A Sense of Doubt blog post #2534 - THE POWER OF A TEACHER
I have written many times before that, really, I did not make a conscious choice to go into teaching, and for a long time, feeling imposter syndrome, I did not identify as an educator.
I keep circling back to this subject because I am still trying to process how I ended up here.
I just wrote this to a colleague:
Something I wrote about this video for a class:
Hello quality humans, I am chris tower, and I know I did not follow grammar rules in punctuating my name because I teach that subject and other subjects related to writing well here at Lower Columbia College, the best school I have ever had the honor to be given class rooms of students to educate. I grew up in Michigan and moved to PDX in 2017 when my wife became sick of blizzards. Trust me, you don't have blizzards here. I write a daily blog -- https://sensedoubt.blogspot.com/ -- and I love being part of the faculty at LCC. When there's no pandemic, I play Ultimate Frisbee. I adore sushi, fruit pie, comic books, t-shirts, and my family (two dogs, wife, step kids, Dad and sis in Michigan).
I loved the Saenz video (probably will share it to my blog) and am bummed that I cannot find a transcript of it (though he has a book). I want to share both my pivotal teacher and my pivotal student examples.
My teacher of greatest impact was Edward Ronald Finn. I know his full name because he used it to teach us history. In WWII, the powers of the axis were remembered by the acronym formed of the towns surrounding our small town of Richland, MI: Galesburg, Augusta and I or Germany. Austria, and Italy. The Allies matched his name: England, France, and Russia = Edward Ronald Finn. I have never forgotten that lesson and so many others. I had Finn for World History and AP World History, and these are the classes I think about the most as a teacher. His humor, his creativity, his activities (Will the Real Voltaire Please Stand Up?) formed most of my ideas about education: make them laugh and they may not notice you're educating them at the same time. Or at least, I hope I educate them rather sacrificing those moments of instruction for the punch lines.
More importantly, I want to tell you all about one of my students back at Western Michigan University (WMU). I became close with many of them because for a time -- as I was teaching 200+ students a term for the women's studies department -- I was given TAs to help manage the workload. And since we worked together as colleagues after being teacher-student, I invited a dozen or so to my wedding in 2009. One of these, Little Stevie Pitts (as he liked to be known), part of my star team of brilliance, the best pair of TAs in ten years, came up to me at my wedding and told me that I changed his life and explained how grateful he was. He had entered WMU on an engineering track, and for a year I was teaching technical writing for the engineering department. Since I was also teaching the women's studies course that was a general education distributional, I promoted it: "Hey, take my WMS100 class, Media and the Sexes." Little Stevie was the only one who did. After being in my class and having "my mind blown," he said, he changed his major to psychology; now, he's a practicing psycho-therapist and not an engineer: ALL BECAUSE OF ME. I know there are other impacts I have had, but this is the one I remember the most because on that highly emotional night, Stevie told me what I meant to him, and we both had a little cry.
Moments like this one with Stevie Pitts make up for all the years of low pay and lack of job security. I am blessed and humbled to do this job, and I hope to make more of these impacts here at LCC. I tell my students that "I am on your side" because I am not sure how many have heard that from their teachers. I did. I stole it from another great teacher in my life, a recent one, from when I went back to school in 2010 planning to change careers. But I didn't change. Because I love teaching. Yes, I know that previous sentence is a fragment.
I am still here, and I continue to hope that students really hear me when I say "I am on your side. I want you to succeed. Let's work together to ensure your success. You can do this!"
"An open mind is a curious mind ready to learn!"
#WritingIsRewriting
your friend in learning!
peace, chris tower
“Always look on the bright side”
https://singjupost.com/the-power-of-a-teacher-adam-saenz-full-transcript/?singlepage=1
Something happened to me on Monday, August 25th, 2008. That was so significant for me, it literally changed the course of my career. That day was my first day ever, as a real, live, substitute teacher.
Now, since I’m a licensed psychologist, I know the best way to heal from a traumatic event is to talk about it. There’s so much I could tell you about what an absolute train wreck that day was, but let me give you some of the lowlights.
So, my method for behavior management for this classroom, an inner-city third grade classroom was that I was going to write their names on the board. You know, surely that would put the fear of God in them, as if, right?
So, 10 minutes before lunch, I’m trying to make this big dramatic point to the kids about how bad their behavior was and how disappointed the teacher was going to be.
