I Can't Relate

For those of you that are out of the loop, I started teaching high school this year. I'd like to share something. The gifs should help. It has been an adventure for sure. After teaching 6th grade for four years, I thought I knew what teaching was. I thought I knew what I was doing. But I don't. Teaching is one of the most complex things I've ever done.


To put things in perspective, here's an analogy:
Imagine for a second what a computer programmer does (I  know this is reductive, but bear with me for a second). They sit down at a computer and they write complex directions for the computer to follow. The computer does exactly what it is told. Sometimes that isn't what the programmer wants, so he iterates until the computer is doing what he wants. But all in all, the programmer speaks in a language the computer can understand and together they make something greater.

Now imagine for a second that the computer doesn't even have the database to understand the language the programmer is typing in. Imagine that the programmer had to teach the computer basic logic and give it an operating system before he could give it directions. Now imagine that each computer that he works with is different. Some have gaps in their operating systems. Some were taught to do certain functions really well, and others not at all. Imagine that some computers opened up random programs and starting browsing the internet of their own accord while the programmer was trying to do his job. Then imagine some computers didn't eat breakfast that morning. Then imagine that some computers had been abused by previous owners. Some are even missing basic hardware. Now imagine that the government mandates that every single one of the 200 computers he's given needs to understand and successfully run the new program, and he has 9 months to do it. Oh yeah, and cut his average pay in half.

Hopefully this gives you a better understanding of what it's like to teach. I'm not complaining, however (except maybe about the pay). All of this is a digression. What I really wanted to share was a realization that I've had about teaching high school.

6th graders idolized me, mostly because I was the first male teacher they'd had. It was much easier to build rapport with them because they are so young and they just want to be heard and appreciated. Most high schoolers have a thicker shell. They need to be coaxed into a relationship of trust with a tremendous amount of patience. I naively thought that this would be easier than it has been. I thought the rapport would come naturally as it did with younger students.

Here was my misconception: "I'll be able to relate to high school students because I was in their shoes not too long ago."

I hope you just laughed at my naivete. I can now. There's two major things wrong with this statement:

1. "Not too long ago" was actually a very long time ago. I'm old. I don't think I'm old. But to my students I am. I'm twice their age. I graduated when they were infants (2005). I might as well be their grandfather. I know they know I'm younger than most of their other teachers, but they don't care. I'm still old.

2. I can't relate.

Here's what the rest of the post is about. I really can't relate to these kids. I consider myself caught up on my pop culture. I know the memes they joke about. I understand their slang (although I can't use it. Trust me, I tried, and it had disastrously awkward consequences. But we joke about it now). I can intellectually understand some of the things they might be going through. But intellectually understanding is akin to sympathy, not empathy.

For instance, I can't relate to having the social acceptance of my peers revolve around my online presence. I can't relate to never being able to escape judgement. When I was their age, even if I was made fun of during the day, I could go home and leave it behind for at least a few hours. I had a reprieve, they don't. In fact, the instrument of their torture and delight is forever attached to their bodies. And while the majority of my students have a somewhat healthy relationship with their phones, I can't relate to the ones who literally cannot fathom having their phone taken away. I'm being serious here.

The phone rules are pretty relaxed in my class. They just can't have them out when I'm teaching. I can remember the first time I tried taking the phone away from a girl. When I asked for it in a private moment, the look she gave me was not one of anger or resentment, it was of confusion. It was almost as if no one had ever suggested to her that she be without her phone. Once she understood what I was asking, she panicked and started bargaining and causing a scene, which was not my intent, so I told her to see me after class. In our ensuing conversation she apologized and rattled off ten excuses. And it has soured her attitude toward me for the rest of the year. Despite all this, she still needs to be reminded to put her phone away almost daily.

Some not in my shoes might think I'm being too easy on her, but I know I'm making the right decision when I think of that look she first gave me. Old-school hard-ass teachers might suggest the rules are the rules and they need to be enforced, outside consequences be damned. She's the student, she does what she's told. But what they fail to comprehend is that taking away a phone doesn't mean taking away an entertainment device. For some of them, it is like sending some students into drug withdrawals. For some of them, it means removing social connection. For some of them, it means removing an (artificial) self-esteem booster. For some of them, it means not knowing where their friends are going for lunch. For some of them, it means social death.

Now, I haven't commented on the ethics of their co-dependency on technology because that's a huge discussion. The simple fact is that it is what it is. Regardless of how we may feel, we need to meet these students where they are if their situation is going to improve.

Again, I can't relate with any of this, so my approach has been one of compassion rather than condemnation. And if that means trying to teach them healthy boundaries with a reminder every single day, then that's what I'll do.

I can't relate to kids struggling with suicidal ideation. I can't relate to the staggering numbers of girls self-harming (1 in 4). I can't relate to the boys who hate girls because they are so incredibly lonely and hurt.

I simply can't relate.

But I can try. And I won't stop. Despite the crappy pay.





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