Goals for the Spring


 
Sometimes these posts really are meant to be shared. I want them read by as many eye-balls as can read them because I believe that there is an important message. And sometimes, this blog is simply my online place of reflection, and I could care less if my parents and wife were the only ones to click on the link. This post is the latter. So if you're uninterested in reading my personal journal, save yourself the time and keep surfing the web!

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A mentor of mine, Jason Steliga, advised me at the start of my second year of teaching that I needed to know what I wanted to teach the kids, not so much in terms of content but in terms of the bigger life lessons. That year, I came up with organization and two others that I don't remember. Clearly they were significant.* Each year after that, I've tried to think more about the bigger things that I want to teach; the things that my kids will (hopefully) remember when they think about our classroom as adults.

*Not really.

One of those goals that I've decided to focus on is empathy/kindness/respect. History is all about stories. Those stories are often about people who look and think and act and pray differently than you do. If you are unable to practice empathetic thought, you're more likely to dismiss the other as dangerous, savage, uncivilized or whatever other negative connotation you can come up. This ability to empathize is especially important for teens as they are learning how to think about the world around them. I believe that these lessons in empathy are more important than any lesson about the French Revolution.

One of the side effects of having a kid is that I never got around to taking the time to sit down and think about specific goals for the year. I knew that empathy was one and I knew that organization was one. But I did not take the time to think through how I would weave those themes into my lessons throughout the year. It's something I've done each year since Jason talked to me, but not this year.

When I think about the six groups of kids that I have, it's pretty hit and miss when it comes to the progress that we've made as a group. Four of my classes have been incredible. The kids are active and participate. They like each other and, with some small exceptions, are kind and respectful of each other. But the other two are decidedly not successful when it comes to empathetic thoughts and actions. There are regular incidents where kids are rude towards each other.



I handle the situations as they arise. I've called more parents in these two classes combined than I have in the other four in an effort to adjust behavior. I've started implementing elementary-level behavior plans for specific students who really struggle.

More than anything else, though, when I think about these two classes I think about the amount of time that I feel that I struggle with them. I can feel the frustration well up inside of me just thinking about it. I know in my heart of hearts that these two classes need my love and time and understanding, as well as my discipline and my sternness. It is the ultimate balancing act, which I know that I have failed for the first four months of the school year.

And that's why I needed the break. I need to be ready to start fresh with these classes because I know that my tone effects their attitudes. Towards the end of the year, those two classes knew that I was frustrated with them as a group and this affected how they behaved. It was a classic lesson in how the expectations of the teacher effect the real behavior of the students. Students who are expected to misbehave, will, more often than not, misbehave! Students who are expected to excel will likewise often excel! 

A Chanel and Shanell sandwich selfie!
I was thinking over break about other careers. That's easy to do as you sit and talk to (in my case, a very large) family about their lives and what they do each day. It's easy to know the paycheck, see the perks. But each career I thought about, I wondered how I could teach as a part of that career.

I love to teach. I get taken away from teaching in my classroom through things that I cannot control (standardized testing, students' emotional needs, etc...) but often when I get away from truly teaching is when I get emotionally overwhelmed. To really teach a topic, you have to love the topic and you have to love the student. You can get by without loving one of those two, but it won't be teaching at its best.

Often during my breaks, I will recharge on both of those. I listen to a lot of NPR, which I would do about 15 hours a day if I had the choice. I read a lot of TIME Magazine and Politico articles and peruse the web for different things related to what's happening in ours and other governments. I have awesome friends on Facebook who link fun historical stuff to me all the time. I am able to fall back in love with the topics that I teach in class.

And probably more importantly, I'm able to fall back in love in with my students. I am able to remember the wonderful things that they do that get lost in the sludge. I get a chance to look through my Twitter and Instagram feeds and remember the wonderful pictures I've taken with and of my kids. The classes that have been frustrating - I get a chance to reflect on why with a little less passion and a little more logic. The student that I've wanted to scream at - I am able to think more clearly about how to get that student involved in the learning in my classroom so that they don't hate every minute that they are in my room. 

One of my government classes during finals week, trying to decompress the stress!

