Articles

Ms. Simmons had two first-grade boys by the arms. “Fighting in the bathroom,” she said. “Send them home.” It’s the second week of day camp hosted at our school. The policy is strict: Two strikes and you’re out. On the one hand, it makes sense. It’s summer camp. Camp should be safe and enjoyable for all children. It’s hard to feel comfortable when you’re worried there might be a fight. There’s no mandate for children to be here. It’s optional and a privilege.

The face of America is changing.In 40 years, the United States will become a minority-majority nation – a remarkable milestone for a country that already boasts one of the most religiously, ethnically and racially diverse societies in the world.But you wouldn’t know it looking at our nation’s schools. Census and school data tell a very different story.

When you hear about a school bully, you might automatically picture that big-for-his-age fifth grade boy or a teen girl whose manner of dress and speech makes her look and sound a bit rough and tough. All too often, however, school bullies are actually the grown-ups in charge.

When I announced the annual personal narrative assignment, my students groaned. Every year I get the same response. Most of my students would rather write fantasy or even research papers than compose a story about something real, but the state standard in Oregon requires the narrative.

One of the simplest ways to foster compassion and understanding in our classrooms is to give students opportunities to share stories about their lives. By communicating and listening, students can break down stereotypes and see each other as real people. This can be done through curriculum-related projects such as personal narrative and poetry or as part of a daily class meeting.

A war on obesity is raging. Everyone from Jillian Michaels to Michelle Obama is calling for all Americans to lose the fat. But as doctors spend millions of dollars on fat-shaming billboards targeting children and studies proving that dieting simply doesn’t work, one might ask where does encouragement end and bullying begin?

In New Orleans it’s called “mess.” That cancerous, manipulative drama that teenage girls get wrapped up in every year. We dealt with our share of it this year at my school, most of it within the seventh grade. It came to a head with two strong-willed young ladies yelling from behind their desks, exchanging threats and insults.

This past February, our school abandoned the traditional Valentine’s Day love note exchange, opting instead to encourage school-wide participation in a new activity we called the “Valentine’s Day Apology Note Project.”

In a recent discussion about a history reading, I asked students if they understood the need to think critically about what we read, even if the reading is labeled “historical.”

Rodrigue drove me nuts. He stood too close and talked too much. If his hand was raised and I didn’t call on him, his face would contort and he would put his head down on his desk. He answered questions with a “know-it-all” tone that the other students (and I) found obnoxious.