The Kids are The Story

Another school year is underway, which is an opportunity for everyone — new and experienced teachers, parents, students — to reflect what they hope for in the school year.

With newer teachers I've been around, I may hear them say,

"I want to be student centered"

With parents, I may hear,

"I want a teacher to see the best in my kid"

Or the most important stakeholders of them all, the students, whether they say it out loud or not, they might think,

"I want a teacher who understands who I am"

Inherently in these wishes is something really important: it's important to learn about the kids walking into our classrooms. And as someone who spends a meaningful part of his days both teaching and writing stories, I get excited thinking about how similar teaching and storytelling are in this way.

The start of a good story and a good school year involve learning about the incredible, complex, and interesting people we're going to work with.

Over time, we might learn about what makes them interesting. We might find out their strengths and the areas they struggle with. We may discover the situations that cause them stress and the ones that bring out the best in them. And if we're lucky, we may even learn about their dreams. We might find out what really matters to them.

It's important for kids to know these things about themselves, too. By the time young people graduate high school, we hope they know enough about themselves to speak up for what they need, recognize their strengths, and have some sense of what matters to them.

The thing is — kids may not know their strengths if we ask them. If they are like some of my wonderful middle and high school students, they may meet our attempts to learn about who they are with vague answers and shrugged shoulders.

When asked when they feel at their best or the situations that stress them out, they struggle with putting words to it. Or, they really may not know.

Kids might learn through their life experience, their mistakes, their relationships, but they need tools. Sometimes, kids need an adult's help to reflect on these things. They need an adult to learn parts of who they are, too.

And that journey starts with that question at the beginning of the school year:

Who is the kid coming into my classroom?

Now, Dear Reader, this is my first blog post. I've left out the long list that was in the first draft of this, lest I lose my expansive, global audience already. And I'll share the main thing I thought about on my bike ride home the other day:

In the beginning of the school year…in the beginning of the story,

Just start by noticing.

For now, let's slow down.

Open the book. The kids are the story.

And let's start by noticing.