What She Wore: Navy blue long-sleeve tee; beaded khaki slides; khaki courderoys that could possibly be described as knickers–they look like capris, but they come in a little under my knee.
Every teacher has that moment when looking at their rolls before school starts: they named their child what? But we giggle for a moment, and then get on with business.
There’s this teacher at school who can’t remember the kid’s names. We’ve been at school six weeks and she still can’t remember them. She has a LOT of trouble with this. She doesn’t really seem to mind, either. The other day I heard her barking at one of the kids using his last name. Not, "Mr. Johnson", but just "Johnson."
I have a real problem with this.
She will tell you that she’s "personable," but that she isn’t good with names. I think this is a cop-out. This teacher has been accused by more than one of her students of being a racist–I would say with certainty that she isn’t. I think the kids are picking up on her lack of interest in them as individuals. They don’t know how to put a name to it, so they call it racism.
The reality is this: teaching is rarely about the subject. We’ve all had an experience with that person who knows EVERYTHING about their subject, but somehow fail to get it across. You can be an expert in the field, but that’s not what teaching is really about, is it? Most of us can subtract multi-digit numbers, but have ever tried to teach someone else how to do it? You can’t communicate with another person unless you know who they are. I pride myself on trying to know all my kid’s names by the first week. Once I’ve got my fifty down, I start working on the other fifty that make up my team. Knowing the kids names is only the beginning–you have to know where they came from, and what makes them tick.
It’s like I think I’m Dale Carnegie or something.