Why Kids Love (and Hate) School

Reflections on Practice

Steven P. Jones, Eric C. Sheffield, Steven P. Jones & Eric C. Sheffield, Steven P. Jones, Eric C. Sheffield

• Publisher: Myers Education Press
• Year: 2018
• Print ISBN: 9781975500993, 9781975500986
• eBook ISBN: 9781975501013
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Education
• Subtopic: Education Theory & Practice

Some students enter classrooms with an "I dare you try to teach me" look on their faces, and others bounce into class excited to learn and anxious to please the teacher. We know we can't automatically blame teachers or schools when students don't want to learn. But we also know that sometimes teachers and schools don't always set students up for success, and they don't always help them love what they're learning.

Why Kids Love (and Hate) School: Reflections on Practice investigates some of the school and classroom practices that help students love school—and some that send students in the opposite direction. Intended for classroom teachers, teacher education students, and school administrators, chapters in the book investigate a variety of topics: how schools can build effective school cultures, the "struggle" students encounter in learning, practices of other countries that help students love school, testing practices that cause students to hate school—and much more.  

Perfect for courses in: Introduction to Education, General Methods, Management/Assessment, Educational Research, Educational Administration/Leadership, Teacher Leadership, Curriculum Theory, Curriculum Development.

CHAPTER ONE

HOW YOU TEACH IS WHAT YOU TEACH

ELIZABETH HOBBS

KIDS WANT TO LOVE school. They do. Certainly, for many students school is the center of their educational and social existence. But a student’s love/hate relationship with school is complicated. Loving school isn’t always the “cool” thing to do. And the reality of this love/hate relationship is that it is significantly impacted by a teacher’s own love for learning and school. When describing the spark that ignites their love of school and learning, students will often refer to how energized a teacher becomes when speaking about a favorite book or author, or how passionately a teacher works out a challenging math equation on the board, or how actively a teacher participates in a local social justice rally. Teachers have an incredible power to influence this love and effect positive change in the world. It’s exciting. It’s terrifying. It’s inspiring. It’s critical.

The Reality of This Love/Hate Relationship

Even if they are hesitant to admit it, kids often do love school. School is where kids see their friends each day. School is where kids escape their parents each day. School is where kids develop an understanding of themselves while bobbing and swimming in a sea of other selves. School is where struggles and successes all beautifully boil up around them. School awakens new and exciting passions in kids. School even acts as a safe place for many—it guarantees heat every winter and breakfast every morning.

And yet kids so often complain they hate school. This can be paradoxically true. The fact of the matter is that school harbors all that is equally scary. School is where students face bullies and challenges and uncertainty and failure and broken hearts and missed deadlines and seemingly unfair rules, regulations, and expectations. Who wouldn’t be overwhelmed when faced with such daunting issues while trying to make sense of an increasingly confusing adult world? Couple this scary world of school with the pressure to maintain an online social world in which students compare their own personal blooper reels to other students’ personal highlight reels, and you have a very uncertain set of hurdles that students face each day. The guidance of supportive, energetic, and passionate teachers is a critical component of school, often for reasons completely separate from the curricular content they teach (Banner & Cannon, 1997; Greene, 1995; Noddings, 2003; Wong & Wong, 1991).

The Role of the Teacher in Supporting This Relationship

Somewhere students’ experience and opinion of school change. They morph. By and large, however, they do not go so far as to be entirely irretrievable. One of the most important aspects of school is that it is where kids learn to navigate our complex and, at times, unsettling world; and, generally speaking, kids are eager to do so with the help of supportive teachers. As youngsters, kids often want to be “bigger” (read: older). With this “big-ness,” kids have more opportunities, later curfews, and sometimes fewer restrictions placed on them. In school, kids witness firsthand the experiences of those who are just a bit older than they are, and they long to attain that status. They watch and imitate the bigger kids, and they aspire to be like those bigger kids. However this aspiration does not come without growing pains. In this, kids look to their teachers to lead them through these transitions. How we adults handle stress, new challenges, interactions with others, conflict, exciting news, and so on becomes the model for what it means to be “bigger,” or older, for our students.

Kids watch us. They watch us closely. In fact, they watch us so closely that it can be a little unnerving. Years ago, as I was teaching a group of sophomores, I noticed they were staring at me rather quizzically. Thinking I must have spinach in my teeth or something equally embarrassing, I finally stopped to ask them about this. One student eventually said, “You’re wearing a necklace. You’re generally a bracelet person.” Seriously? If our students have the ability to focus so intently on such trivial details, then surely the challenge teachers must embrace is to help them channel this intense focus toward inquiry, exploration, learning, problem solving, and creation.

How You Teach Is What You Teach

Teaching is an exciting job. Teachers give voice to the voiceless. Teachers stand up for those who cannot stand up for themselves. It is my honor and privilege to work every day to help kids discover and become the people they are to be in life.

Again, kids want to like school. I see this every year when I engage my own students in conversations about the learning process. Generally speaking, they fondly remember a time in their young lives when they found school and schoolwork enjoyable. Year after year, my students tell me this shift from loving school to hating school occurs when the work becomes more challenging, less about personal choice, and tied to high-stakes grades.

