Standards-Based Grading

Note: I have personal thoughts that don’t always align with standards and how they can be used to restrict and confine, but I believe they can be put to good use when evaluating student performance, certainly compared to the other more common system.

I gave my first test today. I didn’t technically construct it from scratch, but I modified a test of the same unit originally created by my mentor teacher. As soon as I made it, though, and thought about how it would be graded, my mind automatically went to the grades I’m used to: 50  and below means failure, 85 means most concepts are understood, and 100 means you know everything! But that’s not how the school I am student teaching at does it. The district I am part of recently made the switch from point-based grades to standard-based grades. Although I had learned about the system while taking my education courses, it remained somewhat of a mystery until recently.

When I created the test for my 6th grade class on rocks and minerals, I took a page from my supervising teacher’s handbook and included a scoring key in the top right corner of the first page. Included were performance standards, measuring a student’s ability to construct a model and write a scientific explanation, and NGSS focus standards of the unit. (Focus standards were determined at the start of the year in a collaborative group of district science teachers.) I then put next to questions the standard that would be measured from that response. Including these components in the test made sense. It would be clear to me what the student understood clearly or still needed to work on, and the student would be aware of which questions were valued most. After reviewing responses from completed tests, I was even more proud to find that many students did well in meeting the standards. It only took reading an article later on that convinced me standards-based grading should entirely replace the archaic and somewhat useless point-based grading.

When I was growing up, my performance in school was everything to me. If I didn’t receive an A on any given assignment, whether it was homework or a test, my world ended. Throughout high school, I made it my goal to be valedictorian, whatever the cost. There had only been one girl who could rival me, but I didn’t often view her as a threat. As my senior year came to an end, though, I noticed that the motivation I had for receiving high honors was coming only from me, while this other girl was receiving pressure from her mother to be the best. I realized that getting a metaphorical A+ to represent my high school graduation really didn’t mean what I thought it did. It might have been impressive to colleges I applied to, but it wouldn’t have shown anything about my performance in the classes I took. One look at the word, “valedictorian”, and one may think that it meant I was exceptional in whatever I did. It wouldn’t give a hint to the struggles I experienced in math or the confusion I had in chemistry. The term is a blanket statement, and I only wanted it because I believed it would prove that I worked hard and deserved it. Despite that reasoning, though, it also blinded me to the difficulties I had. If I could call myself “top of the class”, I could pretend that I was the best and never had any trouble. I did end up graduating as salutatorian of my class, and it made me feel good. I display the medal I received on my desk, to remind me of how well I actually did, but it also reminds me that, even though I didn’t fail any of my classes, a few letter grades cannot tell the entire story of my performance.

I read an article distributed to faculty of my placement school entitled Seven Reasons for Standards-Based Grading written by Patricia L. Scriffiny, a high school math teacher in Colorado. The reasons are clearly articulated and sensible, and I urge you to read it. She essentially describes how this type of grading system can help make the education experience more meaningful. The public school system is sometimes structured too much, in my opinion, but the grading system is one area that is lacking and desperately needs to be altered. Had I been exposed to standards-based grading while I was in school, I may have had more areas to work on because my memorization of answers wouldn’t have been easily rewarded, and that would be a good thing. I like being able to show students and their parents how well a standard is being met and how the knowledge being gained is actually being put to use. So much pressure is put on doing your best and exceeding expectations, but that cannot be done if the expectations are unknown. I am hoping that more schools transition to this more helpful form of grading because the age of earning As or Fs is over.

It’s a Small World After All

Molecule Models

In 7th grade science, we are learning about the Periodic Table of Elements! When I was in high school, taking chemistry, I didn’t appreciate what I learned. It was confusing to me because we were talking about the building blocks of life that cannot be easily seen. I didn’t understand bonds or how electrons are shared in order to create them. One may wonder, then, why am I getting into this topic with students who don’t necessarily need to know that much information? Looking at the next activity they are expected to complete, I don’t have much confidence in them understanding how to model molecules if they don’t have just a small understanding of the subatomic particles and atoms that make up the elements of a compound. So, I started today with introducing them to the terms: protons, neutrons, and electrons. This was after I asked them what could make up an atom and received the response: absolutely nothing. Although I was mostly met with confusion, such as: “Why do we need to know the words ‘protons’ and ‘electrons’ when they can both be found with the atomic number?” or “What makes up these particles? Does whatever makes them up make up something else?”and disinterest: “Why can’t I wait to learn this in high school when I’m smarter?”, I believe that having these kids leave middle school with the minimal knowledge that the number of particles making up an atom can be discerned with the Periodic Table will only be beneficial. It is extremely difficult to understand the microscopic world when we can’t see it with the naked eye. I know that students will only continue to become frustrated, but I am hoping to soon turn that frustration into understanding and interest.

