Thursday, June 21, 2012

lessons from teaching, #1

belief precedes behavior 
“What must underlie successful epidemics, in the end, is a bedrock belief that change is possible, that people can radically transform their behavior or beliefs in the face of the right kind of impetus.  This contradicts some of the most ingrained assumptions we have about ourselves and each other.  We like to think of ourselves as autonomous and inner-directed, that who we are and how we act is something permanently set by our genes and our temperament … We are actually powerfully influenced by our surroundings, our immediate context, and the personalities of those around us… To look closely at complex behaviors like smoking or suicide or crime is to appreciate how suggestible we are in the face of what we see and hear, and how acutely sensitive we are to even the smallest details of everyday life.”
~ Malcolm Gladwell, The Tipping Point, p. 258

Most principals will tell you that classroom control (edspeak: management), is the cornerstone of a successful classroom in the chaotic environment of a large, urban high school.  I had to learn this the hard way, and did not see success in my classroom until I had spent a summer learning, observing, and developing better management methods. 

Rules, however, cannot change outcomes alone.  A student can follow all the rules and still not learn.  While change could not have happened without that control (i.e., it could have been prevented by a lack thereof), when success did come, it did not come simply from having more control.

As Gladwell points out, change – whether in learning, character, outcomes – is susceptible to our “surroundings.”  Rules can limit negative influences, but they cannot create positive belief.  All schools have rules; not all schools create motivation.  One of the real breakthroughs that I have observed in the charter movement is this understanding of environment, and the saturating of a students’ surroundings with mission-oriented, change-creating messaging.   What students see must change first, so that their vision can follow, and then real change can occur.  Unfortunately, many traditional models have the reverse understanding – performance opens doors to new environments.  You must change first. 

I don’t think this understanding is a failure of traditional models themselves.  I think we are wired by Western society to overvalue performance, to think we need to change first in order to create/enter a new environment.   We set up rules to begin to alter our performance – I will study three hours a night, I will limit my “distractions” to one hour, etc.  But we’re still in an environment that is focused on minimum study time, distractions, et al.  Our identity becomes wrapped up in our negatives – our “sickness,” if you will – and we focus on that.  We lose, as Gladwell described it, our “bedrock belief that change is possible.” 

And education is just one example.  This performance-oriented ethos dominates much of our society, including our faith institutions.  We have a history as Americans, emerging as early as the puritanical witch-hunts, of thinking that rules are the point of the Bible.  In response, we try very, very hard to identify faults and “stop sinning.”  We think of religion mainly as moral behavior modification.  At least, I know I did until I was turned on to a sermon responding to these excesses in moralism called “The Expulsive Power of a New Affection” (by Thomas Chalmers, a Scottish pastor)  As the title suggests, he realizes that what overcomes the negative influences in our lives is not strict discipline, but rather a stronger positive passion, a new/renewed love for Christ.  I don’t have to change myself first – I have to change my driving impetus.  We don’t change our beliefs and then join – we change our environment and that changes our beliefs

My students need to be set on fire with a love for learning and surrounded by college banners that direct their dreams.  I’m thankful for schools that do that.  I need to be ignited with a love for God, and examples and stories of people who live that way.  I’m thankful for a Savior who is that example, who came down into my environment and changed it.  

Lessons from Teaching


After spending my past three years teaching in an urban, Title I school, I am currently in the midst of changing jobs – and careers.  Teaching has been an incredibly useful lens for processing my beliefs about society, humanity, and spirituality.  My classroom has been a case study on human nature and interaction; high school students provide delightfully raw and unrefined material for reflection.  I don’t know that any other field can or will supply such clear examples of observable, applied spiritual axioms.  As I transition, I want to take some time, through this series of posts, to distill some of the enduring lessons that I am taking with me.