High Standards

This week was a lesson in high standards... for myself and for my students.

Typically as I go from week to week teaching, I leave my small room a complete mess. My bed is lofted, and I rarely want to take the time clambering over the top to cover the bed and make it nicely. The morning rush of trying on different outfits, disliking the way they look and switching just minutes before walking out the door leads to heaps of dress clothes on my chair that I use to get down from my lofted bed. Sixth grade papers and assignments litter my desk as I try to keep them straight as I keep track of math, reading, and three classes of social studies,. A stack of books: math, social studies, supplementary texts, Maniac Magee, and The Boy in the Striped Pajamas, my bible, notebook, and journal lay in between picture frames of the people I love and haven't seen in what feels like forever. Every night it's a race to get my needed seven hours of sleep... pushing through another day.

Weekends are supposed to be productive. They never are, because I am simply too tired from the week. The mess in my little hole of a room overwhelms me and makes me avoid going in there at all costs. My mind feels as cluttered as my room, and my bed is always calling me to come and rest. I usually spend the weekend cleaning my mess... and within a day it's all back, just like I left it.

This week I realized that I had developed the unhealthy habit of mess. The mess controls me, keeps me from accomplishing what I need to, and leaves me feeling tired and gross. So I set a goal for myself: I would make my bed every day this week, and all clothes had to be put away by the end of every day before I went to bed. I realized that if I took the extra two minutes every day, it would save an hour of cleaning on the weekend. This might sound like a stupid goal, not much of a "high standard" but it has made all the difference this week.

Instead of avoiding my room, I was able to come "home" and relax, prepare for the next day, get to bed on time, and feel rested in the morning. I felt productive and clean. And. I made my goal.

This expectation for myself spilled over into high expectations for my students.

I did not let them give me excuses. I did not let them tell me that they didn't "get it" or that it was too hard to learn. When I showed them I trusted them, believed they could accomplish what I asked of them, it was astonishing to see what they could accomplish:

Sixth grade "low math" students derived pi by measuring household objects like bowls, toilet paper, and oreos. They also derived the equation for circumference and areas of circles...

Sixth grade readers wrote me about the theme of Maniac Magee and gave me specific evidence from the text to back it up. Thesis statements and everything... stuff some of my college students struggle with. And my sixth graders did it!

Sixth grade social studies students wrestled with the concept of child labor in other parts of the world... how can it be allowed? How is it fair that these children are being treated? They analyzed the immense gaps between the wealthy and the poor and the injustice in the world... all on their own.

Yes, they are just sixth graders. But when given high standards, they will achieve beyond what is expected. Those high standards must start with myself before spilling over into my classroom. But once those are in place, students will rise to the occasion and achieve far more than I ever could have expected of them. I am reveling in the results of high expectations.