I had the pleasure of traveling with the Center Youth in Government Delegation to Jefferson City again this year.

With all that in mind, here are my three goals for this semester:

1. Don't get angry or yell at a student. Once.

2. Involve organization in the lesson every single day.

3. Continue to teach empathy and compassion. Continue growing with the four classes that are going well and win over the two classes that are not.

4. Work with every 9th grader to write a coherent, logical, strong argumentative essay.*

*Woof

I'll come back to this post in May and see how I did!


What are your goals for the Spring?

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Thanks for reading this blog! I hope you'll consider taking a moment to comment below and turn this into a conversation. Whether you are an educator or not, we have all had common experiences with education both good and bad. I want to hear what you think! 

About Me:
My name is Alec Chambers. I am a high school history and government teacher at a small, urban public school in Kansas City called Center High School. We regularly kick tail. Among many awards, we were named a National Blue Ribbon School in 2014. I don't just teach at Center- I also graduated from Center in 2006 after attending Center Schools K-12. I have a degree in Political Science, a second degree in International Relations, a third degree in Education and a Master's of Arts in Teaching. I have an unofficial degree is soccer. All of those degrees have led me to the high-paying teaching profession! I have a newborn daughter and am married to the most awesome woman on the planet. Seriously. It's a proven fact.

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Memory Eternal, Papou



My birthday is in two days. I’m going to turn 28 and, among other emotions, that utterly blows my mind. I had a conversation with two of my younger cousins, probably 10 and 7, but their ages jumble in my mind in a big family like mine. They were holding my daughter, Kate, all of 7 months. They were adorable. Their care for Kate is real. I mentioned babysitting one day, and their eyes lit up with excitement. 

I looked over at my cousin Athena, also a teacher, who is nearly a decade older than me. I told the kids that their relationship with my daughter could be a lot like my relationship with Athena. She is older than me, and I’ve always been happy to look up to her. Kate will look up to them. She babysat me often when I was a kid. We’re the godparents together for another one of my younger cousins. I’m sure they will also babysit Kate.

I said to the kids that one day Kate would have a child of her own. They would likely have children too. Their kids would one day be as excited as they were to hold Kate’s kid. 

Yaya holding Kate at her first Greek Fest!
Another emotion that I feel these days is nostalgia. My family is quite incredible, and we’ve made a lot of memories together. Like any family, we all have our flaws. I’m a bit too stubborn, this cousin is a little selfish, that cousin doesn’t come around as much as we all wish. Nothing extraordinary, just regular family stuff. What makes my family so incredible is not so different from what might make your family incredible – it’s the older family members that make our family so special.

I’ve grown up identifying heavily with my Greek ethnicity, even though I’m technically only 50% Greek. I’ve travelled to Greece twice. I had a kick where I wanted to learn to speak Greek and got good enough to blend in while I was in Greece. I listen to Greek music, was a part of a ethnic Greek Dance Troupe until a year ago, love to cook Greek food – you get it. So we call my grandparents on my mom’s side, the Greek side, Yaya and Papou. (Pronounced yi-yuh and pah-poo

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Here’s a story. My papou loved our annual church golf tournament. It wasn’t because he loved to golf. In fact, I’m not sure I ever saw him swing a club. No, he loved to drive the beer cart and talk to people. That was his gift, to communicate, to love, to connect. Several times as a kid before I was old enough to play in the tournament, he would take me with him in the cart. 

Papou always collected things. That’s another memory. He would come home from garage sales with junk upon junk. Sometimes I remember Yaya getting mad, but mostly we all just kind of laughed at the hobby and marveled that he could ever find anything in his garage. 

One of the things that he liked to collect were golf clubs. So this particular year, probably when I was 7 or 8, Papou brought out a putter with him so that I could go onto empty greens and putt the ball around while we were driving around the course. And so it was, every few holes, we’d pull up to a green, I would go putt and he would stay in the cart talking and watching me. 

