When I was a kid, I was obsessed with the idea of being among “the gifted kids”. There were a handful of my peers to whom school came naturally – they rarely seemed to study, got excellent grades, and seemed to understand everything the first time. That wasn’t me. I was a voracious reader and an enthusiastic writer, but completing school-specific readings and assignments felt like trudging through quicksand. And math? Forget it. I would do what I could on the homework and knock on my teacher’s office door the next morning to beg for help. (I didn’t know I had dyscalculia until I was in my mid 20s.) Tests were my own Mount Everests. I spent more time trying to be a “gifted kid” than I spent catching up on sleep. This wasn’t because I needed to be special – this was because my teachers had shown me that being a “gifted kid” was the skeleton key to having your work celebrated.

 

Unfortunately, my “gifted kid” act never fooled them; I was not special. I was not worth the ooh-ing and aah-ing that was reserved for my classmates who left school at 3pm and came back at 8am with impenetrable homework and no questions. My teachers were larger-than-life people that needed to be impressed – and not just for the sake of good grades, but for the sake of their approval, which seemed to be given so freely to students who were not me. I respect the teachers who got me here, and it’s to them I owe my perseverance, but this is not the type of teacher I am.
 

The type of teacher I am is one who prioritizes safety, growth, and equitability – all of which is only possible if the classroom culture is a positive one. The first and perhaps most important step to establishing a positive classroom culture is to nurture positive and trusting relationships between myself and my students. This is especially true in high school, where the inherent trust I remember having for my elementary grade teachers did not exist. High schoolers have reached a point in their life in which they expect (and deserve) to be respected by their teachers as autonomous individuals, and many of them have learned that they cannot simply trust their teachers to give them that; teachers must earn this relationship of mutual respect early on. Without this, students can’t possibly feel confident in being able to communicate with their teachers, which impacts their experiences in our classrooms.

 

I believe in connecting with students on an individual level so that they can feel comfortable approaching me with anything, whether it be about what they’re struggling with in school or questions about other aspects of their life. It is through these connections that teachers become the best versions of themselves for their students. It gives us the opportunity to learn things about them that will make their learning experience effective. When one of my students is chronically late, I know it’s not because he’s lazy or irresponsible but because he has severe insomnia. Armed with this knowledge I can help him find solutions to this roadblock, whether it be helping him design a nightly routine that will help him sleep or assisting him in identifying and addressing what’s preventing healthy sleep habits and impacting his ability to participate in school. When one of my students isn’t participating, I know it’s not because she’s not paying attention but because she needs encouragement and accommodation due to social anxiety. How can I know and understand these needs if my students can’t trust me enough to share them?
 

One of the most impactful ways to build a relationship with all students, and not just the ones that look like you, is to connect with their lives and cultures. As an English teacher, I have the unique opportunity to decolonize the actual content that my students are engaging with. Not only can we think with multiple perspectives, but we can engage with narratives from non-Western parts of the world. In my own classroom, I have found that student engagement comes to life when they are given the chance to work with content that has meaning to them: it’s only natural that in a classroom with mostly Latinx students, a unit on La Llorona piques interest and excitement in the discussion of folklore where The Headless Horseman falls flat. It’s vital that students see themselves reflected in the content they are learning; how better to validate their cultures, experiences, and existence than by showing them how much it matters? Just as literacy goes beyond reading and writing by asking students to understand, speak, and listen, it also asks students to have experience in the works, language, and cultures beyond the dominant one they currently live in.
 

My job as a teacher is to be a guide, not a dictator. This comes through especially in my grading practices, which are in line with the research and evidence offered by Joe Feldman and others. My students should never have to think that their job in the classroom is to impress me, nor should they ever view me as the harbinger of points. Classrooms are a place for learning and engagement and the growth of intrinsic motivation; this is only possible when students can engage with the material rather than “the grade book”. I don’t believe in motivating students with carrots or sticks. Mine is a classroom that focuses on learning, by which I mean students cannot be expected to perform perfectly when we start. Mistakes are integral to learning; how can a student learn when they are trying to avoid being punished for making mistakes during the learning process? Grades aren’t punishments or rewards, but an accurate representation of their learning. In my classroom, there is a No-Zero policy – I expect my students to complete their work. Accountability can come in many forms, and I work independently with students to determine how best to keep them on task throughout the semester. In order to nurture an equitable classroom, students are graded strictly on content and not on behaviors; a student’s grade cannot be affected by social and cultural differences or economic status. 
 

Student safety and integrity are vital to creating a classroom culture that empowers them to learn and find who they are before they are released to the big bad world. They spend almost as much time with me as they do at home; it’s my job to make it count. As a teacher I approach my students with the love, care, and respect that every young person deserves. I embrace the many things that make up each child and uplift voices that are different from my own. My goal as a teacher is to use the authority I’m granted to embrace radical kindness and equity – and if that can positively impact even just one student, I’m where I need to be.