We Teach What We Learn

When I was about 4, I decided I really wanted to try taking a shower with my socks on. Not because wet socks are pleasant, of course (they are most definitely, definitely not), but because it was so contrary to the very nature of both showers and socks. It was weird for the sake of weird, and that intrigued me. I asked my mom if I could give this peculiar experience a go...

So I tried taking a shower with my socks on.

Socks I will not be wearing in the shower, because I know better now.
Bonus cat paw, that also know better than to include in the shower. 

A little later, when I was maybe 8, I decided I wanted to bake cookies without a recipe-- just make the whole plan up, based on my (admittedly limited) knowledge of baking. Mom said it was ok, as long as she got to help with the oven...

So I did. (I learned an important lesson: just because a substance is white and granulated does not make it sugar... and a cup of salt is very, very different from a cup of sugar.)


For my 10th birthday, Mom needed to hide the scavenger hunt goodies, and she needed us out of the way. She herded my group of friends into our small playroom, and left us with colored pencils, encouraging us to decorate the blank, white walls.

So we did. (And, yes, that was my best birthday ever. Thank you for asking.)

My mom is a teacher-- not just in the elementary school where she worked, but at home with my siblings and me. I'm sure she must have occasionally said no to ideas simply because she was too tired or too busy, but I don't remember that. I remember the yeses-- the opportunity to try things out for myself, to do things I was not quite old enough for, or also a little bit too old for. I grew up knowing that "yes" was a reasonable answer, that messy wasn't bad, and that experience is far more educational than any lecture.

Her mom was a teacher before her, and I am a teacher now, too. I'm not sure if it's genetic, but it's definitely learned. When students ask if they can do something, I always think about it. Any student of mine will tell you that I don't say yes to everything, but I hope they would also tell you that I genuinely consider their ideas-- and that if I say no, I have a good reason.

There are so many things I can say yes to, and those things affect their learning either positively or neutrally.

I have my hills to die on (for goodness' sake, stop talking when I am talking), but I will absolutely take students' ideas into consideration...

...which is why we once had a round of Otter Pops in the middle of fifth period, or why we ran outside to stand in the buckets of snow that poured down on Friday, or why sometimes kids sit under their desks to work. It's why we're currently putting Marcus and Narcissa Whitman on trial, in a full-on courtroom case, rather than just writing argumentative paragraphs (though we'll do that, too!). It's why we spend 5 minutes outside, rainbow-hunting, if the weather suggests the colors are just waiting to be spotted.

It's why my classroom contains a mix of chairs, desks, standing desks, Hokki stools, yoga ball chairs, floor pillows, and stuffed animals.

It's why we drink tea.

And yeah, sometimes that takes a few minutes away from the "Washington State History" part of the curriculum, but there's a lot I'm trying teach other than that.

And if they also learn that it's worth asking for outrageous, joyful things, because sometimes the answer is yes?

That's a lesson I'm fine with teaching. It's one, after all, that I'm really glad to have learned.