I very much appreciate a recent post by Ella Meisner at Edutopia. Meisner is a classroom science teacher in Austin, TX, and she reports on a gathering of former students. They didn't turn out to all be budding scientists, but...
But during our catch-up conversations, I heard a surprising sentiment: Top of mind for many former students was how a class made them feel, as opposed to the content they learned or even the grades they earned.
She cites a book by Jennifer Wallace--Mattering: The Secret to a Life of Deep Connection and Purpose-- and its mention of four pillars for a sense of mattering, and talks about implementing those pillars in her classroom.
This is not simply some warm fuzzy soft skill idea-- for students it's a quick step from "I don't matter" to "It doesn't matter whether I try to learn anything in this class or not." MY former students would laugh at the idea that I was some warm, fuzzy teacher; my class was focused on getting them to Know Things and being able to Do Stuff. That kind of attention is, I'm certain, part of how you convey to students that they matter-- by underlining that it matters if they succeed.
Meisner breaks down the four pillars.
Significant: Helping Every Student Feel Seen
Meisner has her own way of delivering Attaboys to her students, including weekly awards. I'm not an awards fan, but I agree that being seen is enormously powerful for students. Why do some students seem to actively seek out negative attention? Because it may be negative, but at least it's attention. They get to be seen.
Not to belabor the obvious, but the first step in making your students feel seen is to, you know, see them. See them as human beings and not problems or obstacles or just one example of a particular type. In English class, it was easy to give assignments that allowed them to show some of themselves. Being seen doesn't need to be a matter of something formal or carefully planned; it can happen in plenty of small moments that can flow naturally if you see them and talk to them like they are human beings.
This, incidentally, is why it's best to call them by their chosen name. To refuse to do so is to explicitly refuse to see them. Anti-trans laws are bad education policy because they state very clearly "We refuse to see you.
Appreciated: Valuing Students for Who They Are
Meisner says the idea here is to value students for more than just their performance on class-related tasks. In my small town district, this meant things like going to see the students play a sport or appear in a play. It was one of the benefits of being an extra-curricular advisor-- getting to see students function in other settings, and I was always surprised/disappointed at the number of teachers who never attended other stuff.
Seeing students in other contexts in which they may be far more confident and capable than in your classroom can be transformative. Once a year, I took a yearbook photographer and staff member to our version of a CTE campus where I got to see students who struggled in my classroom really shine operating heavy equipment, building a house, or providing home health care.
Depended on: Helping Students Feel Needed
As Meisner points out, this can be one of the values of group work (and, again, extracurriculars). I feel like elementary teachers have an edge here; my sons feel like a crucial part of their classroom when it's their turn to take a classroom "job" like door minder or lunch counter (insert nostalgic stories from the days of cleaning chalkboard erasers).
Invested In: Showing Students You Care About Their Well-Being
Meisner includes end-of-year notes here. One of my sons' teachers just sent home a thank you note for an end-of-year gift they gave her (and picked out themselves), and while I wouldn't say it will change the course of their lives, it made an impression on them (more so because it comes at the end of a year in which each of these pillars has been a factor).
Of the four, this is the one that veers closest to an important line-- the one between "showing interest in student's life" and "mind your own damn business." Not every student wants-- or needs--you to invest in them, and sometimes a great sign of respect for them as a human being is to allow them to set their own boundaries and respect them. You can offer to hear if something's up, but if they don't want to talk about it, back off. Showing you care doesn't mean being intrusive.
Meisner cites the old “They don’t care how much you know until they know how much you care," and honestly, that saying always makes me cringe. Not just because it requires some sort of overt display of caring, but because--well, I don't need them to care how much I know. I just need them to grasp that the world will be a better place if they leave my class with more understanding and skills than when they entered it. I don't need them to be impressed with me; I would like them to be impressed with themselves.
Still, for teachers in the field, this framework is not a bad one for a little summer reflection on how you interact with students.



