Relationships, Relationships, Relationships. Why or Why Not?
I woke up early this morning to work on my blog assignment, and came across a clickbait headline (which, of course, required a subscription to read, hence I didn't read the whole article) outlining how twenty St. Louis Area schools were in the bottom 2% of the worst performing schools in Missouri.
Most were in St. Louis City, several were in Riverview Gardens, and two were in Hazelwood. The latter two are districts where I formerly worked. None of these schools were buildings I had worked in, but I knew the culture. Poverty was a key component. A greater indicator, I believe, was the fact that the districts might have some outstanding educators but the missing ingredients were administrators who foster relationships with staff and with children.
My middle school has two days left in its existence as a middle school. Ferguson-Florissant is restructuring and turning Berkeley Middle into Berkeley Elementary, a 3-5 building that will be home to nearly 600 students. My head principal will be remaining as an assistant principal; some would call it a "demotion" but he is embracing it with grace and love and the knowledge that the relationships he has built with families in Berkeley will continue to be an asset with the younger siblings of children he has worked with the last several years.
I will continue to be an asset there as well, at least in a half-time capacity split with another 3-5 building. I worked nearly ten years as an elementary librarian even though my true love and comfort is middle and high school settings. Would I jump at the chance to be a librarian in secondary again? Absolutely! For now, though, this is where I will be and I remind myself that whatever the setting my impact on kids is not how many readers I foster, books I check out, or how my innovation mindset can reach kids - it's about relationships.
BMS is not a "high performing school" and to say otherwise is to fool oneself. We have some high performing kids, and our test scores have shown marked growth in the last several years.
We found out in October that this would be the final year, but from my building principal down, the mindset was to continue to teach, love, and grow relationships with kids. Ideas such as mindfulness training were in the pipeline, but we educators still carried on with the mindset that our kids need to know there are teachers who first and foremost want those relationships with students before we can ever see dramatic growth as learners and people.
A situation last week embodied the idea of relationships.
Zoe is an empath. Her mother describes her as always standing against injustice even though it gets her in trouble. When I hear kids exclaim "Y'all DO to much!" I know our love is working. Zoe spent part of the year at the alternative program, which was a blessing in getting her away from much of the "girl drama" and allowing her to mature.
One of my "ministries" at school - those undertakings that are not part of my job description but I undertook out of love - is maintaining the inner courtyard. My "Garden Guys," the cadre of seventh grade boys - the Nerd Herd - have joined me in clearing brush, planting flowers, and even mowing the grass. This spring, we have enjoyed taking lunch outside away from the noise of the cafeteria. I will miss those boys but take comfort in the relationships we have made. They tell me how they walk the hallway and look out on spring bulbs blooming and say "I was part of that."
We were coming in from lunch, and a mass of seventh graders were going from lunch to their next class and eighth graders were heading to the gym for their elective period. I stood at the courtyard door and saw Zoe.
"Jaylen, don't do it," she pleaded. "It's not worth it."
Two boys were exchanging words and about to fight, and Zoe was making an effort to get the crowd into the main hallway where more staff were concentrated. The crowd shifted, and I calmly weaved my way through the mass of adolescent humanity. Reaching the main hallway, other staff swarmed in as Zoe held back Jaylen and some eighth graders restrained the other boy.
They were poised to fight but my peacemaker had done her job.
The halls dissipated and I remained. Zoe was there with some other seventh grade girls, sobbing and hyperventilating. I walked up, she fell into my embrace, and was sobbing.
"Zoe Ann, I have never been prouder of you than I am right now. Blessed are the peacemakers, for you are one of them."
I later returned to the library and called her mother. I had to tell her that.
That is the power of relationship. Zoe is not my most avid reader, and I have had to work with her on how to be cool in the library. She knows that when I call her by her first and middle names she is not just a name on a computer screen. I have claimed her. She is loved.
She returned from a two month alternative placement in March, and while she had a few stints in ISS, she was not suspended out of school, her grades improved, and her outlook has improved dramatically. When she went to alternative school, I told my principal I was praying for her.
"She's a tough kid with some real issues to overcome, but we're here for her," I said.
I tell kids that navigating school requires one seek out one teacher whom you can trust and let them guide you. Zoe is lucky. She had MANY teachers - and two administrators - who see her for who she is.
We can't save them all, but we can save some. None will be saved if relationship building is not the cornerstone.
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