When Students Teach Us
I’m still humbled by what I can learn from them.
Late last week the kind of thing happened in my first block class that reinforced my decision to push retirement off a few more years.
My class of high school juniors were exploring ChatGPT. I hadn’t taught this lesson before, so I was kind of making it up as we went along. The kids seemed engaged, and they were pointing at their screens, turning to each other to talk about the lesson, smiling and laughing.
All of these signs showed me they were learning, or at least I felt like they were.
Then I noticed something strange, something unexpected, something especially rare in the few years we have been back full-time since our Covid building closures.
A girl from the back row, a quiet student, one whom I had always assumed to be shy, stood up and walked to the front row to sit beside another student, Jake.
Jake is one of those kids who struggles to stay awake and engaged. He often comes to class without his backpack, and he doesn’t turn in work very often.
But he was trying to figure out the assignment. He was getting a little frustrated, and I have to admit that even though I had noticed his frustration, I hadn’t stopped by his desk yet to help.
