Of Turtles and Teachers

It’s the tail end of Teacher Appreciation Week. I remember those weeks when our daughters were in elementary school. I’d put together a goody bag for their teachers and they’d dutifully tote them to school. One teacher was known for turtles. Pod C, possibly an Eastern Box Turtle, was the classroom mascot.

Later, I became friends with this teacher. My first time at her home stunned me. She had an entire étagère devoted to turtle display – stone, china, crystal, you name it.  Reptiles delivered over the years in goody bags.

Yes, she was a great teacher, and greatly appreciated.

I gained much more appreciation for teachers and teaching these past few months. A first-time adjunct instructor, I taught speechwriting to college students. I’d taught years before – BC, or before children – at a continuing education program. As I recall, it was three-hour evening sessions in a professional public relations certification program. My fear, then, was filling three evening hours.  Now, my fear with a night class would be sustaining my energy, oh, and staying awake.

This time, my biggest fear since these are college students taking the course for credit was being the “real deal” – actually transmitting knowledge and improving their skills so they could write for the ear, not the page. At least, they’d signed up for the class; that must mean they were interested in learning the craft.

Oops. On quizzing students on the first day, I found that most were in the class because they couldn’t get into the one they wanted (yeah, probably a class on writing for social media, thought the old fart standing in front of the room).  But, I did have one student who explained why he was taking the class, “I would like to effectively craft speeches with emotional teeth without being sappy or clichéd.”

Good. I like a challenge.

And, it was a challenge – coming up with a logical way to approach the topic, effective assignments, the best speeches to read and watch, grade papers constructively, and most of all build and sustain interest and energy.

About three weeks in, I realized that teaching is mostly performance.  You have a bunch of young people who’d rather be outside, or sleeping, or anywhere else, and the instructor must capture and hold their attention and interest. Otherwise, why be there – just have an online course. I came to this realization at the photocopying machine and remarked to a much younger colleague, “I just realized that teaching is all about performance.” He replied, “It took me three years to realize that.”

Okay, sometimes wisdom does come with age.

My neighbor, also an adjunct instructor, is a great teaching coach.  I adopted her trick of muttering “Showtime!” to myself on my way to room 102.  It works.

Each session, as I struggled to inject energy, to connect, to recognize, to praise, and to get all 18 involved, I gained even greater respect for educators who can control a classroom, command attention, and impart knowledge.

Could I get the slackers to show up (explaining the attendance policy was a big help), the shy ones to speak up (duh, call on them), and the capable ones to push their boundaries and abilities (ah, many are self starters)?

I learned a lot on the fly. Biggest lesson:  It helps to know what you’re talking about. It’s not like being a flack (public relations practitioner) where you’re always telling a reporter, “I’ll get back to you.” There is getting back – I did that a few times at the next class session –but it helps to answer questions in the moment.

The evaluation forms aren’t in yet. But, the final speeches:  Wow. There’s more to millennials than I realized, or as one student explained in her speech. “Millennials are creative team players who are ambitious in life and in the workplace.”

And, in the classroom. What a privilege to share that time and place with these students. I don’t have any turtles to show for it, but I got some complimentary emails and hugs and invited back next year.

Sweet.