Leaving the Classroom at School

As I sit in my room tonight, forgetting the difference between relaxation and boredom, I type into Google something about welcoming error in the classroom. Countless times, I have had students in each grade I work with beat themselves up over not knowing something or feeling like there is a problem for not offering the correct answer. It upsets me that they have had teachers before that do not welcome mistakes as a part of the learning process, so I am trying to figure out how to make it normal in my classroom. One would think that I might give myself a break for one night and enjoy the upcoming weekend, but I don’t remember how.

Those who are unfamiliar with the life of a teacher do not realize that it is not a job. It’s not something you go to for 8 hours a day and get to leave at your workplace, making sure it doesn’t get mixed up in your personal life. Having no school during the summer doesn’t mean no work, either. It just means more time for learning more content knowledge or better methods for meeting the standards. Even though I am only a student teacher at the moment, I cannot separate the life I lead at school from the life I lead at home. When I lie in bed, silently waiting for sleep, my mind thinks of topics that I could use for science class or differentiation I could implement in math. Students often get off at the end of the week with no homework, but I don’t need to be reminded of all that I can work on when not dressed in a button down shirt and sensible shoes. That’s because it stares me in the face and invades my mind.

A teacher who can leave the classroom at school may not be fulfilling his or her duties in the way that they should. Those who assume that teachers are able to easily compartmentalize their lives are incorrect and in need of enlightenment. It amazes me how vastly under appreciated educators are today, that it has turned into a job to which anyone thinks they can flock to when there is simply nothing else left. It is not a job you just choose because you can’t think of anything better. When you choose to become a teacher, you are dedicating your life to lifelong learning and helping another generation enjoy that feeling, whether it is in the regular, public school classroom or a nature center summer camp. Teaching is not a job. It is a commitment.

Thinking that way makes me happy, even as I collapse onto my bed, feeling the weight of exhaustion from the past week. Although I cannot just enjoy watching anime or sifting through Tumblr without my mind going back to the events of the day during school hours, I am not upset by it. I am thankful. To me, it means that I have chosen the right path.

Sink or Swim

Today was probably one of my least favorite days since I started student teaching. My mentor teacher took a personal day, and I was left to lead 6th, 7th, and 8th grade science as well as the 7th grade math class. While I had done this once before and am already in charge of 6th and 7th grade science, today was different.

I find myself taking deep breaths, as if the past 8+ hours held an oxygen deficiency. My head has a slight ache, and I can still feel the cold tendrils of water that covered my skin at school and let me drown. That’s how I felt when I ran into problems with students not wanting to do classwork. Or when I was given the task of leading a lesson in math, a subject I have very little confidence in. I felt like the ocean had swallowed me, and all I could do was use my energy to stay afloat. After having discussed my dilemmas with fellow student teachers, I realize now that I could have implemented a few methods in order to make my time in the classroom more valuable. But just the thought of how upset I felt in the 8th grade class has yet to wear away.

When a student doesn’t want to do something, how can you get them to? If it’s a behavior that has been presented countless times before, is it worth your time to give it attention or ignore it in favor of students that appear to want to learn? When a boy in the 8th grade class today didn’t want to do his work, I almost decided to just let him not. I figured, if he doesn’t want to do anything, I won’t waste my time teaching him. But it doesn’t seem to work like that. Yes, I could try that once and see what happens, but I can’t expect him to come to school every day and get no work done simply because I don’t have the patience or energy to make him behave. Some would say all there is left to do is send him to the office or give him detention. But I feel like a repetitive act such as those options loses its effect after a few dozen times. Should he then be told to stay home if he doesn’t want to be at school? What would his parents or guardians say? Would that create more harm than good? When I am working with a student such as this one, I wish that I could turn off my empathy and allow whatever may come to happen. But I can’t get myself to let this student sink as I swim away. Yes, he pushes my buttons and gets under my skin very easily, but I appreciate the challenge in a way. I want to know how I can either get him to want to work or to realize that his actions don’t make me upset;they only make his life harder. I want students such as this one to understand that the time and energy they spend complaining about being at school or attempting to make a teacher upset does them no good. Before they know it, they will either become a dropout or end up in high school where their behaviors are less tolerated. They will lose any bit of motivation that was left and drown.