This brings our murky love/hate conundrum into clearer resolution. Indeed, the formidable task before teachers is thus to model and nurture the love of learning for learning’s sake. They must harness it, foster it, and help students struggle with it. When teachers see their role as a call to embody this approach to learning and interaction with the world, it can be very powerful.

We often hear of the myriad roles teachers play for students throughout their day. And, to an extent, this is true. Teachers do wear a number of hats during their time with students. From content specialist to life coach, supportive role model to advocate, mentor to disciplinarian, a teacher helps students navigate challenging situations—sometimes even failure. In short, teachers help students navigate their lives.

I tend to cringe at the use of extended war metaphors to describe teaching and education—and yet I often hear them used. From teachers being on the front lines, in the trenches, with boots on the ground, to working triage in their classrooms, the inherent message embedded within these metaphors is that education is a battle, a war. If we follow this line of thought through to its inevitable end, that also means that there must be winners and losers within this educational construct. I reject this notion wholeheartedly. I find it dangerous and divisive.

Education is not a war to win. Education is a journey to embrace.

It is undeniable that teachers have a tremendous responsibility each day to help kids discover and become the people they are to be in life. In addition to expressing sincere enthusiasm for individual content areas, teachers must harness their power to encourage classrooms based in social justice, nurture classrooms that comprise supportive learning communities, and inspire classrooms that foster students’ love and pursuit of learning not for the grade but for the experience of it. When teachers are passionate about their work, many students will, in turn, be more passionate about their own work.

Making the Case for the Impassioned Teacher

Who doesn’t remember watching movies like Dead Poets Society, Mona Lisa Smile, Dangerous Minds, or Freedom Writers and dreaming ever so idealistically that our classroom and impact on students would match that of the Hollywood vision? Many of the preservice teachers with whom I have worked over the years have spoken about their desire to be that type of teacher to kids. To have those moments in the classroom. To make that kind of difference. Certainly, some of my more seasoned colleagues may offer a polite, though perhaps subtly condescending, smile at the rookie teacher who hopes for such idealistic interactions with students. But I love hearing this from preservice teachers. It is precisely this type of excitement and passion that our classrooms and students need. Moreover, it is entirely necessary that teachers begin their careers with these goals—goals like this keep teachers coming back to the classroom day after day, year after year, despite the endless paperwork, meetings, new initiatives, standardized tests, bureaucratic minutiae, and countless other unglamorous elements of teaching—not to mention the constant demonization of the profession in politics and the media.

The reality is this: feelings and emotions are contagious. As teachers, we have incredible power to influence the dynamic and environment of our classrooms. The energy and passion teachers bring to their work each day can make or break a lesson, an activity, or even a child. This can be quite a daunting reality for teachers. Many of the unique responsibilities that come with the job can understandably cause teachers to feel overwhelmed. These responsibilities include listening and responding authentically to student needs; modeling social justice in our interactions with students, colleagues, parents, and other stakeholders; expressing passion and enthusiasm for our content areas; working to maintain happiness in the classroom; fighting political maneuvers to hyperstandardize the school experience, and, instead, to preserve a teacher’s status as artist in the classroom.

Banner and Cannon (1997), Eisner (1991), and Greene (1995) argue that it is necessary to view teachers as artists so as to maintain the integrity of the teaching craft. More and more we are seeing efforts to standardize education within the United States, and, unfortunately, this “teacher as artist” distinction can get lost in the science of standardization. These researchers ultimately maintain that teaching is just as much an art as it is a science, and in the blending of the two is where education must live. Greene (1967) argues that this artistic quality in a teacher is paramount to the effectiveness of instruction. When teachers channel their inner artist, their passion for their work will inevitably emerge. Tricarico (2015) asserts that when teaching comes from passion and the heart, it “increase[s] the likelihood [to] experience flow and be ‘in the zone’” (p. 12). Teachers who find themselves “in the zone” while channeling their inner artist are also more likely to have happier classrooms. Noddings (2003) maintains that happiness in a classroom is a crucial component of overall learning—it can even lead students to find learning fun. She believes students are willing to do more for teachers who regularly exhibit this care within their classrooms and stresses that “worthwhile fun in the classroom is dependent on the teachers’ knowledge and artistry” (p. 244).

Many people struggle with this idea of “fun” in the classroom—especially in a world where it seems that the only thing kids want from the adults in their lives is to be entertained. Of course, it is important for teachers to find a balance with which they are comfortable, as we are not hired to be entertainers. However, there is most definitely an aspect of theatric artistry in an active classroom. When teachers love their content and their jobs, it is possible to make lessons and learning come to life. Obviously, there are days when this is just not possible. Yes, there are teachers in the world who are quite dispassionate about their work. Maybe, in fact, on certain days we all embody this dispassion or at least hear whispers of it from deep within, especially when the overwhelming nature of teaching takes hold. I could list a number of times and ways that it would seem impossible to muster such enthusiasm and happiness—but certainly, there is something to the phrase “fake it ’til you make it.” Tricarico (2015) reinforces this notion by noting that students are deeply changed by the experiences they have with their teachers. Teachers create these experiences every day.

