Being aware of your unseen example

Last week I was observing one of my classes complete an exam whilst sitting on a desk.

I know, I’m the height of professionalism.

As I watched the usual squirms of anguish, punctuated with flashes of inspiration, I noticed the position I was in.

It exactly resembled a teacher I had in high school.

She used to perch on the desk in the exact same way.

I wonder if I subconsciously learnt it from her.

I can assure you, it was not a lesson she intended to pass on.

I can only assume, when it comes to the young chaps sitting her class in the late 1900’s, she didn’t expect there to be any future teachers.

Thus, she wasn’t aware that she was laying a blueprint for someone whom would be at the front of a classroom nearly a quarter-century later.

Frankly, I fall into a similar mindset.

I don’t assume that those within my classroom are the teachers of tomorrow.

I certainly don’t assume that I’ll create a lasting impression even if they do go on to complete a Bachelor of Education.

But there’s a chance that it will be the case.

Just as I assume it was when I was a teen at church.

I don’t presume, as I went through puberty, that many figured that I’d work in youth ministry for over a decade.

But, as I did, I often reflected those whom were in leadership while I was growing up.

I lead like them. I spoke like them. I planned like them.

For better or for worse.

The real message is, when it comes to the way you conduct yourself, be it your quirks, mannerisms, the tone you set, the decisions you make, the process you take to reach those decisions or the way you communicate, all of these can potentially shape someone who will (even decades later) follow in your footsteps.

It’s our duty, therefore, to leave them a worthy example to follow.

Being the silhouette at the front

Last Sunday morning my wife was singing in church.

That’s nothing new, she does so every month or so.

Each time she will be singing, I’ll sit with her in church.

Which means that we will be in the spit seats.

Up front.

Usually the place traditionally reserved for the minister’s spouse.

And, this Sunday, I felt the pressure of a minister’s spouse.

For, I felt on display.

And, honestly, I didn’t feel like performing since I was a little ill.

I would have happily just sat throughout the service.

A chilled non-participate.

Is this the strain that all the minister’s wives I’ve served beside have felt?

Is this why they tend to “volunteer” to be busy during the Sunday service?

Confidence builders

My last post was about Confidence Killers within the church and the classroom.

So, how do you build credibility?

Posses knowledge beyond what’s in the textbook.

Maintain a discussion.

Sprinkle in random interesting details about your topic.

Know the youngsters names.

Give useful feedback.

Apologise when you need to.

This is how you generate confidence in a school or church.

In short, you show that you know what you are talking about.

You make it clear that your interest in the subject is not just superficial.

You show that you care, personally, for those in front of you.

This builds confidence.

Like I wrote about credibility killers, the expectation isn’t that you’re perfect. Nor is it that you’re a walking encyclopaedia.

But, the display of ingrained knowledge, presented in an engaging and personable manner generates confidence from those before you. It shows that you can be trusted in what you say and are safe for them to share what they think.

Confidence Killers

Spelling.

Pronunciation.

Pronouns.

Names.

These are the things which haunt me.

They haunted me as a youth minister.

They haunt me as a teacher.

Why?

Because, if you get them wrong, then they erode confidence.

When you misspell a word on the whiteboard…

When you have a typo in your handouts…

When you don’t know how to say a word…

When you misidentify the gender of a student…

When you don’t know a young person’s name…

These chip away at your credibility.

Of course, no one is perfect.

Teachers and ministers are not cyborgs.

But, if these credibility killers occur regularly, then the professional capital of you being “the expect” in the room diminishes and the secure foundation as someone who cares personally about the youngsters is shaken.

The experience/appreciation ratio

This afternoon I was watching one of my classes take an in-class history essay. Most of them didn’t look like they were enjoying the experience.

While I had nearly an hour to kill, observing the squirming year 9 faces, my mind wandered to my old high school teachers.

From what I remember, some were really good. Others were adequate. A few were woeful.

My judgement, even though I am now a teacher myself, hasn’t really changed from what I held a few decades ago.

The good teachers were still good. The toilers were still adequate. The woeful teachers were still rather garbage.

But, now, I can reflect back upon their assessment techniques and pedagogy.

Previously, my judgement was far more relational. 

As a student, it was far more about enthusiasm and passion.

In reality, a good teacher needs all of these qualities. The traits that the students will value - enthusiasm, passion, friendliness, fairness - and the qualities which a colleague will notice - good practice, effective admin, a productive learning environment, successful outcomes - must go hand-in-hand.

Nonetheless, it is with active teaching experience that I’m now able to appreciate my high school teachers.

The more I do, the better I appreciate what they did.

Or, frankly, what they didn’t do.

The same thing happened when I was a youth minister.

For, your depth of appreciation is aligned with your experience.

And, those you initially thought were good - remain quality - except now you have a far richer justification.