I wish I could have a classroom filled with students who want to learn. But I’m sure I’m not the only one. It would make my life easier in so many ways, but where would I be without a challenge to that desire? Student teaching can sometimes feel like an extremely lengthy swim: most times, I am going at a steady pace and breathing fine, while other times I am losing focus, getting tired, and wishing I could just stop. At this point in time, I am so close to the end, stopping would be counter-productive. So, looking at my choices, I think I would rather swim.

Why Are You Here?

Throughout each science class today, we worked in the school garden, preparing it for the looming winter season. By the end of the day, I was tired but happy. It’s always exciting for me to work with students in a context outside of the normal classroom. During the last block of the day, students outside were getting restless and attempted to act foolishly, either by running around far too much, shoving each other, or kicking pine cones. Eventually, after they settled down, one boy looked at me and asked, “Miss Garcia, do you get paid enough for this?” I looked back and said, “I don’t get paid at all.”

Immediately after my response, the students appeared shocked. They all started asking me: “If you’re not paid, why are you here??” “Do you want me to get your car ready for you to go? (Implying that I probably didn’t want to stay and handle their behavior if I wasn’t even getting a penny for it.)” “Where do you get money?” “Are you jobless?”

No, I don’t like student teaching without any form of payment. It seems unfair to me, putting in 40 hours of work per week, not including time spent outside of the school day preparing lessons or writing reflections for my supervisor. But I didn’t think they wanted to hear me say all of that, so I explained that not getting paid was unfortunate but that I had been working a part-time job on the weekends to make some money. (Of course, that job ended for me on Saturday.) Finally, one student asked me if I was there because I enjoyed it. I admitted that I was there for that very reason.

Some things are worth the time and energy, even if there is no monetary gain attached. The time I have gotten to spend with students, getting to know them at a personal level and having the opportunity to engage them in my favorite subject, is priceless, for lack of a better cliche. I don’t know if they will fully understand that because why would a girl who has graduated college want to be somewhere working when she doesn’t get a paycheck? That’s a good question, but I have my reasons. One girl stated: “She’s here because she wants to be a teacher.” And that is absolutely correct.

Students then went off on tangents, talking about how they would be working at McDonald’s once they were old enough. They asked if I would ever work there, and I said my brother had but I wasn’t planning to. One boy admitted that he thought I looked like someone who would work there and get his order wrong every single time. I guess that answers the question.

I like where I am in my life right now. I don’t know that I would be happy any other place at this point in time. Would I like money for my work? Definitely. Do I need it to keep doing what I love? No. At least, not at the moment.

Rays of Sunshine

Each Sunday evening, I forget that I need to go to bed at a reasonable time in order to be coherent on Monday morning. My post-college mind is still caught up in late nights with friends and sleeping past 6 AM. I dread having to wake up and go to school, and I try, unsuccessfully, to convince myself that calling out one day without having any valid reason wouldn’t be the end of the world. This happens probably every Monday morning. Every Monday, evening, though, I wonder why I even thought of staying home in the first place.

For every problem I run into that leads back to the public school system or the Department of Education, there are rays of sunshine that make all the difference. The happiness I feel when I’m in the classroom every day, listening to students gossip and share adventures from over the weekend, engaging classes in new lessons, is immense and shocks me in a way. When trying to decide what I wanted to do with my life, going to college for a degree I had no clue what to use for, my first thought was not teaching. I couldn’t picture myself doing what my mom does: educating a group of kids on the important lessons used to survive in our world today. I couldn’t imagine having the patience or managing to get myself out of bed every morning. But when I decided to give it a shot, when my student teaching placement finally arrived, I realized that I was wrong all along. I could imagine myself wearing non-jean outfits each day and having to plan dinner one night and lunch the next day at the same time. I could sit through a faculty meeting and understand what was being discussed, sharing my own thoughts when it felt appropriate. When I am at school, I feel like I belong there.

