School Climate

As a student, seventh grade was a really scary time for me. Even now, I distinctly remember the churning in my belly every morning when I arrived at school. I was crippled by insecurity when the teacher called my name in class and all eyes turned my way. School felt aggressive and frightening. Students struggled for power and to be seen as “popular.” I began to realize that my anxiety was something that made me different from the other kids.

Last year, our staff adopted the positive discipline approach to replace ineffective no-tolerance policies. Positive discipline is based on the practice of problem-solving instead of punishment. At its core are weekly class meetings, where students work through problems together. At the beginning of the year, teachers “train” students to present problems and offer solutions. Within this process, both teachers and students explore topics such as mutual respect, encouragement and recognizing mistaken goals. One of the biggest challenges is to shift our focus from punishment to solutions.

Middle school teachers struggle to find ways to respond to bullying, teasing, name-calling and exclusionary practices among students. We tread lightly sometimes, afraid of saying the wrong thing to the wrong person at the wrong time thus making conditions worse for a bullied student. Being heavy-handed almost never works. Students also know how to say the right thing to adults and then act in a completely contrary way towards peers.

Junior was not the typical school leader, but he understood that listening to music could inspire his artwork.

After going over the syllabus and room procedures in my art class on the first day of school, the question came as it does each year: “Can we listen to our iPods in this class?”

Jenny started the year desperate to make friends. She was new, immature for her age and starting seventh grade. Because of a learning disability, Jenny was reading and writing at a second-grade level. She tried to hide that from friends. But in the cover-up effort, she often badmouthed her classmates and created drama.

Bill Gates said there would never have been a Microsoft were it not for his teachers, Fred Wright and Ann Stephens. I have to wonder if, at the time, they realized what influence they had. Was the year that they taught Gates one that stood out above the rest, or was it a school year in which they did what they always did—taught to their best ability?

Taylor is the first baseman on our team. He’s quick and alert on the field, a celebrated athlete. He also loves musicals, and often repeats phrases and lyrics from shows. However, he would never share his love of theater with his fellow athletes, for fear of their jokes.

For this reason, he feels like an outsider. He can’t fully share who he is. Taylor is not alone.

A couple of years ago, I had a run-in with a parent. He had developed the habit of coming into school before the end of the day, standing outside the door of our classroom and motioning impatiently for his son, Victor, to hurry up. When I requested that he wait outside the building for his son to be dismissed, he became irate, yelled at me and angrily pulled his son out of class.

At my school, we often call a student’s misbehavior a “poor choice.” A staff member suggested that the phrase unintentionally promotes a bias against the poor. I appreciated that insight. Wouldn’t it be much more accurate—and equally effective—to say, “That choice was disrespectful,” or “The choice you made disrupted our learning?”

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.