And I said, “You know what’s really sad?” I said, “In 10 minutes, we’re about to go to lunch, and let me just check.” So, I start counting names, da-da-da-da-da. I said, “28 of you are going to be stuck in here with me at recess.”
This little girl in the back of the classroom, she raised her hand, “Sir, there are only 22 kids in this classroom.” And it was just stupid stuff like that all day long. It was a Master’s workshop and how not to lead a classroom.
So finally, we get through the day, the last bell rings, the kids are walking out, and that sure enough the last kid to leave the classroom was the one that had been riding me the hardest all day long. His goal that day was to make me cry, I know it.
So just before he gets to the door, he stops and he turns and he looks at me. And he says, “Hey, Dr. Saenz, you’re pretty cool man. Are you going to be my teacher again, tomorrow?”
Dude, I looked that kid straight in the eye, I said, “Oh, sweet God, I hope not.”
I got through the afternoon. I went home. You know that saying that a picture is worth a thousand words; a couple days later, I found this picture and I said, “Oh my Gosh! This picture captures my first day as a substitute teacher.”
I’m that guy, and this is that third-grade class, just squatting the collective rear end of their bad behavior on my skills. You can see who’s coming out on top.
So, what I do as a psychologist in school, is a big part of what I do is I consult with teachers. So, teachers that are teaching children with academic and behavioral issues, I coach them. And I started thinking about, I said, “You know what? I do all this time teaching teachers but I’ve never taught in a classroom myself.”
And so, I started substitute teaching because I wanted just a taste of what it’s like to actually be in a classroom, to see if that, in any way, change what I believe that, like the recommendations that I was making or what I believe in theory or in practice, about how to intervene with children.
And let me tell you something, the first light bulb that went off for me after that very first day of substitute teaching was this: “Hey, Adam. Guess what, big guy? It doesn’t matter how many degrees you have, it doesn’t matter where you got them from, it doesn’t matter what you think you know about education, unless you’ve actually taught in a classroom, day-in day-out, and done the work, there is no way you will ever understand how incredibly demanding and challenging that vocation is.”
And it was a huge moment of insight for me. And what happened was, I was overwhelmed with this sense of admiration for educators, for men and women across the country that are in classrooms everywhere, just flat-out getting it done, do an amazing job; overwhelmed at how incredible that is.
And then what happened was that feeling of being overwhelmed, it sort of shifted into one of curiosity, and I got intensely curious about this thing, I was wondering, “How do you get good at that thing called teaching,” number one. And number two, “how do you get good at it and stay good at it, when data showed that about half the teachers teaching in schools now will be employed in another profession in five years.”
So, for those of us who work in education, we go to so many conferences and workshops about the “how” of Education, the “where,” the “what,” the “when,” but I was curious about the “why,” the “why” of education. Because I know that whenever we engage a significant task, if we enter it with the right “why,” the “what,” the “where,” the “when,” the “how,” that usually falls into place.
So, I’ve started researching, what are the psychological variables that drive vocational satisfaction for educators? And the point that I want to share, the idea that I want to share today is this: when we in education, when we enter into that vocation from the right “why,” we posture ourselves and poise ourselves to make the kind of life-impacting relationships that have the power to change the future.
So, what I want to do is, I want to share a couple of case studies with you, and I think these case studies will do more to illustrate my point than me talking through my research and through data.
So, the boy on the left is a sixth-grade boy. His name is Lou. The girl on the right is a fourth-grade girl. Her name is Lauren. Let’s talk about Lou. Sixth-grade boy, Hispanic male, low socio-economic home. He’s got a single uninvolved parent, history of truancy, history of interaction with the legal system. He’s got an undiagnosed depression and he’s using street drugs to self-medicate.
Now, if you’re a classroom teacher and you have this kid in your classroom, this is the kid that will make you sit out in the parking lot on your campus and have an existential crisis. This is the kid that will make you sit out in February, when the snow’s piled that high and say “Do I really want to walk the 200 yards into that building, because I didn’t sleep well last night.”
But I guarantee you, Lou slept like a baby and he’s going to be loaded for bear and ready for me. And then you start thinking, “you know, like they don’t pay me enough for this. Why am I doing this?” And all that goes on. And if you have this kid in your classroom, he will wear you out. And if you have this kid in your classroom and he doesn’t wear you out, I would say one of two things is true of you; either you’re a superhero or you’re in just a little bit of denial. That’s this kid.