The students have asked me if I plan to teach there, and I, sadly, admit that I won’t unless someone loses their job. My fellow colleagues, as I have come to know them, speak to me as though I am an equal and have expressed that I am “part of the family.” Would I feel this way at any school? I want to say yes, but I don’t think I would. The school I am in is special. It is a small, close community, where students like to share their lives with teachers and teachers care about the success of their students, beyond how they perform in a standardized test. Every day, I learn something new about a 6th, 7th, or 8th grader, and I roll my eyes at least once. They tell me about what feelings they have when in school, both good and bad, and I ask them what they want to learn. Whether this is done by other teacher’s of theirs, I can’t be sure. But they are always willing to respond. I care immensely about students enjoying their time at school. It encompasses so much of their life. It’s only fair. And they repay me by serving as the bright, far-reaching rays of sunshine that make my gloomy days better. I won’t go on about how much I will miss them once Christmas comes around, and I don’t return, but I can say that it will be on my mind increasingly as the days fly by.

A Day in the Substitute’s Shoes

It’s 7:30 AM, and I’m walking into the school building to the classroom I normally occupy, knowing my mentor teacher won’t be there but hoping that a sub was hired in my place, if only because the idea of teaching 6th, 7th, and 8th grade science, plus a math class, seems terrifying. However, it’s just me and a small pile of materials, topped off by a one page lesson plan for the day. I notice there is nothing written for 6th grade. That’s because I’ve already been teaching them for a few weeks. No worries. Following that block of space, several tasks are outlined for both 7th and 8th grade to get done. My first thought is that there is no way we’ll get through it all. And that would be a good thing because I dislike nothing more than having awkward spaces of time when nothing is getting done. Feeling optimistic, though, I list all that we have to do on the whiteboard, so students won’t have to repeatedly ask me what we are doing. (Note: They asked anyway.) With the day organized in my head and for students to see, I only wait.

When the 7th grade homeroom first realized their normal teacher was gone for the day, they were surprised to learn that I would be the sub. That soon turned to excitement. At first, I thought it was because they wanted me to teach. I thought they were excited because a small change in an otherwise stable schedule is a reason to be happy. However, I later learned that most of them assumed it meant they would get no work done. Luckily, I kept that train of thought from getting too far. Today was a day that had me using my “teacher voice” more than I have before. While I am used to teaching 6th grade, they had trouble staying on task. My only solution was to direct them to stay focused with a loud and unwavering few words. I did the same with 7th and 8th grade. Halfway through the day, my throat felt sore. I am not accustomed to speaking loudly, so it’s difficult, but that is one of the best ways to keep students busy.

In general, there were no bad moments. Students weren’t rude, and each one got most of their work done. The 8th grade zipped through my list, but we ended the class in time to have no weird empty spaces. The 6th grade fell short of where I wanted to get them, but it will work itself out. The 7th grade are extremely good at getting themselves off-topic, so I did speak louder to them than the other two grades, but I later admitted that I didn’t mind them conversing with each other if it had to do with work, if only because I hate absolute silence. The math class went alright, made up mostly of 7th grade students. They finished what they were supposed to, but some students took much longer because they didn’t understand and didn’t want to try. If a student is stuck, I want to try to help them. There isn’t much I can do, though, when I’ve practically given them the answer, and they do nothing.

As the day came to an end, I let out a deep breath I hadn’t known I was holding. I wanted students to get work done, but I wanted more for them to start seeing me as a teacher. Starting next week, I will be teaching both 6th and 8th grade, two drastically different groups of kids. Leading the 8th grade for the first time today, I was afraid that I would spend the entire hour keeping certain students from making rude comments. I handled it all pretty well, though. When students got into side conversations, I spoke directly to them and waited until they continued working. It helped tremendously when an Ed Tech was present. I can’t emphasize enough how amazing it would be to require all teachers to have assistants of some kind. When I worked with the 6th grade, I had the hardest time helping individual students because some needed more direction than others. It occurred to me to move those who needed more help to a separate table altogether, but there was not enough room, and I also had to make sure those students who got done early would have something new to do. Even when I pictured it all exploding in my head, though, nothing went wrong. Students got the help they needed, and anything not finished today can be done tomorrow. I didn’t like assigning so much homework to some of the students, but it wasn’t my choice. Some of them had the chance to finish it before the end of the day, but one boy has to finish homework and classwork he didn’t get done. I wished I could have made it better, but there’s only so much I can do.

