What Great Teachers Do Differently

by Todd Whitaker

  By the same token, the best teachers keep school issues in their place. I recently worked with a high school that was debating whether to initiate block scheduling. Teachers had strong opinions on both sides of the issue. What caught my attention, though, was the ferocity of the student involvement. In some classes, the teachers actively lobbied for or against the change. Some encouraged their students to initiate petitions, or drummed up parent attendance at school board meetings. Other teachers never brought up the issue in their classrooms; if the subject did come up, they addressed it calmly. Instead of fanning the flames of controversy, the best teachers had a quieting influence.

  “This Is the Worst Group of Kids We’ve Ever Had”

  Have you ever heard this refrain? It seems that the same two or three teachers start the chant at about the same time each year. They are tired. The honeymoon with their students has long been over, and they have not developed the critical positive relations in their classrooms when February and March roll around. Such complaining doesn’t help to solve the problem—and indeed, in my experience such statements usually have no basis in fact.

  After a recent evening of parent conferences, I heard a teacher complain, “They only care about their child!” I chuckled to myself, wondering which children she expected the parents to care about. (When you take your car to the mechanic, do you care much whether the car in the next bay gets fixed that day?) Would that teacher prefer to confer with parents who don’t care about their child?

  Whenever I hear someone complain about “this group of kids,” I think again of the auto mechanic. “Sorry, sir, I wasn’t able to fix your car—due to budget cuts, all the auto shops have a really high car-to-mechanic ratio this year.” Would that excuse make the customer feel better? “This is the worst group of cars I’ve ever had!” I don’t know about you, but at that point I’d start looking for another mechanic.

  Perception Can Become Reality

  As educators, we understand that perceptions can become reality. People who say, “This is the worst group of kids,” soon start to believe it. Eventually, they start to treat them that way and, unfortunately, the students will start to behave accordingly. Effective educators understand that one of the best ways to alter perceptions is to provide other perceptions. I’ll give you an example from my first year as a principal.

  I was hired in July. I had not met any of the teachers. When I started working regularly, teachers began to drop by the office. One by one, they complained about the student body: “The worst group of kids we’ve ever had.” I was scared to death to start the school year. I remember thinking that these students must really be different than any other students in the world. I guess I was right; as I walked around the school and visited classes the first day, I realized that these students were so bad, they must have even skipped the first day!

  Of course, the students were there, and they were no different than the challenging students we all know. Yet I realized that the teachers’ perceptions indicated how they felt about the students and, ultimately, about teaching. If I could not change these perceptions, they would become reality before long. I pondered what to do.

  About a month into the school year, I attended the annual state conference. One session, billed as a roundtable discussion, turned out to be a gripe session for principals with each relating his or her “biggest problem.” I happened to sit next to the principal from a very wealthy school (we’ll call it Country Club High). I had always assumed that Country Club High could not possibly have problems. After all, they always had outstanding test scores, partly because of their clientele. Their sports teams were consistently winners, and their salaries were the highest in the state. Imagine my surprise when their leader described his school’s biggest problem as students “pantsing” drugs—putting drugs in their underwear so that they could not be searched. That really put things in perspective for me. I resolved to share this perspective with the teachers at my school.

  We are very fortunate to work in education. Sometimes we just forget how blessed we are.

  At the next faculty meeting I told the story. When I reported that I sat next to the principal of Country Club High, the faculty gasped as if I’d met a famous movie star. Then I told them that students at the most prestigious school in the state routinely hid drugs in their underwear. My staff was speechless. Finally, I described the biggest problem at our school: The door to Dennis Newton’s locker keeps sticking. Though they chuckled at my obvious attempt to downplay our issues, the teachers realized that many of the challenges posed by “the worst group of kids we’ve ever had” were closer to Dennis’ locker door problem than they were to “pantsing” drugs.

  We are very fortunate to work in education. Sometimes we just forget how blessed we are. By consistently filtering out the negatives that don’t matter and sharing a positive attitude, we can create a much more successful setting. Consciously or unconsciously, we decide the tone of our classrooms and of our school.

  Great teachers consistently filter out the negatives that don’t matter and share a positive attitude.

  11

  Don’t Need to Repair—Always Do Repair

  In Chapter 9, we discussed treating everyone with respect and dignity every day. This is the standard that we must all work toward, and the very best teachers come close. By the same token, most of us have worked with or for someone who was nice most of the time but would let the volcano erupt now and then. Unfortunately some of these tantrums may have resulted in personal hurts that never totally healed.

  When we, as educators, lapse into such behaviors, we may never know the damage we have caused. If we become impatient and unprofessional, we are much more likely to throw darts. Though we may get over it, our targets may not. Sure, the students may still act polite toward us. After all, what choice do they have? This is especially true if they fear receiving such treatment again. However, the relationship may never be the same. Effective teachers understand this, so they try to treat people respectfully every day. They know that a relationship, once damaged, may never be the same. That is one reason that effective educators—both principals and teachers—are so sensitive to every single statement they make or action they take. They work to avoid actions that cause hurt feelings. The most effective among us go beyond that.