Well, this kid actually is not in sixth-grade anymore. Of all things, this little stinker grew up and became a licensed psychologist, and that’s what he looks like today. I was that kid. I was that kid.
Let me share my story with you. The setting is the early 1980s. The location is the Lower Rio Grande Valley, the very southern tip, very close to the border of Mexico, 95% Hispanic. And I remember, I remember the look on my mom’s face the first time she had to come to juvenile to pick me up when I was arrested; the anger in her face.
And the first words out of her mouth, when she saw me, was, “What are you doing here? What are you doing here?” And that question, it wasn’t a question of action. What am I doing here? Well, I’m sitting in this chair with these handcuffs digging into my wrist, wondering what the next 48 hours of my life will look like. That’s not the question she was asking. It was a question of identity.
And I remember thinking, “What an absolutely stupid question to ask me? Are you kidding me? What am I doing here? I know who I am. I’m Lou Saenz. It’s my job to make your life hell. I’m never going to learn. I can’t make it through a single day. What am I doing here? This is who I am. This is where I belong. This is what I do.”
Well, my mom, Child Protective Services was never involved with my family but my mom could read the writing on the wall. And she voluntarily relinquished guardianship to me. And I went to live with this family, several hundred miles away, and what was then this tiny rice farming town, out in the sticks, out in the suburbs of Houston called Katy, Texas. And I ended up doing pretty well at Katy junior high and Katy high school.
But by my senior year, I started to get depressed again because the family that I lived with, they said, “Son, we love you, but you’re 18. And when you graduate, you’re on your own.” And I was terrified because I knew, no, no, no, no, no. when you take all the structure away from me, I knew that I still had demons on the inside and they were going to come and get me.
Well, sure enough, I graduated from Katy High School on the bottom fell out. I ended up in San Antonio. I was working as a dishwasher. I met this guy; he’d let me sleep on the living room floor of his tiny one-bedroom apartment. My depression was out of control. I was using drugs again, to self-medicate, street drugs. And I wasn’t suicidal but I remember thinking like, “Are you kidding me? I’m 19 years old. I’m working as a dishwasher. I’m using drugs, and I’ve got another 60 years of this to look forward to. What’s the point?”
Well, I remember coming home from work one morning. It was about 3:00 a.m., very early, and I was really depressed and really overwhelmed. And so, I pulled out my journal. I just needed to get into my journal, to write. And as I pulled out my journal, in my journal box, I saw these two letters.
And I couldn’t figure out what they were but when I found them, I was blown away at what they were. They were two letters that had been written to me by two of my teachers, my senior year at Katy high school. And this is part of what one of those letters said,
“You’re extremely talented and intelligent, but most importantly, you have a good heart. I know you will use your talents to help your fellowmen, and that’s the most satisfying life a person can have.”
And it was signed by my English teacher, Joella Exley. It said some other things but that’s what jumped out. Put it away, I pulled out the second letter. And this is part of what that letter said:
“Don’t quit writing, especially in your journal. Someday, it may be the basis for your book. You have insight, sensitivity, intelligence and maturity beyond your tender years. Keep being you. You’re a special person.”
And it was signed by my creative writing teacher, Polly McRoberts.
And those words absolutely haunted me. They just haunted me because I said, “Wait a minute, wait a minute, wait a minute. I know who I am. I know who I am. I’m Lou Saenz. I’m a 19-year old version of that sixth-grade kid that’s never going to make it through a single day, whose job it is to make your life hell, who’s never going to learn. I’m using drugs. I’m depressed out of my mind. I’m working as a dishwasher. I have no future. I know who I am.”
But here were these two women, for whom I had tremendous respect, that were disagreeing with me. And because of who they were in the kind of life they lived in front of us in the classroom, I couldn’t just blow them off. I couldn’t just say, “Well, you don’t know what you’re talking about.” And because of their character and their integrity, I knew they would not have written these words to me if they didn’t absolutely believe it.
So back and forth I went, back and forth, “who’s right about me? Who’s right about me?” So, finally I said, “You know what? I need to put this theory to the test. I need to figure out who I am. I know what I’m going to do. I’m going to sign up for a college course.”
I had no idea how to do that, neither my parents went to college. But I went to the University of Texas at San Antonio. I was accepted. The first course I had to take was “Introduction to English.” And I said, “Oh, thank God! Because if I have any hope of passing a college course, it’s got to be this English course.”