After a day like this one, I want to talk to the students and admit to them that I’m not a fan of public school either. When some described the school as prison and that laughter was frowned upon, I thought it sounded absurd, but maybe that’s what some students have learned. It’s hard when I have to take a different stance on education than I believe in, but I can’t freely admit that and expect that it’s okay to have students do nothing because it’s not. Yes, I would like to learn more methods for teaching the skills they need, rather than just reading from a textbook and filling out journals with data that, to them, has no impact on their real lives. However, just making that change isn’t very simple. I don’t want to get off-topic, but I wonder now what substitutes think when they go into a classroom and cover material using methods they may not agree with, or even regular classroom teachers. I don’t know if any educator truly likes raising their voice or threatening detention in order for work to get done. I want the students I’m working with to grasp the concepts they need, but I want to figure out different approaches. In any case, it was a long and enlightening day in a substitute’s shoes.

You’re One of Us!

Living in a family that includes younger siblings growing taller than me, I’m used to hearing comments about being short. The last time I remember growing was in 7th or 8th grade. While I stayed at 5’2”, many of my classmates and my younger sisters surpassed me. My height is not something that bothers me, though. I don’t like being called “short” , but my stature definitely makes buying clothes easier. I don’t usually have to worry about jeans being too long, and some people find those who are smaller to be cute, which I don’t mind. Being an authoritative figure among students who are barely shorter than you or already taller than you, though, makes it a much more attention-drawing issue.

While I’ve been in the classroom, whether as a student teacher or as a service learner, I’ve been mistaken as a student multiple times. I’m not very tall, so I blend in. My outfits also don’t always help. I don’t wear jeans other than on Fridays, but it sometimes doesn’t make a difference. Yesterday, though, was the first time a student asked about my height. We were taking a short walk outside as a class, attempting to relieve some stress before taking a math test. I was walking with one of the girls, talking about how I was the quiet student in school. From behind, one of the boys asked how I felt about having the female student be taller than me. I didn’t respond at first but just smiled. He said I shouldn’t feel embarrassed, that they were just wondering. I said I was used to being shorter, and I didn’t give it much thought anymore. He and his friends proclaimed, “It’s okay. You’re one of us!” I knew they meant I was one of them in terms of looking younger and not being tall, but, the more I think about that phrase, the more connections I make to its truth.

Even as a student teacher, I have had many moments in which the kids I work with have realized that I am not perfect, that teachers can make mistakes or not be sure about something as well. They are beginning to realize that we have a lot more in common than they originally thought. My view of teaching describes it as a life-long learning profession. I could never go into a teaching job completely sure that I know everything, that I could never answer a question wrong. If I am not sure of something, I’d rather take the time to figure it out. To many students, there may not be any connections between themselves and their teachers. Many teachers may never view themselves as students because they are convinced that they are already the expert on their subject. It’s difficult for me to understand how these thoughts are present, though, especially after having so many moments in which I have learned just as much as the students.

Today, progress reports were given to students. One wanted to compare his to mine, assuming I would receive one. I didn’t say I wouldn’t have one because I was amused at the thought of a 7th grader wanting to compare his progress to mine. I’m not sure he knew what I would be graded on, if it would be the same as his or not, but I enjoyed the fact that he saw me as both a teacher and a peer because I’m still learning, too. I ended up telling him and others in the class that I had been observed while teaching on Wednesday, so I considered that my progress report. He asked if I thought I had done okay, and I said I thought so! Other students then chimed in admitting that it sounded scary to have someone watching you, to be evaluated in such a way. I agreed. It was this kind of moment, and many others that have come to pass, that reminded me and my students that I am one of them, even if I don’t dress the same or allow them to call me by my first name. We are all receiving progress reports in one way or another. We can all make mistakes and ask for help. I worry sometimes about teachers forgetting those facts. I worry about them reaching a point when they think they no longer need to improve. If you’re ever at a point when you don’t consider yourself one of the students as well, you might need to think just a little bit more about that.

Soil Percolation, Coyote Mucus, Homesick Tears, and Ort Report

Tiles painted by students for decoration in the lab area of the NPS campus.

Over this past week, I spent 3 days and 2 nights at a National Park Service-hosted camp with my 6th grade students. To many, the phrase “overnight trip with 6th grade” sounds terrifying. When I mention it to anyone who asks how my week went, their eyes get big and they make a face, as if it could have only been a headache. However, the trip in all was inspiring, educational, and full of moments in which I got to know more about the students and they got to see me as more than a stranger.