  Some Never Need to Repair—But Always Do

  One of the things I notice about the best teachers is that they seldom engage in the behaviors that cause harm to students. They don’t make cutting remarks or issue smart retorts. They don’t run students down or embarrass them in front of their peers. Quite the opposite: The best teachers consistently compliment and praise students. Yet, though the best teachers seldom need to do any emotional repairing in their classrooms, they are continually working to repair, just in case.

  Picture the most dynamic teachers in your school. They are the ones who are most likely to start off their class on a Tuesday morning by apologizing about something they did on Monday: “Class, I am sorry if I seemed a little impatient yesterday. I wasn’t feeling well and I was running late. I want to let you know that I am sorry if I was a little short to any of you.”

  The class, of course, is sitting there with blank stares. They thought yesterday’s class was great—actually, the best class they had all day. This shows not only the teacher’s incredible sensitivity, but also the level of trust and credibility established with students. As we noted before, the best teachers have high expectations for others, but much higher expectations for themselves. The best educators work hard to keep their relationships in good repair—to avoid personal hurt and to repair any possible damage—and others notice.

  Let’s contrast this approach with that of the less effective teachers and principals.

  Some Always Need to Repair—But Never Do

  Think about the less skilled teachers in your school. Picture the ones who are most confrontational. Visualize their mannerisms, body language, and tone of voice. How do they treat the students when
they are in a bad mood? Think of how they tread on students’ feelings and self-worth. (Sorry to put you in a bad mood, but we needed to have specific individuals in mind.) Now, do they ever treat people, either students or adults, in a way that might hurt someone’s feelings? Do they ever need to do some repair work? Of course. Unfortunately, you know this, and so does everyone else in their classrooms and in the school. The only ones who probably don’t know this are the offenders themselves.

  Intentionally or not, people like this regularly offend and insult others. Their reasons may not be as significant as their actions, especially to the person they just affronted. Yet these same individuals seldom recognize the need to repair. And more significantly, they seldom work to repair.

  This has two implications. First, instead of focusing on getting them to admit they were wrong or forcing them to apologize, we really need to put our time and energies into helping build their “people skills.” Otherwise, they will constantly wrestle with the issue of repair. We must center our efforts on changing their approach so that they do not need to repair.

  Second, however, we want to make it easier for them to repair. What keeps them from apologizing? Usually, what stands in the way is their lack of self-confidence or—often the flip side of the same coin—their pride or ego. We may not be able to deal with these issues directly, but if we can find a way that enables them to apologize, then we can change their behaviors without necessarily altering their beliefs. Let’s take a look at one method.

  I Am Sorry That Happened

  In the book Dealing with Difficult Parents (And with Parents in Difficult Situations), I describe a tool that an educator can use to defuse aggressive parents. No matter what the details of a situation, an educator can tell the parent, “I am sorry that happened.” And the amazing thing is, it’s really true. Any time I deal with a belligerent parent, regardless of the issue, I truly am sorry that it happened (whatever “it” is).

  I am not saying it was my fault; I am not accepting or placing blame; I am just sorry that it happened. And the more offensive the parent is, the sorrier I am that it happened! To myself I am adding, “I sure am sorry it happened, otherwise I wouldn’t be spending this time with you!” Of course we would never share our private thoughts with these people, and we must always maintain a professional attitude. This is also a type of filtering. Nevertheless, the simple statement, “I am sorry that happened,” is a powerful defusing technique.

  Of course, this is not limited to parents. Any time anyone shares bad news with me, I really am sorry it happened. If a colleague’s grant application is turned down, “I am so sorry that happened.” If a child falls and skins her knee, “I am so sorry that happened.” Again, I am not saying that I tripped her, I am just sorry it happened.

  Every teacher reading this book may already know and use this approach. But the real challenge is not developing and practicing this skill ourselves, but teaching students and other teachers the skill. If they learn to use it regularly, they will have to do a lot less repairing in the future. In particular, if our most negative students and teachers can master this skill, what a service to them (and to us and to our school).

  So, we might start by suggesting that if a parent is attacking a teacher, regardless of the circumstances that teacher should be able to say, professionally and with empathy, “I am so sorry that happened.” With our most resistant colleagues, we might share a little more of our internal dialogue. If they need to add to themselves, “because otherwise I wouldn’t be spending my time with you,” that’s okay. After all, they don’t need to like the parent—they only need to act that way. They can even add to themselves, “as a matter of fact, I am a little sorry you moved into our district!” This is probably something we have all felt at times.

  Of course, we must emphasize that as professionals, we can never be sarcastic or demeaning in our tone of voice or body language. However, on the inside we can be whatever we want. After all, what we most need these less positive teachers to do is to change their behavior. And if they change for selfish reasons, that doesn’t matter. The critical issue isn’t why, but whether they changed their behavior.

