School’s out here in high desert Utah. The day after the last day of school, I traveled to California to attend my mother’s funeral. She passed after a long illness and decline, so everyone had made peace with her passing. She had requested that her ashes be scattered at sea, so we all got on a boat and went out onto the water. Just opposite the beautiful Crystal Cove Park near Laguna Beach, we sang, prayed, and scattered her ashes.
My siblings and their children, me and my children, and some of their children, all of us were on the boat. For a brief time, we were a community together, the common bond being my mother. Otherwise, we were a very disparate group. Some wore sneakers while other wore heels. Some sang while others sobbed. Little children, even babies, travelled on board with their parents.
I caught a glimpse that day of how communities form. Just like my extended family on that funeral boat, we and our students form temporary communities within a larger school community. With elementary classrooms, the culture of the community can become very strong and tangible, because elementary kids stay in one room most of the day–in most of the country, anyway. But even secondary classrooms, where students weave in and out of the various rooms, can become communities.
It’s true that many classroom communities are tense because students bring in attitudes and behaviors that can set a tone of tension and hyper-vigilance. However, over time, during the school year, a teacher who realizes that s/he’s in charge of the community can set whatever tone s/he wants.
My art classroom seems like a very casual, free sort of place–that is, until, someone is rude, unkind, abusive, or inappropriate. Then it may feel like the most punishing prison–to the person who’s been inappropriate–until s/he apologizes, makes amends, and begins again. (I call it “Triple A”–Acknowledge, Apologize, Make Amends. After this process, we start over new, and the problem no longer exists.)
I like to think that everyone entering my classroom community feels empowered and joyful enough to try new things and move toward excellence. It doesn’t take long for most students to understand that when they follow the simple rules of my art classroom community, they are basically free.
Once in a while, a student comes along who refuses to play by the rules. In my community, that student is unhappy because s/he never gets past me. I always try, and almost always succeed, to check inappropriate behavior. I noticed, a few years ago, that by January, my classroom becomes a very peaceful, productive community. I figured out why: the really problematic students, those who absolutely refuse to follow the rules, have transferred out of my classes to other classes. I have no doubt that these students blame me and hate me eternally, but they realize that they can’t get around the rules and they opt out of my community.
However, most of the students realize that no one will hurt them, no one will put them down, no one will destroy their work, no one will demean their efforts, and that they can try and try once more till they succeed. They see that when everyone is following the rules, they can take the time they need to complete a piece of work, and they understand that if everyone works well, they can request songs to be played during artwork. What a great deal!
When my classroom community is flowing well, I just love to be there. I even forget, sometimes, that I am the one that sets this great tone. However, it is all about us as teachers. We decide what our classroom cultures are going to be, and then if we are consistent and firm, students find safe haven in our classroom communities. They can be held to high standards of work, and they honor their own work and each others’.