We left the school at 9 AM on Wednesday and arrived at our location close to 10. We were welcomed by a ranger who was extremely kind but very obviously once taught primary education. I later found out from some of the students that her way of addressing them was annoying. Because being 11 years old is very different from being 5. We shared a packed lunch before arriving at the dorms. Cue students getting excited and taking group selfies because they get to bunk with their friends. I got my own room next to one room of girls, and the sleeping part worked out well for most of the time. There was an incident on the second night, but it was inevitable.

Recounting each activity we took part in would be exhausting and probably not extremely exciting to read. The most important parts to me were ones when I got hugs from students before bed; when students showed me work they had done purely to receive my exclamation of satisfaction; when a student came to me with her concerns; when students were shocked to see me wearing glasses and having unbrushed hair. I loved finding out the interests of a particular student just as much as I loved sharing my own. The time we spent together was productive and quick, and I can see it helping me as I work with them more in the classroom.

Just to explain my title for this post: Soil percolation was done by students as they tested soil samples around the campus. It taught me and them new words! Coyote mucus was from a night hike we embarked on. We were not allowed to use flashlights because it was an exercise in using our senses. On the topic of smell, the ranger leading the group said she had brought a vial of coyote mucus for us to put around our nostrils in the hope that it would enhance our sense of smell. I wasn’t sure if it was real or not but did notice a difference in smelling sweet fern the second time around. Of course, I was really relieved to find out it was just water. The homesick tears were from a student on the last night of our trip, and she exhausted herself after about an hour of heavy crying. I understand that it was bound to happen, and I am glad to say that she seemed much better the next morning. And finally, the Ort Report was done at the end of each meal by rangers. It was a measurement of how much waste there was after breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Students were to learn about portion control and how much food they really would consume. After 5 meals, we ended with 13 pounds, which I don’t think was too bad.

I have to say that, if you ever have the opportunity for an overnight field trip with your students, you should take it. They will be glad to learn in a new setting, and you will all learn more about each other. If I could do the trip over with both 7th and 8th grade, I would. Those 3 days and 2 nights were probably the most fulfilling days I’ll end up having, simply because I learned, students learned, and we all had fun doing it.

Can I Trust You?

The other day, I had a conversation with a friend concerning a professor of my college. She was concerned about an evaluation she had received and wasn’t sure how to go about addressing it without making it appear like she was attacking the teacher. It was especially difficult to try and figure out who she could talk with. Can you talk with a professor about one of their colleagues? Are there lines you cannot cross? Are there things they cannot be told? It made me think about the true confidentiality of speaking with a teacher, no matter how old the student may be, and how much trust a student actually has in any one teacher.

I’ve been overhearing middle school students I work with speaking of how teachers don’t catch everything. That teachers are sometimes part of the problem. It made me really sad because I care an awful lot about making sure students feel safe at school. They may not always like being there, but they shouldn’t have to worry about showing up at school and receiving negative treatment from peers or superiors. In terms of confidentiality, students shouldn’t be afraid to talk to a teacher. We are supposed to be there for their benefit. What good is being done when they can’t talk to us, whether it’s about homework or their personal life? If there are certain people they should be referred to instead, it should be made clear, not left up to the student to figure out. I want my students to know that I am there to help them learn but also to be an ear to speak to and a shoulder to cry on. That doesn’t make me a babysitter. It makes me into the kind of teacher I want to be.

When I was in high school, I had an incredible teacher, one I still keep in touch with. What made her so amazing was that I could literally speak to her about anything, whether it had to do with my home life or my performance in classes other than the one she taught. I didn’t feel like I was breaking some rule by venting about how annoyed I would get with a certain teacher. I felt like it was easy to ask her for advice on friendships and family relationships. I do understand that this idea of teachers being someone students can speak to freely isn’t entertained by everyone. It can certainly get out of hand and turn into a problem, especially when what a teacher is being told is something that can’t be kept a secret. But that shouldn’t be enough to give students the impression that teachers are only for speaking to about school and once the bell rings, they’re on their own. Even in college, if there is a concern with a specific professor, it shouldn’t be scary or difficult to speak about that with someone. No teacher is perfect. One will always have at least one student with whom they don’t get along well with. Whether that makes them a bad teacher or not depends. All I want to be able to do is answer the question from a student asking, “Can I trust you?” with a definite, “Yes.”