a try, to go through the motions, to watch and see.
They’ll grumble, but most will find a seat. They’ll engage in whatever silly gathering activity I lead them through, some rolling their eyes and exuding disinterest or annoyance. I’ll reward any tiny glimpse of compliance, engagement, or cooperation, and I’ll work hard to call each student by name beginning on the very first day. I’ll share my interests with them by showing this slide:
Then I’ll invite them to make something similar to share with the class. Some will love the opportunity to have the spotlight. Others will beg me to let them just show me — not the rest of the class.
I’ll begin to see who my students are, and they will begin to see me. That will be the start — of relationship, of trust, of finding a space in which to learn and grow.
My students might be uncomfortable with change — most of us are — but this teacher has been through enough change to know that possibility lives on the other side. I won’t get it all right, but hopefully I can be a reassuring voice as we move through this change together.
I’ll let you know how it turns out, of course, and I would love your prayers and encouragement along the way.
Therefore encourage one another and build up one another, just as you also are doing.
I Thessalonians 5:11
*If you are able, support or encourage a teacher in your life. If you would like to support me and my students, email me at krathje66@gmail.com and I’ll send you my wishlist.
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