Noddings (2003) submits that happiness should absolutely be an aim of education, and when teachers are able to make this happen, they are concerned with “both the quality of present experience and the likely contribution of that experience to future happiness” (p. 251). By extension, she asserts that if students are to be happy, their teachers should also be happy. This classroom environment will encourage kids to “seize their educational opportunities with delight, and they will contribute to the happiness of others” (p. 261). As the path of the educational journey influences our tomorrow, the path is ultimately very important. As such, it “helps to love the path” (Tricarico, 2015, p. 3).

Not Just an English Thing

I teach English. Have I mentioned that yet? I do. Perhaps the reason I haven’t mentioned this rather important element of my job yet is that I see it as only a part of what I do each day. Do I want kids to be able to read and write effectively? Sure. Do I want kids to craft cogent arguments and support each argument with well-documented, credible evidence? Of course. Do I want kids to feel confident speaking in front of an audience, or engaging in academic discourse, or working collaboratively with their peers on large tasks? Without question.

However, there are certain non-negotiables that must be established in my classroom before any of those English things can happen. First and foremost, students need to feel safe in the environment I’ve created for them. They must feel that I appreciate their presence, contributions, personalities, and imperfections. Sometimes students enter my classroom with negative attitudes toward English—attitudes that have generally been shaped by previous school experiences. In these situations, we first have to work through the muck of these attitudes and experiences before we can move forward with our own learning.

For instance, by the time kids get to high school they will often claim they “hate” to read. However, they did not always hate to read. I know this to be true. There was a time when every single kid in my classroom liked reading. I see this every year when I engage my sophomores in a discussion about when they loved to read. During this conversation, they excitedly list picture books, various magazines, Choose Your Own Adventure books, even Walter the Farting Dog as reading they remember fondly. The challenge for me is to find ways to tap into this former passion and potentially rekindle some of it during the year.

Learning and schooling are not easy. There are times when I want my students to struggle with their thoughts and the overall experience of learning and creating. The reality is that a teacher’s attitude and approach to tough material set the tone for students to approach their work in a similar manner. If I embrace the struggle with interest and a positive attitude, my students are much more likely to follow my lead. Even if the material is hard. Even if it is quite laborious and time consuming. My attitude in the classroom makes a difference. As a teacher, I hold tremendous power over the daily experiences of my students. I take this very seriously.

We Learn What We See

In my lifetime as a student, I have been incredibly lucky to have encountered passionate teachers at every turn. Some still stand out in my mind—and likely always will. They fully embraced and embodied this “How you teach is What you teach” philosophy in their classrooms. Certain people instantly come back to me as those whose passionate teaching styles mirrored their interest in their subject area. This was important.

To be quite honest, I didn’t really need my English teachers to “sell” English to me—I already loved it. Their passion for characters, authors, writing, argument, and everything else that came with that class just enhanced my overall experience. But in subject areas where I was not as confident as a student, or even felt downright bored with the material, my teachers’ attitude and passion for their content directly influenced my attitude and passion toward the material.

When I think of impassioned teaching, three teachers come to mind who significantly impacted me as a student: my American Literature teacher, my Algebra I teacher, and my Chemistry teacher. I remember these people not necessarily for individual content lessons, but for loving their content area—loving it so much that I thought to myself, “I guess this can’t be too bad. I’ll give it a shot.” They delivered lessons with energy and sincere enthusiasm, and always expressed genuine concern for me and my educational experience.

My American Literature teacher was one of the most positive, reassuring people I encountered throughout my time in high school. Her enthusiasm for literature was palpable. When I spoke to her, it was clear that I had her complete attention, and she listened sincerely to each of us when we made contributions to discussions in her class. Her comments on my essays were encouraging while still challenging, and she would flit happily around the classroom speaking so sincerely of her love for each author we studied that I was convinced each writer was one of her personal best friends and confidants.

My Algebra I teacher would stand at the chalkboard, and, while demonstrating to the class how to work out a math problem,...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title
• Copyright
• Contents
• Introduction
• Chapter 1. How You Teach Is What You Teach
• Chapter 2. Invitational Learning: Building School Culture with Love
• Chapter 3. Beyond Curriculum: Students Don’t Love School When Schools Don’t Love Them Back
• Chapter 4. “What Do You Think We Could Change to Make This Lesson Better?” Using Feedback Surveys to Engage Students and Improve Instruction
• Chapter 5. From the Desk of Your Student: Ruminations on School
• Chapter 6. Must We Always Stay on the Struggle Bus?
• Chapter 7. Icelandic Education at Hateigsskoli: Giving Students Wings
• Chapter 8. A Manual on How to Make Children Hate School: The Case of Test-Driven Chinese Education
• Chapter 9. Igniting Passion among Students (and Teachers) for Civic Engagement: The Role of Communities of Practice
• Chapter 10. Connecting Students and Communities: Locally Relevant Texts
• Chapter 11. “A Toolbox for Working…” The Disappearance of Developmentally Appropriate Practices
• Chapter 12. From the Pickup Line to the Picket Line: Opt Out’s Love-Hate Relationship with Public Schools
• Contributors