One of my flaws, especially growing up, was that I let things simmer under the surface. I always acted calm, but I often had anger or frustration waiting to explode out of me. This flaw used to come out on the golf course. As anyone who has ever played golf can attest, it can be so infuriating. And so it was with me that day at the church golf tournament; I kept missing the putt I was hitting, getting more frustrated and frustrated, and eventually felt like I was going to snap. So I looked over to the cart and when I saw that Papou was not looking, I slammed the putter into the ground. This was not the first time I had done this with a club. It felt good, then immediately bad. This time, the head of the putter broke off and stayed lodged in the soil. I picked it up and jogged over the cart and told Papou that the club had broke and that I wasn’t sure how it happened. I claimed that I was using it like a walking stick and, snap, it popped off. 

Papou didn’t say anything, but he didn’t seem mad either. Thinking back, I know that he knew what I had done. Clubs don’t break themselves. But in the moment, I thought I had gotten away with it. I hopped in the cart and we went on our way, delivering beer to the golfers and having a good time.
As we were walking out to the car to go home after the tournament had ended, Papou put his arm around me and told me that he loved me. I’ll never forget that hug and all of the guilt that it brought out inside of me. On the drive home, as we were nearing my house, he talked for the first time in the car ride – Someday your anger is going to break something that can’t be repaired.

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Papou  holding one of his many great-grandkids.
I will always remember that lesson. I will always remember him teaching me to drive a stick-shift in his old, beaten up brown pick-up truck in the giant parking lot behind the old Honeywell Plant. I will always remember warm summers floating in the pool, eating kolouria made fresh from Yaya’s kitchen and Papou’s hands. I will always remember Papou and Uncle Jim arguing about the Royals and the Chiefs. I will always remember carving miniatures out of bars of soap. I will always remember the airplane models, the Braniff cups and napkins, the stories - made up and real - of people who he got to talk with during his days with Braniff or in the Air Force.
 
I will remember these things and I will cherish these memories and I will never forget that they are more important than a houseful of objects. I will cherish watching Kate grow into a young woman, having kids of her own and getting to make my entire life about their happiness and comfort, just as my Yaya and Papou have always done for their kids and their grandkids. I will savor every moment watching my younger cousins help teach Kate how to play, and learn and laugh and fight.
And in the midst of all of the joy and happiness, I will occasionally get sad. 

Five years ago today, Papou passed away. It was merciful – he had not had an enjoyable end to his life. But it was hard nonetheless. I will get sad thinking about Yaya alone in her house in between the moments of noise and chaos when the kids come to visit her. I will get sad thinking about my dad and how I can call him whenever I want, knowing that my mom no longer has this joy. I will get sad sitting in church in the same pew our family has sat in for decades, almost able to feel the presence of Papou and hear his voice sing along with the ancient chants. 

And then I’ll find my wife, Kate, my parents, my brother, Yaya, all of my cousins – I’ll find these people and I’ll know that they are Papou. That is why our family is so special, and why your family is so special. We are the living embodiment of all the people who have come before us. We are their voice, their song, their prayer, their lesson, their love. We are them. We are all Papou because we carry him with us in every moment. We hear his voice, and through us, that voice is passed down to our children. 

One last story, from Papou’s last 4th of July. My wife, mom and I marched through his bedroom singing songs and shooting off imaginary fireworks with our hands. Papou let out several of his full-belly laughs that we all heard too rarely in his last months of life. But in that moment, on that day, Papou was happy. I can close my eyes and hear that laugh, see that smile, feel his hands. I’ll never forget that moment. I’ll never forget Papou. 

May your memory be eternal, Papou. 
 

Thanks for reading this blog! I hope you'll consider taking a moment to comment below and turn this into a conversation. Whether you are an educator or not, we have all had common experiences with education both good and bad. I want to hear what you think! 

About Me:
My name is Alec Chambers. I am a high school history and government teacher at a small, urban public school in Kansas City called Center High School. We regularly kick tail. Among many awards, we were named a National Blue Ribbon School in 2014. I don't just teach at Center- I also graduated from Center in 2006 after attending Center Schools K-12. I have a degree in Political Science, a second degree in International Relations, a third degree in Education and a Master's of Arts in Teaching. I have an unofficial degree is soccer. All of those degrees have led me to the high-paying teaching profession! I have a newborn daughter and am married to the most awesome woman on the planet. Seriously. It's a proven fact.

Follow me on Twitter
Follow me on Google