Well, at the end of the semester, I remember I got my grade and I passed it. Couldn’t believe it. Couldn’t believe it, and so I started thinking, “You know what? Maybe Mrs. Roberts and Mrs. Exley were right about me. Maybe they could see something in me that I couldn’t see in myself,” on the one hand.
On the other hand, “Maybe this was just a clerical error for all I know. Should probably take another course.” So, I took another course that spring and I passed it. Couldn’t believe it. Then I took a course that summer, then two, then three, and just kept going a little at a time.
And then just before I turned 27-years-old, I graduated with my undergraduate degree in English. Never, never, never thought I was going to get a college degree. I never did, but there I had it. And then I started thinking, “You know what? They were right about me. Mrs. McRoberts and Mrs. Exley could see something in me that I couldn’t see in myself.”
And I said, “You know what? I’m done being Lou. I’m done being that kid that’s never going to make it through a single day, whose job it is to make your life hell, who’s never going to learn.”
And then just psychologically, as a way to give myself permission to be somebody else, I said, “I’m going to start going by my first name now. I’m going to be Adam. And maybe Adam can live into this life that those two teachers saw in him, so many years ago.”
Well, I started my Master’s program, and then I started my own therapy to work through my own past, my own trauma, and my own abuse. Finished my Master’s, and then I applied for a PhD in school of psychology at Texas A&M. And then the whole thing came full circle.
It was March of 2001, I remember I was sitting in Logan Airport, I was finishing my internship at Boston Children’s Hospital, under a fellowship appointment to Harvard, and I was scheduled to graduate in May and I had applied for postdocs at Brown, Yale and Columbia, and Brown was my top choice.
So, I’m sitting in the airport at Logan, waiting for my flight. I was going to fly back to College Station to defend my dissertation, and my cell phone rang. I said, “Hello, this is Adam.” And then a voice on the other end of the phone said, “Adam, hey, this is Dr. J. Reeve at Brown Medical School. Listen, we got your paperwork. We really enjoyed our interview with you and I’m calling to offer you a fellowship appointment here at the medical school.” And I was just thrilled. I mean, this is my top choice, right?
So, as he’s talking about the research and the clinical work, I had an incoming phone call and I didn’t recognize the number. And I said, “Dr. Reeve,” I said, “I’m so sorry to ask, but do you mind if I put you on hold? I have a call coming and I think I need to take it.”
No problem. Clicked over, “Hello, this is Adam.” Then a voice on the other end said, “Adam, hey, this is Dr. Chuck Sanislow at Yale Medical School. Listen, we got your paperwork. We really enjoyed our interview with you, and I’m calling to offer you a fellowship appointment to Yale.”
I said, “Dude, I got Brown on the other line. I don’t have to call you back.” Click.
Took the position at Brown, hung up. And then it hit me, in that moment it hit me, I realized, “Adam, you can write your own ticket. You are qualified to do what you love to do, which is practice psychology, at any Hospital, any university, any school district in the country. And you’re bilingual.”
And I realized in that moment, “I wouldn’t have those options, if I didn’t have a PhD in psychology. And I never would have had the courage to apply for a PhD, if I hadn’t finished my Master’s degree. And I never could have applied for a Master’s degree, if I hadn’t first finished my undergraduate degree.
And you know what? I know that I know, that I know that I know that I never would have stepped out for that first degree, had educators not spoken truth into my life about ‘Who I am?’ and my identity.” and I’ll tell you right now, I will be forever grateful to Mrs. McRoberts and Mrs. Exley for the moment of impact they had in my life.
If you ever happen to be in Katy Texas by the way and you’re driving down Westheimer Parkway, you’re going to see that building, and that’s Jo Ella Exley Elementary. And if you ever happen to be driving down Fry Road, you’re going to see that building, and that’s Polly McRoberts Elementary. And I am so proud of Katy ISD for honoring these two women.
Now, let’s go to my second case study. This was Lauren Garcia. And when I look at that picture of Lauren, her smile doesn’t convince me. And when I think about who she was at this time, I think, “what does she have to smile about?” she had been in the custody of protective services for two years already, in her young life. She had experienced things that no human being should ever have to experience, let alone a little girl.
And then we sit her down in front of a camera and tell her to say cheese. Well, what’s there to smile about? Well, what happens with children that are in protective services in custody when they’re 10, 11, 12-years-old, if they haven’t been adopted by that time, statistically speaking, the likelihood that they will ever be adopted, it drops dramatically.
