The Jean Gene

I am an art teacher in a public high school in New York City. One day, I was in the middle of giving instructions to class showing the students how to begin a complex project. Suddenly, a loud, insistent voice pealed out.

“Miss, Miss! I have been asking you and asking you if I can move my seat and you won’t answer me.”

“I did answer you” I calmly responded. “And the answer was no.”

It stopped the young man in his tracks. In fact, the whole class had an instant attention upgrade as they heard my directness.

“That’s Jean,” I thought.

The wisdom, clarity and thoroughness of my mom, Jean, came right out of me. It was not the first time that Jean had come to my rescue. She has worked with children for most of her lifetime and she is very direct, clear and no nonsense. Jean is also fun, lively and nurturing. All very handy things for teaching a bunch of expressive high school students.

While growing up, I didn’t appreciate that directness. It wasn’t always her words. Mom can freeze the action with a look.  It is a “refocus-and-rethink-your-life-choices” kind of a look. She is masterful.

When I was a newer teacher, with only fledgling classroom management skills I craved her ability to command a room, a person or situation. I remember trying “the look” in my 1st year of teaching. It didn’t work. Then I resorted to raising my voice, which was even less successful.

I kept wondering, “How did she do that look thing?”

Not too long ago, Marissa*, a none-too-happy 16 year-old approached me between classes and said:

“Miss, why did you give me a low grade?”

I listened respectfully as she expressed herself, and then I responded.

“Why did I give you the grade of your choice? Because I respect you, Marissa. I honored your request.”

Marissa stopped mid-thought and looked at me. Now we could talk. I had her attention.

“For example, when your work demonstrates a full understanding of the subject and your perspective, Marissa, that is an “A” request. I honor that. Turning in a messy, incomplete assignment, that says ‘I have no intention nor desire to earn an A?’ Request granted. Not turning in an assignment at all? Another request granted. A one-word contribution to classroom discussions when I know you are capable of using complete sentences, is also a request for a lower grade. I’m happy to look back with you at your choices.”

“No, Miss, I know, I didn’t turn in everything,” Marissa admitted sheepishly and then her face lit up. “I also remember I wasn’t always on time for class, either.”

I smiled at her.

“Thank you for coming to me. I can see you care. With this kind of fire, we can work. We can talk about your plans for earning a better grade going forward. Okay?”

Marissa nodded enthusiastically. As she headed to her next class, she was even smiling.

I suddenly realized that I didn’t have to work to embody my mom’s directness and “look” – it had already happened. It is a natural way of being for me now.

These days, I borrow skill-sets everywhere. For example, I take Transformational communication courses. One of the benefits of these personal/professional development seminars is I have learned to see my actions, my choices and even my thoughts. My participation in these courses doesn’t make me an awesome teacher; they open the door, and it is up to me to walk through.

I keep training to be direct, without second-guessing myseIf and find I am empowered to be skillful, graceful and facile in my teaching. The more I recognize the practices and ways of being I want to exemplify, the more I can nurture them and they grow.

I also regularly learn and borrow from other amazing teachers in my school. I have gotten great new ideas about many things, such as classroom organization and how to use humor with students to teach a challenging subject or concept. When I have seen another educator being generous with their experience and knowledge, it has inspired me to be generous also.

One day in class, I saw an 11th grader, Samuel, storming towards another student, preparing to confront him. I simply looked. Samuel froze, mid-stride, when he saw I had my attention on him. I smiled.

“Good choice, Samuel.” I said.

I had given him “the look.” I didn’t even try to do it.

Yes, it’s true. I have inherited the “refocus-and-rethink-your-life-choices” gene from Jean. I have given myself permission to embody her greatness.

The look isn’t something that she does. It’s who she is. It is a reflection of being direct, clear, here. It is a state of being.

*Students’ names are fictional.