  As a principal, I made an effort to develop and refine these skills in every staff member. But beyond that, we can reap great benefits if we teach them to our students.

  The Highway Patrol

  We have identified skills that we know are important to being a successful professional. As educators, we need to work to develop these abilities in our students. Some of our students have them to some degree, but many have not been exposed to them at all. For them, teachers who regularly practice the skill of repairing can serve as an important role model. But in addition to modeling the skill, we may also need to teach it.

  As a principal, I had many opportunities to teach this skill. Think of all the students who are referred to the office for being uncooperative or argumentative with a teacher. Now, with all discipline matters, it is essential that we focus on prevention, not punishment. We can’t do anything about the fact that the incident occurred; all we can do is try to keep it from happening again. However, we do know that each student can work to repair the current situation. This is our opportunity to help them learn how repairing relations can be to their advantage.

  Here’s a scenario:

  Johnny gets sent to my office out of Mrs. Smith’s class. When he arrives, I ask him, “Johnny, what happened?” He responds that Mrs. Smith sent him to the office for arguing with her. The referral form he brought confirms his story. “Was Mrs. Smith mad?” Johnny affirms the obvious, “Yeah, she was real mad.” This is my opportunity to share with Johnny the story of the highway patrol.

  “Johnny, I am not going to decide your consequence until I go and talk to Mrs. Smith in person.” (This sound practice should be a habit in your school. It is part of making teachers feel supported.) “And Johnny, I won’t have a chance to see her until after lunch. So, if I were in your shoes, when the bell rings at the end of this class period I would hightail it down to Mrs. Smith’s classroom and I’d apologize. I would say something like,” (giving Johnny the specific language to use) “Mrs. Smith, I am sorry that . . .”

  Why must I give Johnny the word-for-word language? Because he may not have it himself. Telling someone to do something without teaching him how makes no sense at all. So I teach him what to say. Now, how do I actually get him to do it? Simple: I make it a benefit to him to do it.

  I continue with the dialogue.

  “And Johnny, I’m not asking you to go and apologize for my sake. And you don’t even have to apologize for Mrs. Smith’s sake. It’s up to you—but if I were you, I would apologize for your own sake.” “For me?” Johnny asks. “Yes, for you.” This is where the highway patrol comes in.

  “If I am driving down the highway and I get pulled over by a patrolman, when that patrolman is walking toward my car I have one goal. What is that goal?”

  “To get out of the ticket.”

  “That’s right. And I have two choices in my behavior: I can be nice, or I can be rude. Which is more likely to get me out of the ticket?”

  “Being nice.”

  “And you know that my goal in being nice is selfish. It isn’t to help the state revenue department. It isn’t to help the highway patrolman. It is to help me—by making it more likely will get out of the ticket. So if I were you, when that bell rings I’d scoot on down to Mrs. Smith’s class and I would say something like...” (I give him the language again, just to ensure that he has it.)

  “And you said Mrs. Smith was mad, didn’t you?”

  “Yep, real mad.”

  “Well, if you want to see her mad again, just tell her that you’re apologizing because I told you to. Now you do what you want, but if I were in your shoes I’d head down to Mrs. Smith’s class when that bell rings and I would apologize.”

  The bell rings, and guess what Johnny does? He heads down to Mrs. Smith and apologizes. When I see her after lunch, I ask what happ
ened with Johnny. She says that he came down and apologized and everything is fine. Whose job just got easier? Mine, of course!

  Now I may still need to give Johnny a consequence, because twenty-five other students saw his behavior. Yet he can still be reinforced by saying, “Because you apologized I am only going to...” This way I still encourage the apology. And what if Johnny doesn’t go and see Mrs. Smith? I’ve lost nothing. It didn’t work this time, but it might work in the future.

  If principals and teachers take the opportunity to teach students the behaviors that repair a situation instead of escalating it, our jobs become easier and their lives become better. After all, no matter what professions our students enter, they will probably need to deal with supervisors. The way they respond could determine whether they succeed in that job, to say nothing of their encounters with the highway patrol.

  Some students already have the skill of repairing. A student who has spent the last ten minutes of chemistry class with his head on the desk might stop on his way out of class to explain that he had to work late at his after-school job. A student who has snickered during a classmate’s presentation may apologize on his own. Effective teachers reinforce these behaviors. They also take advantage of teachable moments to help other students build the skill of repairing.

  Effective teachers take advantage of teachable moments.

  Furthermore, effective teachers don’t wait for problems or confrontations to arise before they begin this endeavor. Educators have developed an abundance of materials designed to introduce and strengthen the skills of conflict resolution in students from preschool to high school and beyond. When effective teachers bring these exercises to life in their classrooms, they do more than alleviate classroom discipline problems and prepare their students for success in the work environment. These great teachers help to build a more peaceful world.