When they begin to work on their artistic creation, I get a chance to do something important but rare on the first day of school. I get to walk around and informally interact with my students. I help them brainstorm ideas for what to create if they are stuck (again lowering stress levels), and I get a chance to begin to learn about my students by asking them questions about their creations. This information can later be used to help to create hooks for my material that are highly effective because they incorporate subjects in which they are already involved and engaged.
When the time is up, I make my way quickly up and down the rows talking to each student and having them introduce themselves. As I ask questions about what they created, I keep it quick, lighthearted, and filled with humorous banter. I “rescue” any student who is struggling to find something to say so that everyone leaves class feeling like they have been successful.
Throughout the class period I make a major point of going back over the names multiple times. In fact, I offer a prize to any student who can tell me the name of every student in class at the end of the activity. I will allow them to do this at any point during my first week of school. I believe it is critical for students to at least know each other’s names if we are trying to build an environment with a high level of rapport.
At the end of the class period, I thank the students for coming and then say something along the lines of, “You don’t want to miss tomorrow. Something wild and crazy is going to happen at the beginning of class. You can either be here and see it, or just have to hear stories about it when you come back.” You better believe that makes them curious enough to want to come to class the next day.
I want to pause and make a comment here about building rapport—with the students, and among the students. Several years ago, I learned the hard way that many students do not even know who is sitting in class with them. I asked three students to help me pass back papers during the last few minutes of a class period. When the bell rang they each brought me back a stack of papers. I was horrified to discover they did not return the papers, not because they ran out of time, but because they did not know who the people were. Now understand, this was about halfway through the school year. Here I was, traveling around the country speaking to audiences about subjects such as building rapport, and I had students who didn’t even know the name of the kid sitting behind them. Since that moment, I have it made it a point to emphasize names as part of what I do during the first three days. Making it into a contest helps get some buy-in.
DAY TWO
Day two begins with my opening ritual that was a part of their “Good Morning Training” from the first day. I then turn off the lights, return to the front of the room, and transform myself into an airplane. I fly full-speed around the room twice with my arms outstretched and jet motor fully audible. As I am returning to the front to finish the second lap, I apparently trip, fling myself onto the floor, and roll a couple of times. As I straighten up to my knees, I act as if I am taking in breaths and dog-paddling in water. I alternate between putting my head down under the water with gurgling noises and then catching some breaths at the surface. I motion wildly and shout that I see a life raft…and then I “swim” on the floor towards it. I pull the cord, make the noise of it inflating, and then climb in. I start pulling imaginary people into the raft, struggling with each of them until I count and have ten survivors.
I then (careful with this one!) pass out for an awkwardly long period of time. Trust me on this, on the second day of school with a teacher passed out on the floor after crashing in a plane and swimming on the carpet, an awkwardly long period of time is very short! I come to, pretend to see land, and then hand paddle to it. I pull the raft up onto the beach and discover a deserted island.
After some by-play, I make helicopter sounds, wave it down, and then simulate the wind of its landing. I become the copter pilot stepping out and tell the survivors that I have never seen this island on any map, I was blown off course and am unsure that I will be able to locate it again. My copter can only accommodate five passengers, so five will come back to safety and five will have to survive on the island. It is up to the class to decide who will be saved and who will be left behind. They are to form collaborative groups of three or four students each and come to a consensus.
I provide them with a list of the ten characters who have survived the crash. Each of these characters is designed to cause a debate as to whether they should stay or go. For example, one is a botanist who is also the single mom of two young children. Some will want to keep her on the island for her knowledge of plants and others will want to return her to her children. Another example is a convicted murderer who is on parole. Some students won’t want to give him one of the five seats home. Other students may not want to leave four people on the island with him. The whole idea is to create characters that will spark a debate and differences in opinion.
This exercise accomplishes two main goals. First, they are once again socked in the stomach with an outrageous and outside-the-box intro to the period that is not only bizarre, but highly entertaining. Secondly, I get the chance to discuss group dynamics, the collaborative process, and the procedures we use to get into groups, all in the context of a fun, engaging activity that does not have any particular right or wrong answers. The answer to who is rescued and who stays on the island doesn’t matter; it is the process that is important. I emphasize that they must not only come to a consensus, but they must be able to justify their answers.
As the groups collaborate, I circulate through the room and monitor the process. I reinforce proper dynamics, the no-meanness rule, and encourage full participation. Once finished, each group reports their answers and responds to any questions I might have about their choices. It is always interesting to see how different the answers can be and how the justifications vary from group to group and from period to period. I track the responses on a chart on the board.
After two days, every student has introduced themselves to the whole class and has participated in a collaborative group. In addition, they have yet to see anything resembling an ordinary class experience. They leave wondering what in the world is going to happen next. I’ll tell you what is going to happen next, just the single most important day of the school year…Day Three!
DAY THREE
If I were to rank all of my one hundred eighty class days in order of importance, I would probably rank day three as the single most critical of the year. This is the day I explain the method to my madness and break down all possibilities of students falling into a self-fulfilling prophecy of failure. I teach many students who have struggled in school and failed many times before they arrive at my door. I know many of them are asking an unspoken question that is absolutely critical for me to be able to answer. I visualize them sitting in front of me and asking this silent question: “Why will I be successful in your class if I’ve never been successful before?” Until, and unless, I can answer that question, I don’t believe I can effectively start my year.
Day three consists of a massive, high-energy, frenetic sales pitch designed to convince my students that my class is completely different from anything they have ever experienced in school. Most importantly, I work to sell them on the fact that they can, and absolutely will, be successful. Far too many of our students have been beaten up by school. They have been told they don’t measure up. They have been made to believe their unique gifts and talents are not valued by the educational system because they are not reflected in test scores. They don’t believe that school respects and honors their individuality but instead uses it against them as a tool to force conformity.
Every student in your class in those first few days of the semester is evaluating whether or not your room is an emotionally and psychologically safe environment. They’re wondering if it is worth their time and effort to give school a real shot. After all, it’s easier to not give your best and then blame failure on a lack of effort,