Well, what happened with Lauren was, she ended up in court. But with her, the circumstances were a little bit different. It wasn’t juvenile court; it was an adoption court because the family read her file and they said, “We know exactly what we’re signing up for.”
And in March of 2010, Lauren Garcia became Lauren Saenz. And that was the day that my wife and I adopted her. And there we are on our adoption day, with my biological children. And that was a very special day in our family. That was on a Tuesday.
That very next Saturday, Lauren and I had our very first daddy-daughter dance. And there we are, getting ready for the daddy-daughter dance. And she was so cute, I remember I said, “All right, sweet girl. You’ve got new shoes, you’ve got a new dress. You’re beautiful.” I said, “You know what? Before the dance, I’m going to take you out to dinner anywhere you want to go.” And man, her little eyes just lit up, “Are you kidding me? Anywhere I want to go.”
I said, “Anywhere you want to go. I don’t care. You name it; steak, seafood, chick filet.” So, there we were at Chick-fil-A, in our formalwear, waffle, fries and chicken sandwiches. It was the bomb.
So, after dinner, we ended up at the dance. And we were still getting to know each other at that point; she’d only been with us for about 6 months. And I remember the dance, I just wanted to make one point of connection with her.
And so, when we got there and we settled in, I remember I reached over and I held her hand and I took this little picture. And I said, “Sweet girl, there are two things you need to understand about being my girl and about being family.” I said, “The first is this. You do not make the rules in our family; mom and I make the rules, and your job is to follow them. There’s not a question mark at the end of that statement. There’s not a comma at the end of that statement. There is a period at the end of that statement. Do you understand me?”
And she said, “Yes sir, I do.”
And I said, “Very good. Here’s the second thing you need to know.” I said, “Do you know what my job is?”
And she said, “Yes sir, your job is to make sure that I follow the rules.”
And I smiled at her and I said, “oh, no, no, no, sweet girl.” I said, “Listen to me. My job is to lay my life down for you. My job is to protect you. My job is to provide for you. My job is to guide you.” I said, “Sweetheart, you don’t understand this about yourself yet, but you are the most precious thing on the planet. There is no pile of money, anywhere on the planet, more valuable than you are. Not even in the same category. And my job is to lay my life down for you, so that you will understand your value because when you understand your value, you will live as though your choices matter. You will understand that just like me, you have a calling, you have a purpose, you have a destiny, you are on this planet for a reason.”
And then in a moment of incredible insight, she looked at me and she said, “Dad, I don’t think I’ve ever been loved that way before.”
And I remember I smiled at her and I said, “Oh, sweet girl, sweet girl. Believe it or not, I know exactly how you feel.” I said, “Let me tell you a story about a kid I used to know. His name was Lou.”
And I shared my story with her. And it was a powerful moment in our relationship. And the reason I share my daughter as a case study is just to underscore the generational power that educators have in the classroom. When we, as educators, make that connection with those students, we change every heartbeat they have, to the grave.
And when I think about the men and women that poured into my life, the educators like Mrs. McRoberts and Mrs. Exley that poured into my life when quite frankly, I was not the best version of myself, how do I look at a little girl like this and not bring her into my life. That is the power of an educator; that is the power of a teacher.
So, let me conclude with this. I’m going to answer that question that my mom asked me when I was in juvenile, sitting in handcuffs, “what are you doing here?” what am I doing here? You know what, by God’s grace, I know who I am today. My name is Dr. Adam Lou Saenz and I’m here on this stage today because my life was impacted by the power of a teacher.
Resources for Further Reading:
A Tale of Two Teachers: Melissa Crum (Full Transcript)
The One Thing All Great Teachers Do: Nick Fuhrman (Transcript)
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- Bloggery committed by chris tower - 2201.25 - 10:10
- Days ago = 2398 days ago
- New note - On 1807.06, I ceased daily transmission of my Hey Mom feature after three years of daily conversations. I plan to continue Hey Mom posts at least twice per week but will continue to post the days since ("Days Ago") count on my blog each day. The blog entry numbering in the title has changed to reflect total Sense of Doubt posts since I began the blog on 0705.04, which include Hey Mom posts, Daily Bowie posts, and Sense of Doubt posts. Hey Mom posts will still be numbered sequentially. New Hey Mom posts will use the same format as all the other Hey Mom posts; all other posts will feature this format seen here.
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